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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Serge Panine, Complete, by Georges Ohnet
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Serge Panine, Complete
+
+Author: Georges Ohnet
+
+Release Date: October 4, 2006 [EBook #3918]
+[Last updated: August 23, 2016]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SERGE PANINE, COMPLETE ***
+
+
+
+Produced by David Widger
+
+
+
+
+SERGE PANINE
+
+By GEORGES OHNET
+
+With a General Introduction to the Series by GASTON BOISSIER, Secretaire
+Perpetuel de l’academie Francaise.
+
+
+
+
+GENERAL INTRODUCTION
+
+1905
+
+BY ROBERT ARNOT
+
+The editor-in-chief of the Maison Mazarin--a man of letters who
+cherishes an enthusiastic yet discriminating love for the literary and
+artistic glories of France--formed within the last two years the great
+project of collecting and presenting to the vast numbers of intelligent
+readers of whom New World boasts a series of those great and undying
+romances which, since 1784, have received the crown of merit awarded by
+the French Academy--that coveted assurance of immortality in letters and
+in art.
+
+In the presentation of this serious enterprise for the criticism and
+official sanction of The Academy, ‘en seance’, was included a request
+that, if possible, the task of writing a preface to the series should be
+undertaken by me. Official sanction having been bestowed upon the plan,
+I, as the accredited officer of the French Academy, convey to you its
+hearty appreciation, endorsement, and sympathy with a project so nobly
+artistic. It is also my duty, privilege, and pleasure to point out, at
+the request of my brethren, the peculiar importance and lasting value
+of this series to all who would know the inner life of a people whose
+greatness no turns of fortune have been able to diminish.
+
+In the last hundred years France has experienced the most terrible
+vicissitudes, but, vanquished or victorious, triumphant or abased, never
+has she lost her peculiar gift of attracting the curiosity of the world.
+She interests every living being, and even those who do not love her
+desire to know her. To this peculiar attraction which radiates from
+her, artists and men of letters can well bear witness, since it is to
+literature and to the arts, before all, that France owes such living
+and lasting power. In every quarter of the civilized world there are
+distinguished writers, painters, and eminent musicians, but in
+France they exist in greater numbers than elsewhere. Moreover, it
+is universally conceded that French writers and artists have this
+particular and praiseworthy quality: they are most accessible to people
+of other countries. Without losing their national characteristics, they
+possess the happy gift of universality. To speak of letters alone:
+the books that Frenchmen write are read, translated, dramatized, and
+imitated everywhere; so it is not strange that these books give to
+foreigners a desire for a nearer and more intimate acquaintance with
+France.
+
+Men preserve an almost innate habit of resorting to Paris from almost
+every quarter of the globe. For many years American visitors have been
+more numerous than others, although the journey from the United States
+is long and costly. But I am sure that when for the first time they see
+Paris--its palaces, its churches, its museums--and visit Versailles,
+Fontainebleau, and Chantilly, they do not regret the travail they have
+undergone. Meanwhile, however, I ask myself whether such sightseeing
+is all that, in coming hither, they wish to accomplish. Intelligent
+travellers--and, as a rule, it is the intelligent class that feels
+the need of the educative influence of travel--look at our beautiful
+monuments, wander through the streets and squares among the crowds that
+fill them, and, observing them, I ask myself again: Do not such people
+desire to study at closer range these persons who elbow them as they
+pass; do they not wish to enter the houses of which they see but the
+facades; do they not wish to know how Parisians live and speak and act
+by their firesides? But time, alas! is lacking for the formation of
+those intimate friendships which would bring this knowledge within their
+grasp. French homes are rarely open to birds of passage, and visitors
+leave us with regret that they have not been able to see more than the
+surface of our civilization or to recognize by experience the note of
+our inner home life.
+
+How, then, shall this void be filled? Speaking in the first person, the
+simplest means appears to be to study those whose profession it is to
+describe the society of the time, and primarily, therefore, the works of
+dramatic writers, who are supposed to draw a faithful picture of it. So
+we go to the theatre, and usually derive keen pleasure therefrom. But
+is pleasure all that we expect to find? What we should look for
+above everything in a comedy or a drama is a representation, exact as
+possible, of the manners and characters of the dramatis persona of the
+play; and perhaps the conditions under which the play was written do
+not allow such representation. The exact and studied portrayal of
+a character demands from the author long preparation, and cannot be
+accomplished in a few hours. From, the first scene to the last, each
+tale must be posed in the author’s mind exactly as it will be proved to
+be at the end. It is the author’s aim and mission to place completely
+before his audience the souls of the “agonists” laying bare the
+complications of motive, and throwing into relief the delicate shades
+of motive that sway them. Often, too, the play is produced before a
+numerous audience--an audience often distrait, always pressed for time,
+and impatient of the least delay. Again, the public in general require
+that they shall be able to understand without difficulty, and at first
+thought, the characters the author seeks to present, making it necessary
+that these characters be depicted from their most salient sides--which
+are too often vulgar and unattractive.
+
+In our comedies and dramas it is not the individual that is drawn, but
+the type. Where the individual alone is real, the type is a myth of the
+imagination--a pure invention. And invention is the mainspring of the
+theatre, which rests purely upon illusion, and does not please us unless
+it begins by deceiving us.
+
+I believe, then, that if one seeks to know the world exactly as it is,
+the theatre does not furnish the means whereby one can pursue the study.
+A far better opportunity for knowing the private life of a people is
+available through the medium of its great novels. The novelist deals
+with each person as an individual. He speaks to his reader at an hour
+when the mind is disengaged from worldly affairs, and he can add
+without restraint every detail that seems needful to him to complete the
+rounding of his story. He can return at will, should he choose, to the
+source of the plot he is unfolding, in order that his reader may better
+understand him; he can emphasize and dwell upon those details which an
+audience in a theatre will not allow.
+
+The reader, being at leisure, feels no impatience, for he knows that he
+can at any time lay down or take up the book. It is the consciousness of
+this privilege that gives him patience, should he encounter a dull page
+here or there. He may hasten or delay his reading, according to the
+interest he takes in his romance-nay, more, he can return to the earlier
+pages, should he need to do so, for a better comprehension of some
+obscure point. In proportion as he is attracted and interested by the
+romance, and also in the degree of concentration with which he reads
+it, does he grasp better the subtleties of the narrative. No shade of
+character drawing escapes him. He realizes, with keener appreciation,
+the most delicate of human moods, and the novelist is not compelled to
+introduce the characters to him, one by one, distinguishing them only by
+the most general characteristics, but can describe each of those little
+individual idiosyncrasies that contribute to the sum total of a living
+personality.
+
+When I add that the dramatic author is always to a certain extent a
+slave to the public, and must ever seek to please the passing taste of
+his time, it will be recognized that he is often, alas! compelled to
+sacrifice his artistic leanings to popular caprice-that is, if he has
+the natural desire that his generation should applaud him.
+
+As a rule, with the theatre-going masses, one person follows the fads
+or fancies of others, and individual judgments are too apt to be
+irresistibly swayed by current opinion. But the novelist, entirely
+independent of his reader, is not compelled to conform himself to the
+opinion of any person, or to submit to his caprices. He is absolutely
+free to picture society as he sees it, and we therefore can have more
+confidence in his descriptions of the customs and characters of the day.
+
+It is precisely this view of the case that the editor of the series
+has taken, and herein is the raison d’etre of this collection of
+great French romances. The choice was not easy to make. That form of
+literature called the romance abounds with us. France has always
+loved it, for French writers exhibit a curiosity--and I may say an
+indiscretion--that is almost charming in the study of customs and morals
+at large; a quality that induces them to talk freely of themselves and
+of their neighbors, and to set forth fearlessly both the good and the
+bad in human nature. In this fascinating phase of literature, France
+never has produced greater examples than of late years.
+
+In the collection here presented to American readers will be found
+those works especially which reveal the intimate side of French social
+life-works in which are discussed the moral problems that affect most
+potently the life of the world at large. If inquiring spirits seek to
+learn the customs and manners of the France of any age, they must look
+for it among her crowned romances. They need go back no farther than
+Ludovic Halevy, who may be said to open the modern epoch. In the
+romantic school, on its historic side, Alfred de Vigny must be looked
+upon as supreme. De Musset and Anatole France may be taken as revealing
+authoritatively the moral philosophy of nineteenth-century thought. I
+must not omit to mention the Jacqueline of Th. Bentzon, and the “Attic”
+ Philosopher of Emile Souvestre, nor the great names of Loti, Claretie,
+Coppe, Bazin, Bourget, Malot, Droz, De Massa, and last, but not least,
+our French Dickens, Alphonse Daudet. I need not add more; the very names
+of these “Immortals” suffice to commend the series to readers in all
+countries.
+
+One word in conclusion: America may rest assured that her students
+of international literature will find in this series of ‘ouvrages
+couronnes’ all that they may wish to know of France at her own
+fireside--a knowledge that too often escapes them, knowledge that
+embraces not only a faithful picture of contemporary life in the French
+provinces, but a living and exact description of French society in
+modern times. They may feel certain that when they have read these
+romances, they will have sounded the depths and penetrated into the
+hidden intimacies of France, not only as she is, but as she would be
+known.
+
+GASTON BOISSIER
+
+SECRETAIRE PERPETUEL DE L’ACADEMIE FRANCAISE
+
+
+
+
+GEORGES OHNET
+
+The only French novelist whose books have a circulation approaching the
+works of Daudet and of Zola is Georges Ohnet, a writer whose popularity
+is as interesting as his stories, because it explains, though it does
+not excuse, the contempt the Goncourts had for the favor of the great
+French public, and also because it shows how the highest form of
+Romanticism still ferments beneath the varnish of Naturalism in what is
+called genius among the great masses of readers.
+
+Georges Ohnet was born in Paris, April 3, 1848, the son of an architect.
+He was destined for the Bar, but was early attracted by journalism and
+literature. Being a lawyer it was not difficult for him to join the
+editorial staff of Le Pays, and later Le Constitutionnel. This was soon
+after the Franco-German War. His romances, since collected under
+the title ‘Batailles de la Vie’, appeared first in ‘Le Figaro,
+L’Illustration, and Revue des Deux Mondes’, and have been exceedingly
+well received by the public. This relates also to his dramas, some of
+his works meeting with a popular success rarely extended to any author.
+For some time Georges Ohnet did not find the same favor with the
+critics, who often attacked him with a passionate violence and unusual
+severity. True, a high philosophical flow of thoughts cannot be detected
+in his writings, but nevertheless it is certain that the characters and
+the subjects of which he treats are brilliantly sketched and clearly
+developed. They are likewise of perfect morality and honesty.
+
+There was expected of him, however, an idea which was not quite
+realized. Appearing upon the literary stage at a period when Naturalism
+was triumphant, it was for a moment believed that he would restore
+Idealism in the manner of George Sand.
+
+In any case the hostile critics have lost. For years public opinion has
+exalted him, and the reaction is the more significant when compared with
+the tremendous criticism launched against his early romances and novels.
+
+A list of his works follows:
+
+Serge Panine (1881), crowned by the French Academy, has since gone
+through one hundred and fifty French editions; Le Maitre des Forges
+(1882), a prodigious success, two hundred and fifty editions being
+printed (1900); La Comtesse Sarah (1882); Lise Fleuyon (1884); La Grande
+Maynieye (1886); Les Dames de Croix-Mort (1886); Volonte (1888); Le
+Docteur Rameau (1889); Deynier Amour (1889); Le Cure de Favieyes (1890);
+Dette de Haine (1891); Nemsod et Cie. (1892); Le Lendemain des Amours
+(1893); Le Droit de l’Enfant (1894.); Les Vielles Rancunes (1894); La
+Dame en Gris (1895); La Fille du Depute (1896); Le Roi de Paris (1898);
+Au Fond du Gouffre (1899); Gens de la Noce (1900); La Tenibreuse (1900);
+Le Cyasseur d’Affaires (1901); Le Crepuscule (1901); Le Marche a l’Amour
+(1902).
+
+Ohnet’s novels are collected under the titles, ‘Noir et Rose (1887) and
+L’Ame de Pierre (1890).
+
+The dramatic writings of Georges Ohnet, mostly taken from his novels,
+have greatly contributed to his reputation. Le Maitre des Forges was
+played for a full year (Gymnase, 1883); it was followed by Serge Panine
+(1884); La Comtesse Sarah (1887). La Grande Mayniere (1888), met also
+with a decided and prolonged success; Dernier Amour (Gymnase, 1890);
+Colonel Roquebrune (Porte St. Martin, 1897). Before that he had already
+written the plays Regina Sarpi (1875) and Marthe (1877), which yet hold
+a prominent place upon the French stage.
+
+I have shown in this rapid sketch that a man of the stamp of Georges
+Ohnet must have immortal qualities in himself, even though flayed and
+roasted alive by the critics. He is most assuredly an artist in form, is
+endowed with a brilliant style, and has been named “L’Historiographe
+de la bourgeoise contemporaine.” Indeed, antagonism to plutocracy and
+hatred of aristocracy are the fundamental theses in almost every one of
+his books.
+
+His exposition, I repeat, is startlingly neat, the development of his
+plots absolutely logical, and the world has acclaimed his ingenuity in
+dramatic construction. He is truly, and in all senses, of the Ages.
+
+                    VICTOR CHERBOULIEZ
+                   de l’Academie Francaise
+
+
+
+
+SERGE PANINE
+
+
+
+
+BOOK 1.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I. THE HOUSE OF DESVARENNES
+
+The firm of Desvarennes has been in an ancient mansion in the Rue Saint
+Dominique since 1875; it is one of the best known and most important in
+French industry. The counting-houses are in the wings of the building
+looking upon the courtyard, which were occupied by the servants when the
+family whose coat-of-arms has been effaced from above the gate-way were
+still owners of the estate.
+
+Madame Desvarennes inhabits the mansion which she has had magnificently
+renovated. A formidable rival of the Darblays, the great millers of
+France, the firm of Desvarennes is a commercial and political power.
+Inquire in Paris about its solvency, and you will be told that you may
+safely advance twenty millions of francs on the signature of the head of
+the firm. And this head is a woman.
+
+This woman is remarkable. Gifted with keen understanding and a firm
+will, she had in former times vowed to make a large fortune, and she has
+kept her word.
+
+She was the daughter of a humble packer of the Rue Neuve-Coquenard.
+Toward 1848 she married Michel Desvarennes, who was then a journeyman
+baker in a large shop in the Chaussee d’Antin. With the thousand francs
+which the packer managed to give his daughter by way of dowry, the young
+couple boldly took a shop and started a little bakery business. The
+husband kneaded and baked the bread, and the young wife, seated at the
+counter, kept watch over the till. Neither on Sundays nor on holidays
+was the shop shut.
+
+Through the window, between two pyramids of pink and blue packets of
+biscuits, one could always catch sight of the serious-looking Madame
+Desvarennes, knitting woollen stockings for her husband while waiting
+for customers. With her prominent forehead, and her eyes always bent on
+her work, this woman appeared the living image of perseverance.
+
+At the end of five years of incessant work, and possessing twenty
+thousand francs, saved sou by sou, the Desvarennes left the slopes of
+Montmartre, and moved to the centre of Paris. They were ambitious
+and full of confidence. They set up in the Rue Vivienne, in a shop
+resplendent with gilding and ornamented with looking-glasses. The
+ceiling was painted in panels with bright hued pictures that caught the
+eyes of the passers-by. The window-shelves were of white marble, and the
+counter, where Madame Desvarennes was still enthroned, was of a width
+worthy of the receipts that were taken every day. Business increased
+daily; the Desvarennes continued to be hard and systematic workers.
+The class of customers alone had changed; they were more numerous
+and richer. The house had a specialty for making small rolls for the
+restaurants. Michel had learned from the Viennese bakers how to make
+those golden balls which tempt the most rebellious appetite, and which,
+when in an artistically folded damask napkin, set off a dinner-table.
+
+About this time Madame Desvarennes, while calculating how much the
+millers must gain on the flour they sell to the bakers, resolved, in
+order to lessen expenses, to do without middlemen and grind her own
+corn. Michel, naturally timid, was frightened when his wife disclosed to
+him the simple project which she had formed. Accustomed to submit to the
+will of her whom he respectfully called “the mistress,” and of whom he
+was but the head clerk, he dared not oppose her. But, a red-tapist by
+nature, and hating innovations, owing to weakness of mind, he trembled
+inwardly and cried in agony:
+
+“Wife, you’ll ruin us.”
+
+The mistress calmed the poor man’s alarm; she tried to impart to him
+some of her confidence, to animate him with her hope, but without
+success, so she went on without him. A mill was for sale at Jouy, on the
+banks of the Oise; she paid ready money for it, and a few weeks later
+the bakery in the Rue Vivienne was independent of every one. She ground
+her own flour, and from that time business increased considerably.
+Feeling capable of carrying out large undertakings, and, moreover,
+desirous of giving up the meannesses of retail trade, Madame
+Desvarennes, one fine day, sent in a tender for supplying bread to the
+military hospitals. It was accepted, and from that time the house ranked
+among the most important. On seeing the Desvarennes take their daring
+flight, the leading men in the trade had said:
+
+“They have system and activity, and if they do not upset on the way,
+they will attain a high position.”
+
+But the mistress seemed to have the gift of divination. She worked
+surely--if she struck out one way you might be certain that success
+was there. In all her enterprises, “good luck” stood close by her; she
+scented failures from afar, and the firm never made a bad debt. Still
+Michel continued to tremble. The first mill had been followed by many
+more; then the old system appeared insufficient to Madame Desvarennes.
+As she wished to keep up with the increase of business she had
+steam-mills built,--which are now grinding three hundred million francs’
+worth of corn every year.
+
+Fortune had favored the house immensely, but Michel continued to
+tremble. From time to time when the mistress launched out a new
+business, he timidly ventured on his usual saying:
+
+“Wife, you’re going to ruin us.”
+
+But one felt it was only for form’s sake, and that he himself no
+longer meant what he said. Madame Desvarennes received this plaintive
+remonstrance with a calm smile, and answered, maternally, as to a child:
+
+“There, there, don’t be frightened.”
+
+Then she would set to work again, and direct with irresistible vigor the
+army of clerks who peopled her counting-houses.
+
+In fifteen years’ time, by prodigious efforts of will and energy,
+Madame Desvarennes had made her way from the lonely and muddy Rue
+Neuve-Coquenard to the mansion in the Rue Saint-Dominique. Of the bakery
+there was no longer question. It was some time since the business in the
+Rue Vivienne had been transferred to the foreman of the shop. The flour
+trade alone occupied Madame Desvarennes’s attention. She ruled the
+prices in the market; and great bankers came to her office and did
+business with her on a footing of equality. She did not become any
+prouder for it, she knew too well the strength and weakness of life
+to have pride; her former plain dealing had not stiffened into
+self-sufficiency. Such as one had known her when beginning business,
+such one found her in the zenith of her fortune. Instead of a woollen
+gown she wore a silk one, but the color was still black; her language
+had not become refined; she retained the same blunt familiar accent, and
+at the end of five minutes’ conversation with any one of importance she
+could not resist calling him “my dear,” to come morally near him. Her
+commands had more fulness. In giving her orders, she had the manner of
+a commander-in-chief, and it was useless to haggle when she had spoken.
+The best thing to do was to obey, as well and as promptly as possible.
+
+Placed in a political sphere, this marvellously gifted woman would
+have been a Madame Roland; born to the throne, she would have been a
+Catherine II.; there was genius in her. Sprung from the lower ranks,
+her superiority had given her wealth; had she come from the higher, the
+great mind might have governed the world.
+
+Still she was not happy; she had been married fifteen years, and her
+fireside was devoid of a cradle. During the first years she had rejoiced
+at not having a child. Where could she have found time to occupy herself
+with a baby? Business engrossed her attention; she had no leisure to
+amuse herself with trifles. Maternity seemed to her a luxury for
+rich women; she had her fortune to make. In the struggle against the
+difficulties attending the enterprise she had begun, she had not had
+time to look around her and perceive that her home was lonely. She
+worked from morning till night. Her whole life was absorbed in this
+work, and when night came, overcome with fatigue, she fell asleep, her
+head filled with cares which stifled all tricks of the imagination.
+
+Michel grieved, but in silence; his feeble and dependent nature missed a
+child. He, whose mind lacked occupation, thought of the future. He said
+to himself that the day when the dreamt-of fortune came would be more
+welcome if there were an heir to whom to leave it. What was the good
+of being rich, if the money went to collateral relatives? There was
+his nephew Savinien, a disagreeable urchin whom he looked on with
+indifference; and he was biased regarding his brother, who had all but
+failed several times in business, and to whose aid he had come to save
+the honor of the name. The mistress had not hesitated to help him, and
+had prevented the signature of “Desvarennes” being protested. She had
+not taunted him, having as large a heart as she had a mind. But Michel
+had felt humiliated to see his own folk make a gap in the financial
+edifice erected so laboriously by his wife. Out of this had gradually
+sprung a sense of dissatisfaction with the Desvarennes of the other
+branch, which manifested itself by a marked coolness, when, by chance,
+his brother came to the house, accompanied by his son Savinien.
+
+And then the paternity of his brother made him secretly jealous. Why
+should that incapable fellow, who succeeded in nothing, have a son? It
+was only those ne’er-do-well sort of people who were thus favored. He,
+Michel, already called the rich Desvarennes, he had not a son. Was it
+just? But where is there justice in this world?
+
+The first time that she saw him with a downcast face the mistress had
+questioned him, and he had frankly expressed his regrets. But he had
+been so repelled by his wife, in whose heart a great trouble, steadily
+repressed, however, had been produced, that he never dared to recur to
+the subject.
+
+He suffered in silence. But he no longer suffered alone. Like an
+overflowing river that finds an outlet in the valley, which it
+inundates, the longings for maternity, hitherto repressed by the
+preoccupations of business, had suddenly seized Madame Desvarennes.
+
+Strong and unyielding, she struggled and would not own herself
+conquered. Still she became sad. Her voice sounded less sonorously
+in the offices where she gave an order; her energetic nature seemed
+subdued. Now she looked around her. She beheld prosperity made stable by
+incessant work, respect gained by spotless honesty; she had attained the
+goal which she had marked out in her ambitious dreams, as being paradise
+itself. Paradise was there; but it lacked the angel. They had no child.
+
+From that day a change came over this woman, slowly but surely; scarcely
+perceptible to strangers, but easy to be seen by those around her. She
+became benevolent, and gave away considerable sums of money, especially
+to children’s “Homes.” But when the good people who governed these
+establishments, lured on by her generosity, came to ask her to be on
+their committee of management, she became angry, asking them if they
+were joking with her? What interest could those brats have for her? She
+had other fish to fry. She gave them what they needed, and what
+more could they want? The fact was she felt weak and troubled before
+children. But within her a powerful and unknown voice had arisen, and
+the hour was not far distant when the bitter wave of her regrets was to
+overflow and be made manifest.
+
+She did not like Savinien, her nephew, and kept all her sweetness for
+the son of one of their old neighbors in the Rue Neuve-Coquenard, a
+small haberdasher, who had not been able to get on, but continued humbly
+to sell thread and needles to the thrifty folks of the neighborhood.
+The haberdasher, Mother Delarue, as she was called, had remained a widow
+after one year of married life. Pierre, her boy, had grown up under the
+shadow of the bakery, the cradle of the Desvarennes’s fortunes.
+
+On Sundays the mistress would give him a gingerbread or a cracknel, and
+amuse herself with his baby prattle. She did not lose sight of him
+when she removed to the Rue Vivienne. Pierre had entered the elementary
+school of the neighborhood, and by his precocious intelligence and
+exceptional application, had not been long in getting to the top of his
+class. The boy had left school after gaining an exhibition admitting
+him to the Chaptal College. This hard worker, who was in a fair way of
+making his own position without costing his relatives anything, greatly
+interested Madame Desvarennes. She found in this plucky nature a
+striking analogy to herself. She formed projects for Pierre’s future;
+in fancy she saw him enter the Polytechnic school, and leave it with
+honors. The young man had the choice of becoming a mining or civil
+engineer, and of entering the government service.
+
+He was hesitating what to do when the mistress came and offered him a
+situation in her firm as junior partner; it was a golden bridge that she
+placed before him. With his exceptional capacities he was not long
+in giving to the house a new impulse. He perfected the machinery, and
+triumphantly defied all competition. All this was a happy dream in which
+Pierre was to her a real son; her home became his, and she monopolized
+him completely. But suddenly a shadow came o’er the spirit of her
+dreams. Pierre’s mother, the little haberdasher, proud of her son, would
+she consent to give him up to a stranger? Oh! if Pierre had only been
+an orphan! But one could not rob a mother of her son! And Madame
+Desvarennes stopped the flight of her imagination. She followed Pierre
+with anxious looks; but she forbade herself to dispose of the youth: he
+did not belong to her.
+
+This woman, at the age of thirty-five, still young in heart, was
+disturbed by feelings which she strove, but vainly, to rule. She hid
+them especially from her husband, whose repining chattering she feared.
+If she had once shown him her weakness he would have overwhelmed her
+daily with the burden of his regrets. But an unforeseen circumstance
+placed her at Michel’s mercy.
+
+Winter had come, bringing December and its snow. The weather this
+year was exceptionally inclement, and traffic in the streets was so
+difficult, business was almost suspended. The mistress left her deserted
+offices and retired early to her private apartments. The husband and
+wife spent their evenings alone. They sat there, facing each other, at
+the fireside. A shade concentrated the light of the lamp upon the table
+covered with expensive knick-knacks. The ceiling was sometimes vaguely
+lighted up by a glimmer from the stove which glittered on the gilt
+cornices. Ensconced in deep comfortable armchairs, the pair respectively
+caressed their favorite dream without speaking of it.
+
+Madame Desvarennes saw beside her a little pink-and-white baby girl,
+toddling on the carpet. She heard her words, understood her language,
+untranslatable to all others than a mother. Then bedtime came. The
+child, with heavy eyelids, let her little fair-haired head fall on her
+shoulders. Madame Desvarennes took her in her arms and undressed her
+quietly, kissing her bare and dimpled arms. It was exquisite enjoyment
+which stirred her heart deliciously. She saw the cradle, and devoured
+the child with her eyes. She knew that the picture was a myth. But
+what did it matter to her? She was happy. Michel’s voice broke on her
+reverie.
+
+“Wife,” said he, “this is Christmas Eve; and as there are only us two,
+suppose you put your slipper on the hearth.”
+
+Madame Desvarennes rose. Her eyes vaguely turned toward the hearth on
+which the fire was dying, and beside the upright of the large sculptured
+mantelpiece she beheld for a moment a tiny shoe, belonging to the child
+which she loved to see in her dreams. Then the vision vanished, and
+there was nothing left but the lonely hearth. A sharp pain tore her
+swollen heart; a sob rose to her lips, and, slowly, two tears rolled
+down her cheeks. Michel, quite pale, looked at her in silence; he held
+out his hand to her, and said, in a trembling voice:
+
+“You were thinking about it, eh?”
+
+Madame Desvarennes bowed her head, twice, silently, and without adding
+another word, the pair fell into each other’s arms and wept.
+
+From that day they hid nothing from each other, and shared their
+troubles and regrets in common. The mistress unburdened her heart by
+making a full confession, and Michel, for the first time in his life,
+learned the depth of soul of his companion to its inmost recesses. This
+woman, so energetic, so obstinate, was, as it were, broken down.
+The springs of her will seemed worn out. She felt despondencies and
+wearinesses until then unknown. Work tired her. She did not venture down
+to the offices; she talked of giving up business, which was a bad sign.
+She longed for country air. Were they not rich enough? With their simple
+tastes so much money was unnecessary. In fact, they had no wants. They
+would go to some pretty estate in the suburbs of Paris, live there and
+plant cabbages. Why work? they had no children.
+
+Michel agreed to these schemes. For a long time he had wished for
+repose. Often he had feared that his wife’s ambition would lead them too
+far. But now, since she stopped of her own accord, it was all for the
+best.
+
+At this juncture their solicitor informed them that, near to their
+works, the Cernay estate was to be put up for sale. Very often, when
+going from Jouy to the mills, Madame Desvarennes had noticed the
+chateau, the slate roofs of the turrets of which rose gracefully from a
+mass of deep verdure. The Count de Cernay, the last representative of a
+noble race, had just died of consumption, brought on by reckless living,
+leaving nothing behind him but debts and a little girl two years old.
+Her mother, an Italian singer and his mistress, had left him one morning
+without troubling herself about the child. Everything was to be sold, by
+order of the Court.
+
+Some most lamentable incidents had saddened the Count’s last hours. The
+bailiffs had entered the house with the doctor when he came to pay his
+last call, and the notices of the sale were all but posted up before the
+funeral was over. Jeanne, the orphan, scared amid the troubles of this
+wretched end, seeing unknown men walking into the reception-rooms with
+their hats on, hearing strangers speaking loudly and with arrogance, had
+taken refuge in the laundry. It was there that Madame Desvarennes found
+her, playing, plainly dressed in a little alpaca frock, her pretty hair
+loose and falling on her shoulders. She looked astonished at what she
+had seen; silent, not daring to run or sing as formerly in the great
+desolate house whence the master had just been taken away forever.
+
+With the vague instinct of abandoned children who seek to attach
+themselves to some one or some thing, Jeanne clung to Madame
+Desvarennes, who, ready to protect, and longing for maternity, took the
+child in her arms. The gardener’s wife acted as guide during her visit
+over the property. Madame Desvarennes questioned her. She knew nothing
+of the child except what she had heard from the servants when they
+gossiped in the evenings about their late master. They said Jeanne was
+a bastard. Of her relatives they knew nothing. The Count had an aunt in
+England who was married to a rich lord; but he had not corresponded with
+her lately. The little one then was reduced to beggary as the estate was
+to be sold.
+
+The gardener’s wife was a good woman and was willing to keep the child
+until the new proprietor came; but when once affairs were settled, she
+would certainly go and make a declaration to the mayor, and take her to
+the workhouse. Madame Desvarennes listened in silence. One word only had
+struck her while the woman was speaking. The child was without support,
+without ties, and abandoned like a poor lost dog. The little one was
+pretty too; and when she fixed her large deep eyes on that improvised
+mother, who pressed her so tenderly to her heart, she seemed to implore
+her not to put her down, and to carry her away from the mourning that
+troubled her mind and the isolation that froze her heart.
+
+Madame Desvarennes, very superstitious, like a woman of the people,
+began to think that, perhaps, Providence had brought her to Cernay that
+day and had placed the child in her path. It was perhaps a reparation
+which heaven granted her, in giving her the little girl she so longed
+for. Acting unhesitatingly, as she did in everything, she left her name
+with the woman, carried Jeanne to her carriage, and took her to Paris,
+promising herself to make inquiries to find her relatives.
+
+A month later, the property of Cernay pleasing her, and the researches
+for Jeanne’s friends not proving successful, Madame Desvarennes took
+possession of the estate and the child into the bargain.
+
+Michel welcomed the child without enthusiasm. The little stranger was
+indifferent to him; he would have preferred adopting a boy. The mistress
+was delighted. Her maternal instincts, so long stifled, developed fully.
+She made plans for the future. Her energy returned; she spoke loudly and
+firmly. But in her appearance there was revealed an inward contentment
+never remarked before, which made her sweeter and more benevolent. She
+no longer spoke of retiring from business. The discouragement which had
+seized her left her as if by magic. The house which had been so dull
+for some months became noisy and gay. The child, like a sunbeam, had
+scattered the clouds.
+
+It was then that the most unlooked-for phenomenon, which was so
+considerably to influence Madame Desvarennes’s life, occurred. At the
+moment when the mistress seemed provided by chance with the heiress so
+much longed for, she learned with surprise that she was about to become
+a mother! After sixteen years of married life, this discovery was almost
+a discomfiture. What would have been delight formerly was now a cause
+for fear. She, almost an old woman!
+
+There was an incredible commotion in the business world when the news
+became known. The younger branch of Desvarennes had witnessed Jeanne’s
+arrival with little satisfaction, and were still more gloomy when they
+learned that the chances of their succeeding to great wealth were over.
+Still they did not lose all hopes. At thirty-five years of age one
+cannot always tell how these little affairs will come off. An accident
+was possible. But none occurred; all passed off well.
+
+Madame Desvarennes was as strong physically as she was morally, and
+proved victorious by bringing into the world a little girl, who was
+named Micheline in honor of her father. The mistress’s heart was large
+enough to hold two children; she kept the orphan she had adopted, and
+brought her up as if she had been her very own. Still there was soon an
+enormous difference in her manner of loving Jeanne and Micheline. This
+mother had for the long-wished-for child an ardent, mad, passionate love
+like that of a tigress for her cubs. She had never loved her husband.
+All the tenderness which had accumulated in her heart blossomed, and it
+was like spring.
+
+This autocrat, who had never allowed contradiction, and before whom all
+her dependents bowed either with or against the grain, was now led in
+her turn; the bronze of her character became like wax in the little pink
+hands of her daughter. The commanding woman bent before the little fair
+head. There was nothing good enough for Micheline. Had the mother owned
+the world she would have placed it at the little one’s feet. One tear
+from the child upset her. If on one of the most important subjects
+Madame Desvarennes had said “No,” and Micheline came and said “Yes,”
+ the hitherto resolute will became subordinate to the caprice of a child.
+They knew it in the house and acted upon it. This manoeuvre succeeded
+each time, although Madame Desvarennes had seen through it from the
+first. It appeared as if the mother felt a secret joy in proving
+under all circumstances the unbounded adoration which she felt for her
+daughter. She often said:
+
+“Pretty as she is, and rich as I shall make her, what husband will be
+worthy of Micheline? But if she believes me when it is time to choose
+one, she will prefer a man remarkable for his intelligence, and will
+give him her fortune as a stepping-stone to raise him as high as she
+chooses him to go.”
+
+Inwardly she was thinking of Pierre Delarue, who had just taken honors
+at the Polytechnic school, and who seemed to have a brilliant career
+before him. This woman, humbly born, was proud of her origin, and
+sought a plebeian for her son-in-law, to put into his hand a golden tool
+powerful enough to move the world.
+
+Micheline was ten years old when her father died. Alas, Michel was not a
+great loss. They wore mourning for him; but they hardly noticed that he
+was absent. His whole life had been a void. Madame Desvarennes, it
+is sad to say, felt herself more mistress of her child when she was
+a widow. She was jealous of Micheline’s affections, and each kiss the
+child gave her father seemed to the mother to be robbed from her. With
+this fierce tenderness, she preferred solitude around this beloved
+being.
+
+At this time Madame Desvarennes was really in the zenith of womanly
+splendor. She seemed taller, her figure had straightened, vigorous and
+powerful. Her gray hair gave her face a majestic appearance. Always
+surrounded by a court of clients and friends, she seemed like a
+sovereign. The fortune of the firm was not to be computed. It was said
+Madame Desvarennes did not know how rich she was.
+
+Jeanne and Micheline grew up amid this colossal prosperity. The one,
+tall, brown-haired, with blue eyes changing like the sea; the other,
+fragile, fair, with dark dreamy eyes. Jeanne, proud, capricious, and
+inconstant; Micheline, simple, sweet, and tenacious. The brunette
+inherited from her reckless father and her fanciful mother a violent and
+passionate nature; the blonde was tractable and good like Michel, but
+resolute and firm like Madame Desvarennes. These two opposite natures
+were congenial, Micheline sincerely loving Jeanne, and Jeanne feeling
+the necessity of living amicably with Micheline, her mother’s idol,
+but inwardly enduring with difficulty the inequalities which began to
+exhibit themselves in the manner with which the intimates of the house
+treated the one and the other. She found these flatteries wounding, and
+thought Madame Desvarennes’s preferences for Micheline unjust.
+
+All these accumulated grievances made Jeanne conceive the wish one
+morning of leaving the house where she had been brought up, and where
+she now felt humiliated. Pretending to long to go to England to see
+that rich relative of her father, who, knowing her to be in a brilliant
+society, had taken notice of her, she asked Madame Desvarennes to allow
+her to spend a few weeks from home. She wished to try the ground in
+England, and see what she might expect in the future from her family.
+Madame Desvarennes lent herself to this whim, not guessing the young
+girl’s real motive; and Jeanne, well attended, went to her aunt’s home
+in England.
+
+Madame Desvarennes, besides, had attained the summit of her hopes,
+and an event had just taken place which preoccupied her. Micheline,
+deferring to her mother’s wishes, had decided to allow herself to be
+betrothed to Pierre Delarue, who had just lost his mother, and whose
+business improved daily. The young girl, accustomed to treat Pierre like
+a brother, had easily consented to accept him as her future husband.
+
+Jeanne, who had been away for six months, had returned sobered and
+disillusioned about her family. She had found them kind and affable, had
+received many compliments on her beauty, which was really remarkable,
+but had not met with any encouragement in her desires for independence.
+She came home resolved not to leave until she married. She arrived in
+the Rue Saint-Dominique at the moment when Pierre Delarue, thirsting
+with ambition, was leaving his betrothed, his relatives, and gay Paris
+to undertake engineering work on the coasts of Algeria and Tunis that
+would raise him above his rivals. In leaving, the young man did not for
+a moment think that Jeanne was returning from England at the same hour
+with trouble for him in the person of a very handsome cavalier, Prince
+Serge Panine, who had been introduced to her at a ball during the London
+season. Mademoiselle de Cernay, availing herself of English liberty,
+was returning escorted only by a maid in company with the Prince. The
+journey had been delightful. The tete-a-tete travelling had pleased the
+young people, and on leaving the train they had promised to see each
+other again. Official balls facilitated their meeting; Serge was
+introduced to Madame Desvarennes as being an English friend, and soon
+became the most assiduous partner of Jeanne and Micheline. It was thus,
+under the most trivial pretext, that the man gained admittance to the
+house where he was to play such an important part.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II. THE GALLEY-SLAVE OF PLEASURE
+
+One morning in the month of May, 1879, a young man, elegantly attired,
+alighted from a well-appointed carriage before the door of Madame
+Desvarennes’s house. The young man passed quickly before the porter in
+uniform, decorated with a military medal, stationed near the door. The
+visitor found himself in an anteroom which communicated with several
+corridors. A messenger was seated in the depth of a large armchair,
+reading the newspaper, and not even lending an inattentive ear to
+the whispered conversation of a dozen canvassers, who were patiently
+awaiting their turn for gaining a hearing. On seeing the young man enter
+by the private door, the messenger rose, dropped his newspaper on the
+armchair, hastily raised his velvet skullcap, tried to smile, and made
+two steps forward.
+
+“Good-morning, old Felix,” said the young man, in a friendly tone to the
+messenger. “Is my aunt within?”
+
+“Yes, Monsieur Savinien, Madame Desvarennes is in her office; but she
+has been engaged for more than an hour with the Financial Secretary of
+the War Department.”
+
+In uttering these words old Felix put on a mysterious and important air,
+which denoted how serious the discussions going on in the adjoining room
+seemed to his mind.
+
+“You see,” continued he, showing Madame Desvarennes’s nephew the
+anteroom full of people, “madame has kept all these waiting since this
+morning, and perhaps she won’t see them.”
+
+“I must see her though,” murmured the young man.
+
+He reflected a moment, then added:
+
+“Is Monsieur Marechal in?”
+
+“Yes, sir, certainly. If you will allow me I will announce you.”
+
+“It is unnecessary.”
+
+And, stepping forward, he entered the office adjoining that of Madame
+Desvarennes.
+
+Seated at a large table of black wood, covered with bundles of papers
+and notes, a young man was working. He was thirty years of age, but
+appeared much older. His prematurely bald forehead, and wrinkled brow,
+betokened a life of severe struggles and privations, or a life of
+excesses and pleasures. Still those clear and pure eyes were not those
+of a libertine, and the straight nose solidly joined to the face was
+that of a searcher. Whatever the cause, the man was old before his time.
+
+On hearing the door of his office open, he raised his eyes, put down
+his pen, and was making a movement toward his visitor, when the latter
+interrupted him quickly with these words:
+
+“Don’t stir, Marechal, or I shall be off! I only came in until Aunt
+Desvarennes is at liberty; but if I disturb you I will go and take a
+turn, smoke a cigar, and come back in three quarters of an hour.”
+
+“You do not disturb me, Monsieur Savinien; at least not often enough,
+for be it said, without reproaching you, it is more than three months
+since we have seen anything of you. There, the post is finished. I was
+writing the last addresses.”
+
+And taking a heavy bundle of papers off the desk, Marechal showed them
+to Savinien.
+
+“Gracious! It seems that business is going on well here.”
+
+“Better and better.”
+
+“You are making mountains of flour.”
+
+“Yes; high as Mont Blanc; and then, we now have a fleet.”
+
+“What! a fleet?” cried Savinien, whose face expressed doubt and surprise
+at the same time.
+
+“Yes, a steam fleet. Last year Madame Desvarennes was not satisfied with
+the state in which her corn came from the East. The corn was damaged
+owing to defective stowage; the firm claimed compensation from the
+steamship company. The claim was only moderately satisfied, Madame
+Desvarennes got vexed, and now we import our own. We have branches at
+Smyrna and Odessa.”
+
+“It is fabulous! If it goes on, my aunt will have an administration
+as important as that of a European state. Oh! you are happy here, you
+people; you are busy. I amuse myself! And if you knew how it wearies me!
+I am withering, consuming myself, I am longing for business.”
+
+And saying these words, young Monsieur Desvarennes allowed a sorrowful
+moan to escape him.
+
+“It seems to me,” said Marechal, “that it only depends upon yourself to
+do as much and more business than any one?”
+
+“You know well enough that it is not so,” sighed Savinien; “my aunt is
+opposed to it.”
+
+“What a mistake!” cried Marechal, quickly. “I have heard Madame
+Desvarennes say more than twenty times how she regretted your being
+unemployed. Come into the firm, you will have a good berth in the
+counting-house.”
+
+“In the counting-house!” cried Savinien, bitterly; “there’s the sore
+point. Now look here; my friend, do you think that an organization like
+mine is made to bend to the trivialities of a copying clerk’s work? To
+follow the humdrum of every-day routine? To blacken paper? To become a
+servant?--me! with what I have in my brain?”
+
+And, rising abruptly, Savinien began to walk hurriedly up and down the
+room, disdainfully shaking his little head with its low forehead on
+which were plastered a few fair curls (made with curling-irons), with
+the indignant air of an Atlas carrying the world on his shoulders.
+
+“Oh, I know very well what is at the bottom of the business--my aunt is
+jealous of me because I am a man of ideas. She wishes to be the only
+one of the family who possesses any. She thinks of binding me down to a
+besotting work,” continued he, “but I won’t have it. I know what I
+want! It is independence of thought, bent on the solution of great
+problems--that is, a wide field to apply my discoveries. But a fixed
+rule, common law, I could not submit to it.”
+
+“It is like the examinations,” observed Marechal, looking slyly at
+young Desvarennes, who was drawing himself up to his full height;
+“examinations never suited you.”
+
+“Never,” said Savinien, energetically. “They wished to get me into the
+Polytechnic School; impossible! Then the Central School; no better. I
+astonished the examiners by the novelty of my ideas. They refused me.”
+
+“Well, you know,” retorted Marechal, “if you began by overthrowing their
+theories--”
+
+“That’s it!” cried Savinien, triumphantly. “My mind is stronger than I;
+I must let my imagination have free run, and no one will ever know what
+that particular turn of mind has cost me. Even my family do not think
+me serious. Aunt Desvarennes has forbidden any kind of enterprise, under
+pretence that I bear her name, and that I might compromise it because I
+have twice failed. My aunt paid, it is true. Do you think it is generous
+of her to take advantage of my situation, and prohibit my trying to
+succeed? Are inventors judged by three or four failures? If my aunt had
+allowed me I should have astonished the world.”
+
+“She feared, above all,” said Marechal, simply, “to see you astonishing
+the Tribunal of Commerce.”
+
+“Oh! you, too,” moaned Savinien, “are in league with my enemies; you
+make no account of me.”
+
+And young Desvarennes sank as if crushed into an armchair and began to
+lament. He was very unhappy at being misunderstood. His aunt allowed him
+three thousand francs a month on condition that he would not make use of
+his ten fingers. Was it moral? Then he with such exuberant vigor had to
+waste it on pleasure and seeing life to the utmost. He passed his time
+in theatres, at clubs, restaurants, in boudoirs. He lost his time, his
+money, his hair, his illusions. He bemoaned his lot, but continued,
+only to have something to do. With grim sarcasm he called himself
+the galley-slave of pleasure. And notwithstanding all these consuming
+excesses, he asserted that he could not render his imagination barren.
+Amid the greatest follies at suppers, during the clinking of glasses; in
+the excitement of the dance-inspirations came to him in flashes, he made
+prodigious discoveries.
+
+And as Marechal ventured a timid “Oh!” tinged with incredulity, Savinien
+flew into a passion. Yes; he had invented something astonishing; he saw
+fortune within reach, and he thought the bargain made with his aunt very
+unjust. Therefore he had come to break it, and to regain his liberty.
+
+Marechal looked at the young man while he was explaining with animation
+his ambitious projects. He scrutinized that flat forehead within which
+the dandy asserted so many good ideas were hidden. He measured that slim
+form bent by wild living, and asked himself how that degenerate being
+could struggle against the difficulties of business. A smile played on
+his lips. He knew Savinien too well not to be aware that he was a prey
+to one of those attacks of melancholy which seized on him when his funds
+were low.
+
+On these occasions, which occurred frequently, the young man had
+longings for business, which Madame Desvarennes stopped by asking: “How
+much?” Savinien allowed himself to be with difficulty induced to consent
+to renounce the certain profits promised, as he said, by his projected
+enterprise. At last he would capitulate, and with his pocket well
+lined, nimble and joyful, he returned to his boudoirs, race-courses,
+fashionable restaurants, and became more than ever the galley-slave of
+pleasure.
+
+“And Pierre?” asked young Desvarennes, suddenly and quickly changing the
+subject. “Have you any news of him?”
+
+Marechal became serious. A cloud seemed to have come across his brow; he
+gravely answered Savinien’s question.
+
+Pierre was still in the East. He was travelling toward Tunis, the coast
+of which he was exploring. It was a question of the formation of
+an inland sea by taking the water through the desert. It would be a
+colossal undertaking, the results of which would be considerable as
+regarded Algeria. The climate would be completely changed, and the value
+of the colony would be increased tenfold, because it would become the
+most fertile country in the world. Pierre had been occupied in this
+undertaking for more than a year with unequalled ardor; he was far from
+his home, his betrothed, seeing only the goal to be attained; turning a
+deaf ear to all that would distract his attention from the great work,
+to the success of which he hoped to contribute gloriously.
+
+“And don’t people say,” resumed Savinien with an evil smile, “that
+during his absence a dashing young fellow is busy luring his betrothed
+away from him?”
+
+At these words Marechal made a quick movement.
+
+“It is false,” he interrupted; “and I do not understand how you,
+Monsieur Desvarennes, should be the bearer of such a tale. To admit that
+Mademoiselle Micheline could break her word or her engagements is to
+slander her, and if any one other than you--”
+
+“There, there, my dear friend,” said Savinien, laughing, “don’t get
+into a rage. What I say to you I would not repeat to the first comer;
+besides, I am only the echo of a rumor that has been going the round
+during the last three weeks. They even give the name of him who has been
+chosen for the honor and pleasure of such a brilliant conquest. I mean
+Prince Serge Panine.”
+
+“As you have mentioned Prince Panine,” replied Marechal, “allow me to
+tell you that he has not put his foot inside Madame Desvarennes’s
+door for three weeks. This is not the way of a man about to marry the
+daughter of the house.”
+
+“My dear fellow, I only repeat what I have heard. As for me, I don’t
+know any more. I have kept out of the way for more than three months.
+And besides, it matters little to me whether Micheline be a commoner or
+a princess, the wife of Delarue or of Panine. I shall be none the richer
+or the poorer, shall I? Therefore I need not care. The dear child will
+certainly have millions enough to marry easily. And her adopted sister,
+the stately Mademoiselle Jeanne, what has become of her?”
+
+“Ah! as to Mademoiselle de Cernay, that is another affair,” cried
+Marechal.
+
+And as if wishing to divert the conversation in an opposite direction
+to which Savinien had led it a moment before, he spoke readily of Madame
+Desvarennes’s adopted daughter. She had made a lively impression on one
+of the intimate friends of the house--the banker Cayrol, who had offered
+his name and his fortune to the fair Jeanne.
+
+This was a cause of deep amazement to Savinien. What! Cayrol! The shrewd
+close--fisted Auvergnat! A girl without a fortune! Cayrol Silex as he
+was called in the commercial world on account of his hardness. This
+living money-bag had a heart then! It was necessary to believe it since
+both money-bag and heart had been placed at Mademoiselle de Cernay’s
+feet. This strange girl was certainly destined to millions. She had just
+missed being Madame Desvarennes’s heiress, and now Cayrol had taken it
+into his head to marry her.
+
+But that was not all. And when Marechal told Savinien that the fair
+Jeanne flatly refused to become the wife of Cayrol, there was an
+outburst of joyful exclamations. She refused! By Jove, she was mad! An
+unlooked-for marriage--for she had not a penny, and had most extravagant
+notions. She had been brought up as if she were to live always in velvet
+and silks--to loll in carriages and think only of her pleasure. What
+reason did she give for refusing him! None. Haughtily and disdainfully
+she had declared that she did not love “that man,” and that she would
+not marry him.
+
+When Savinien heard these details his rapture increased. One thing
+especially charmed him: Jeanne’s saying “that man,” when speaking of
+Cayrol. A little girl who was called “De Cernay” just as he might call
+himself “Des Batignolles” if he pleased: the natural and unacknowledged
+daughter of a Count and of a shady public singer! And she refused
+Cayrol, calling him “that man.” It was really funny. And what did worthy
+Cayrol say about it?
+
+When Marechal declared that the banker had not been damped by this
+discouraging reception, Savinien said it was human nature. The fair
+Jeanne scorned Cayrol and Cayrol adored her. He had often seen those
+things happen. He knew the baggages so well! Nobody knew more of women
+than he did. He had known some more difficult to manage than proud
+Mademoiselle Jeanne.
+
+An old leaven of hatred had festered in Savinien’s heart against Jeanne
+since the time when the younger branch of the Desvarennes had reason
+to fear that the superb heritage was going to the adopted daughter.
+Savinien had lost the fear, but had kept up the animosity. And
+everything that could happen to Jeanne of a vexing or painful nature
+would be witnessed by him with pleasure.
+
+He was about to encourage Marechal to continue his revelations, and had
+risen and was leaning on the desk. With his face excited and eager, he
+was preparing his question, when, through the door which led to Madame
+Desvarennes’s office, a confused murmur of voices was heard. At the
+same time the door was half opened, held by a woman’s hand, square, with
+short fingers, a firm-willed and energetic hand. At the same time,
+the last words exchanged between Madame Desvarennes and the Financial
+Secretary of the War Office were distinctly audible. Madame Desvarennes
+was speaking, and her voice sounded clear and plain; a little raised and
+vibrating. There seemed a shade of anger in its tone.
+
+“My dear sir, you will tell the Minister that does not suit me. It is
+not the custom of the house. For thirty-five years I have conducted
+business thus, and I have always found it answer. I wish you
+good-morning.”
+
+The door of the office facing that which Madame Desvarennes held
+closed, and a light step glided along the corridor. It was the Financial
+Secretary’s. The mistress appeared.
+
+Marechal rose hastily. As to Savinien, all his resolution seemed to have
+vanished at the sound of his aunt’s voice, for he had rapidly gained a
+corner of the room, and seated himself on a leather-covered sofa, hidden
+behind an armchair, where he remained perfectly quiet.
+
+“Do you understand that, Marechal?” said dame Desvarennes; “they want to
+place a resident agent at the mill on pretext of checking things. They
+say that all military contractors are obliged to submit to it. My word,
+do they take us for thieves, the rascals? It is the first time that
+people have seemed to doubt me. And it has enraged me. I have been
+arguing for a whole hour with the man they sent me. I said to him, ‘My
+dear sir, you may either take it or leave it. Let us start from this
+point: I can do without you and you cannot do without me. If you don’t
+buy my flour, somebody else will. I am not at all troubled about it.
+But as to having any one here who would be as much master as myself, or
+perhaps more, never! I am too old to change my customs.’ Thereupon
+the Financial Secretary left. There! And, besides, they change their
+Ministry every fortnight. One would never know with whom one had to
+deal. Thank you, no.”
+
+While talking thus with Marechal, Madame Desvarennes was walking about
+the office. She was still the same woman with the broad prominent
+forehead. Her hair, which she wore in smooth plaits, had become gray,
+but the sparkle of her dark eyes only seemed the brighter from this. She
+had preserved her splendid teeth, and her smile had remained young and
+charming. She spoke with animation, as usual, and with the gestures of
+a man. She placed herself before her secretary, seeming to appeal to
+him as a witness of her being in the right. During the hour with
+the official personage she had been obliged to contain herself. She
+unburdened herself to Marechal, saying just what she thought.
+
+But all at once she perceived Savinien, who was waiting to show himself
+now that she had finished. The mistress turned sharply to the young man,
+and frowned slightly:
+
+“Hallo! you are there, eh? How is it that you could leave your fair
+friends?”
+
+“But, aunt, I came to pay you my respects.”
+
+“No nonsense now; I’ve no time,” interrupted the mistress. “What do you
+want?”
+
+Savinien, disconcerted by this rude reception, blinked his eyes, as
+if seeking some form to give his request; then, making up his mind, he
+said:
+
+“I came to see you on business.”
+
+“You on business?” replied Madame Desvarennes, with a shade of
+astonishment and irony.
+
+“Yes, aunt, on business,” declared Savinien, looking down as if he
+expected a rebuff.
+
+“Oh, oh, oh!” said Madame Desvarennes, “you know our agreement; I give
+you an allowance--”
+
+“I renounce my income,” interrupted Savinien, quickly, “I wish to take
+back my independence. The transfer I made has already cost me too dear.
+It’s a fool’s bargain. The enterprise which I am going to launch is
+superb, and must realize immense profits. I shall certainly not abandon
+it.”
+
+While speaking, Savinien had become animated and had regained his
+self-possession. He believed in his scheme, and was ready to pledge his
+future. He argued that his aunt could not blame him for giving proof of
+his energy and daring, and he discoursed in bombastic style.
+
+“That’s enough!” cried Madame Desvarennes, interrupting her nephew’s
+oration. “I am very fond of mills, but not word-mills. You are talking
+too much about it to be sincere. So many words can only serve
+to disguise the nullity of your projects. You want to embark in
+speculation? With what money?”
+
+“I contribute the scheme and some capitalists will advance the money to
+start with; we shall then issue shares!”
+
+“Never in this life! I oppose it. You! With a responsibility. You!
+Directing an undertaking. You would only commit absurdities. In fact,
+you want to sell an idea, eh? Well, I will buy it.”
+
+“It is not only the money I want,” said Savinien, with an indignant
+air, “it is confidence in my ideas, it is enthusiasm on the part of my
+shareholders, it is success. You don’t believe in my ideas, aunt!”
+
+“What does it matter to you, if I buy them from you? It seems to me a
+pretty good proof of confidence. Is that settled?”
+
+“Ah, aunt, you are implacable!” groaned Savinien. “When you have laid
+your hand upon any one, it is all over. Adieu, independence; one must
+obey you. Nevertheless, it was a vast and beautiful conception.”
+
+“Very well. Marechal, see that my nephew has ten thousand francs. And
+you, Savinien, remember that I see no more of you.”
+
+“Until the money is spent!” murmured Marechal, in the ear of Madame
+Desvarennes’s nephew.
+
+And taking him by the arm he was leading him toward the safe when the
+mistress turned to Savinien and said:
+
+“By the way, what is your invention?”
+
+“Aunt, it is a threshing machine,” answered the young man, gravely.
+
+“Rather a machine for coining money,” said the incorrigible Marechal, in
+an undertone.
+
+“Well; bring me your plans,” resumed Madame Desvarennes, after having
+reflected a moment. “Perchance you may have hit upon something.”
+
+The mistress had been generous, and now the woman of business reasserted
+herself and she thought of reaping the benefit.
+
+Savinien seemed very confused at this demand, and as his aunt gave him
+an interrogative look, he confessed:
+
+“There are no drawings made as yet.”
+
+“No drawings as yet?” cried the mistress. “Where then is your
+invention?”
+
+“It is here,” replied Savinien, and with an inspired gesture he struck
+his narrow forehead.
+
+Madame Desvarennes and Marechal could not resist breaking out into a
+laugh.
+
+“And you were already talking of issuing shares?” said the mistress.
+“Do you think people would have paid their money with your brain as sole
+guarantee? You! Get along; I am the only one to make bargains like that,
+and you are the only one with whom I make them. Go, Marechal, give him
+his money; I won’t gainsay it. But you are a trickster, as usual!”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III. PIERRE RETURNS
+
+By a wave of her hand she dismissed Savinien, who, abashed, went out
+with Marechal. Left alone, she seated herself at her secretary’s desk,
+and taking the pile of letters she signed them. The pen flew in her
+fingers, and on the paper was displayed her name, written in large
+letters in a man’s handwriting.
+
+She had been occupied thus for about a quarter of an hour when Marechal
+reappeared. Behind him came a stout thickset man of heavy build, and
+gorgeously dressed. His face, surrounded by a bristly dark brown beard,
+and his eyes overhung by bushy eyebrows, gave him, at the first glance,
+a harsh appearance. But his mouth promptly banished this impression. His
+thick and sensual lips betrayed voluptuous tastes. A disciple of Lavater
+or Gall would have found the bump of amativeness largely developed.
+
+Marechal stepped aside to allow him to pass.
+
+“Good-morning, mistress,” said he familiarly, approaching Madame
+Desvarennes.
+
+The mistress raised her head quickly, and said:
+
+“Ah! it’s you, Cayrol! That’s capital! I was just going to send for
+you.”
+
+Jean Cayrol, a native of Cantal, had been brought up amid the wild
+mountains of Auvergne. His father was a small farmer in the neighborhood
+of Saint-Flour, scraping a miserable pittance from the ground for the
+maintenance of his family. From the age of eight years Cayrol had been a
+shepherd-boy. Alone in the quiet and remote country, the child had given
+way to ambitious dreams. He was very intelligent, and felt that he was
+born to another sphere than that of farming.
+
+Thus, at the first opportunity which had occurred to take him into a
+town, he was found ready. He went as servant to a banker at Brioude.
+There, in the service of this comparatively luxurious house, he got
+smoothed down a little, and lost some of his clumsy loutishness. Strong
+as an ox, he did the work of two men, and at night, when in his garret,
+fell asleep learning to read. He was seized by the ambition to get on.
+No pains were to be spared to gain his goal.
+
+His master having been elected a member of the Chamber of Deputies,
+Cayrol accompanied him to Paris. Life in the capital finished the
+turmoil of Cayrol’s brain. Seeing the prodigious activity of the great
+city on whose pavements fortunes sprang up in a day like mushrooms, the
+Auvergnat felt his moral strength equal to the occasion, and leaving his
+master, he became clerk to a merchant in the Rue du Sentier.
+
+There, for four years, he studied commerce, and gained much experience.
+He soon learned that it was only in financial transactions that large
+fortunes were to be rapidly made. He left the Rue du Sentier, and found
+a place at a stock-broker’s. His keen scent for speculation served him
+admirably. After the lapse of a few years he had charge of the business.
+His position was getting better; he was making fifteen thousand francs
+per annum, but that was nothing compared to his dreams. He was then
+twenty-eight years of age. He felt ready to do anything to succeed,
+except something unhandsome, for this lover of money would have died
+rather than enrich himself by dishonest means.
+
+It was at this time that his lucky star threw him in Madame
+Desvarennes’s way. The mistress, understanding men, guessed Cayrol’s
+worth quickly. She was seeking a banker who would devote himself to her
+interests. She watched the young man narrowly for some time; then, sure
+she was not mistaken as to his capacity, she bluntly proposed to give
+him money to start a business. Cayrol, who had already saved eighty
+thousand francs, received twelve hundred thousand from Madame
+Desvarennes, and settled in the Rue Taitbout, two steps from the house
+of Rothschild.
+
+Madame Desvarennes had made a lucky hit in choosing Cayrol as her
+confidential agent. This short, thickset Auvergnat was a master of
+finance, and in a few years had raised the house to an unexpected
+degree of prosperity. Madame Desvarennes had drawn considerable sums
+as interest on the money lent, and the banker’s fortune was already
+estimated at several millions. Was it the happy influence of Madame
+Desvarennes that changed everything she touched into gold, or were
+Cayrol’s capacities really extraordinary? The results were there and
+that was sufficient. They did not trouble themselves over and above
+that.
+
+The banker had naturally become one of the intimates of Madame
+Desvarennes’s house. For a long time he saw Jeanne without particularly
+noticing her. This young girl had not struck his fancy. It was one night
+at a ball, on seeing her dancing with Prince Panine, that he perceived
+that she was marvellously engaging. His eyes were attracted by an
+invincible power and followed her graceful figure whirling through the
+waltz. He secretly envied the brilliant cavalier who was holding this
+adorable creature in his arms, who was bending over her bare shoulders,
+and whose breath lightly touched her hair. He longed madly for Jeanne,
+and from that moment thought only of her.
+
+The Prince was then very friendly with Mademoiselle de Cernay; he
+overwhelmed her with kind attentions. Cayrol watched him to see if he
+spoke to her of love, but Panine was a past master in these drawing-room
+skirmishes, and the banker got nothing for his pains. That Cayrol
+was tenacious has been proved. He became intimate with the Prince. He
+tendered him such little services as create intimacy, and when he was
+sure of not being repulsed with haughtiness, he questioned Serge. Did he
+love Mademoiselle de Cernay? This question, asked in a trembling voice
+and with a constrained smile, found the Prince quite calm. He answered
+lightly that Mademoiselle de Cernay was a very agreeable partner, but
+that he had never dreamed of offering her his homage. He had other
+projects in his head. Cayrol pressed the Prince’s hand violently, made a
+thousand protestations of devotedness, and finally obtained his complete
+confidence.
+
+Serge loved Mademoiselle Desvarennes, and it was to become intimate
+with her that he had so eagerly sought her friend’s company. Cayrol, in
+learning the Prince’s secret, resumed his usual reserved manner. He knew
+that Micheline was engaged to Pierre Delarue, but still, women were so
+whimsical! Who could tell? Perhaps Mademoiselle Desvarennes had looked
+favorably upon the handsome Serge.
+
+He was really admirable to view, this Panine, with his blue eyes, pure
+as a maiden’s, and his long fair mustache falling on each side of his
+rosy mouth. He had a truly royal bearing, and was descended from an
+ancient aristocratic race; he had a charming hand and an arched foot,
+enough to make a woman envious. Soft and insinuating with his tender
+voice and sweet Sclavonic accent, he was no ordinary man, but one
+usually creating a great impression wherever he went.
+
+His story was well known in Paris. He was born in the province of Posen,
+so violently seized on by Prussia, that octopus of Europe. Serge’s
+father had been killed during the insurrection of 1848, and he, when a
+year old, was brought by his uncle, Thaddeus Panine, to France, and
+was educated at the College Rollin, where he had not acquired over much
+learning.
+
+In 1866, at the moment when war broke out between Prussia and Austria,
+Serge was eighteen years old. By his uncle’s orders he had left
+Paris, and had entered himself for the campaign in an Austrian cavalry
+regiment. All who bore the name of Panine, and had strength to hold a
+sword or carry a gun, had risen to fight the oppressor of Poland. Serge,
+during this short and bloody struggle, showed prodigies of valor. On the
+night of Sadowa, out of seven bearing the name of Panine, who had
+served against Prussia, five were dead, one was wounded; Serge alone
+was untouched, though red with the blood of his uncle Thaddeus, who was
+killed by the bursting of a shell. All these Panines, living or dead,
+had gained honors. When they were spoken of before Austrians or Poles,
+they were called heroes.
+
+Such a man was a dangerous companion for a young, simple, and
+artless girl like Micheline. His adventures were bound to please her
+imagination, and his beauty sure to charm her eyes. Cayrol was a prudent
+man; he watched, and it was not long before he perceived that Micheline
+treated the Prince with marked favor. The quiet young girl became
+animated when Serge was there. Was there love in this transformation?
+Cayrol did not hesitate. He guessed at once that the future would be
+Panine’s, and that the maintenance of his own influence in the house
+of Desvarennes depended on the attitude which he was about to take.
+He passed over to the side of the newcomer with arms and baggage, and
+placed himself entirely at his disposal.
+
+It was he who three weeks before, in the name of Panine, had made
+overtures to Madame Desvarennes. The errand had been difficult, and the
+banker had turned his tongue several times in his mouth before speaking.
+Still, Cayrol could overcome all difficulties. He was able to explain
+the object of his mission without Madame flying into a passion. But, the
+explanation over, there was a terrible scene. He witnessed one of the
+most awful bursts of rage that it was possible to expect from a violent
+woman. The mistress treated the friend of the family as one would not
+have dared to treat a petty commercial traveller who came to a private
+house to offer his wares. She showed him the door, and desired him not
+to darken the threshold again.
+
+But if Cayrol was resolute he was equally patient. He listened
+without saying a word to the reproaches of Madame Desvarennes, who
+was exasperated that a candidate should be set up in opposition to the
+son-in-law of her choosing. He did not go, and when Madame Desvarennes
+was a little calmed by the letting out of her indignation, he argued
+with her. The mistress was too hasty about the business; it was no use
+deciding without reflecting. Certainly, nobody esteemed Pierre Delarue
+more than he did; but it was necessary to know whether Micheline loved
+him. A childish affection was not love, and Prince Panine thought he
+might hope that Mademoiselle Desvarennes----
+
+The mistress did not allow Cayrol to finish his sentence; she rang the
+bell and asked for her daughter. This time, Cayrol prudently took the
+opportunity of disappearing. He had opened fire; it was for Micheline
+to decide the result of the battle. The banker awaited the issue of the
+interview between mother and daughter in the next room. Through the door
+he heard the irritated tones of Madame Desvarennes, to which Micheline
+answered softly and slowly. The mother threatened and stormed. Coldly
+and quietly the daughter received the attack. The tussle lasted about an
+hour, when the door reopened and Madame Desvarennes appeared, pale and
+still trembling, but calmed. Micheline, wiping her beautiful eyes, still
+wet with tears, regained her apartment.
+
+“Well,” said Cayrol timidly, seeing the mistress standing silent and
+absorbed before him; “I see with pleasure that you are less agitated.
+Did Mademoiselle Micheline give you good reasons?”
+
+“Good reasons!” cried Madame Desvarennes with a violent gesture, last
+flash of the late storm. “She cried, that’s all. And you know when she
+cries I no longer know what I do or say! She breaks my heart with her
+tears. And she knows it. Ah! it is a great misfortune to love children
+too much!”
+
+This energetic woman was conquered, and yet understood that she was
+wrong to allow herself to be conquered. She fell into a deep reverie,
+and forgot that Cayrol was present. She thought of the future which she
+had planned for Micheline, and which the latter carelessly destroyed in
+an instant.
+
+Pierre, now an orphan, would have been a real son to the mistress. He
+would have lived in her house, and have surrounded her old age with care
+and affection. And then, he was so full of ability that he could not
+help attaining a brilliant position. She would have helped him, and
+would have rejoiced in his success. And all this scaffolding was
+overturned because this Panine had crossed Micheline’s path. A foreign
+adventurer, prince perhaps, but who could tell? Lies are easily told
+when the proofs of the lie have to be sought beyond the frontiers. And
+it was her daughter who was going to fall in love with an insipid fop
+who only coveted her millions. That she should see such a man enter her
+family, steal Micheline’s love from her, and rummage her strongbox! In
+a moment she vowed mortal hatred against Panine, and resolved to do all
+she could to prevent the longed-for marriage with her daughter.
+
+She was disturbed in her meditation by Cayrol’s voice. He wished to take
+an answer to the Prince. What must he say to him?
+
+“You will let him know,” said Madame Desvarennes, “that he must refrain
+from seeking opportunities of meeting my daughter. If he be a gentleman,
+he will understand that his presence, even in Paris, is disagreeable to
+me. I ask him to go away for three weeks. After that time he may come
+back, and I agree to give him an answer.”
+
+“You promise me that you will not be vexed with me for having undertaken
+this errand?”
+
+“I promise on one condition. It is, that not a word which has passed
+here this morning shall be repeated to any one. Nobody must suspect the
+proposal that you have just made to me.”
+
+Cayrol swore to hold his tongue, and he kept his word. Prince Panine
+left that same night for England.
+
+Madame Desvarennes was a woman of quick resolution. She took a sheet
+of paper, a pen, and in her large handwriting wrote the following lines
+addressed to Pierre:
+
+“If you do not wish to find Micheline married on your return, come back
+without a moment’s delay.”
+
+She sent this ominous letter to the young man, who was then in Tripoli.
+That done, she returned to her business as if nothing had happened. Her
+placid face did not once betray the anguish of her heart during those
+three weeks.
+
+The term fixed by Madame Desvarennes with the Prince had expired that
+morning. And the severity with which the mistress had received the
+Minister of War’s Financial Secretary was a symptom of the agitation in
+which the necessity of coming to a decision placed Micheline’s mother.
+Every morning for the last week she had expected Pierre to arrive. What
+with having to give an answer to the Prince as she had promised, and the
+longing to see him whom she loved as a son, she felt sick at heart and
+utterly cast down. She thought of asking the Prince for a respite. It
+was for that reason she was glad to see Cayrol.
+
+The latter, therefore, had arrived opportunely. He looked as if he
+brought startling news. By a glance he drew Madame Desvarennes’s
+attention to Marechal and seemed to say:
+
+“I must be alone with you; send him away.”
+
+The mistress understood, and with a decided gesture said:
+
+“You can speak before Marechal; he knows all my affairs as well as I do
+myself.”
+
+“Even the matter that brings me here?” replied Cayrol, with surprise.
+
+“Even that. It was necessary for me to have some one to whom I could
+speak, or else my heart would have burst! Come, do your errand. The
+Prince?”
+
+“A lot it has to do with the Prince,” exclaimed Cayrol, in a huff.
+“Pierre has arrived!”
+
+Madame Desvarennes rose abruptly. A rush of blood rose to her face, her
+eyes brightened, and her lips opened with a smile.
+
+“At last!” she cried. “But where is he? How did you hear of his return?”
+
+“Ah! faith, it was just by chance. I was shooting yesterday at
+Fontainebleau, and I returned this morning by the express. On arriving
+at Paris, I alighted on the platform, and there I found myself face
+to face with a tall young man with a long beard, who, seeing me pass,
+called out, ‘Ah, Cayrol!’ It was Pierre. I only recognized him by his
+voice. He is much changed; with his beard, and his complexion bronzed
+like an African.”
+
+“What did he say to you?”
+
+“Nothing. He pressed my hand. He looked at me for a moment with
+glistening eyes. There was something on his lips which he longed to ask,
+yet did not; but I guessed it. I was afraid of giving way to tenderness,
+that might have ended in my saying something foolish, so I left him.”
+
+“How long ago is that?”
+
+“About an hour ago. I only just ran home before coming on here. There
+I found Panine waiting for me. He insisted upon accompanying me. I hope
+you won’t blame him?”
+
+Madame Desvarennes frowned.
+
+“I will not see him just now,” she said, looking at Cayrol with a
+resolute air. “Where did you leave him?”
+
+“In the garden, where I found the young ladies.”
+
+As if to verify the banker’s words, a merry peal of laughter was heard
+through the half-open window. It was Micheline, who, with returning
+gayety, was making up for the three weeks’ sadness she had experienced
+during Panine’s absence.
+
+Madame Desvarennes went to the window, and looked into the garden.
+Seated on the lawn, in large bamboo chairs, the young girls were
+listening to a story the Prince was telling. The morning was bright and
+mild; the sun shining through Micheline’s silk sunshade lit up her fair
+head. Before her, Serge, bending his tall figure, was speaking with
+animation. Micheline’s eyes were softly fixed on him. Reclining in her
+armchair, she allowed herself to be carried away with his conversation,
+and thoroughly enjoyed his society, of which she had been deprived for
+the last three weeks. Beside her, Jeanne, silently watching the Prince,
+was mechanically nibbling, with her white teeth, a bunch of carnations
+which she held in her hands. A painful thought contracted Mademoiselle
+de Cernay’s brow, and her pale lips on the red flowers seemed to be
+drinking blood.
+
+The mistress slowly turned away from this scene. A shadow had
+crossed her brow, which had, for a moment, become serene again at the
+announcement of Pierre’s arrival. She remained silent for a little
+while, as if considering; then coming to a resolution, and turning to
+Cayrol, she said:
+
+“Where is Pierre staying?”
+
+“At the Hotel du Louvre,” replied the banker.
+
+“Well, I’m going there.”
+
+Madame Desvarennes rang the bell violently.
+
+“My bonnet, my cloak, and the carriage,” she said, and with a friendly
+nod to the two men, she went out quickly.
+
+Micheline was still laughing in the garden. Marechal and Cayrol looked
+at each other. Cayrol was the first to speak.
+
+“The mistress told you all about the matter then? How is it you never
+spoke to me about it?”
+
+“Should I have been worthy of Madame Desvarennes’s confidence had I
+spoken of what she wished to keep secret?”
+
+“To me?”
+
+“Especially to you. The attitude which you have taken forbade my
+speaking. You favor Prince Panine?”
+
+“And you; you are on Pierre Delarue’s side?”
+
+“I take no side. I am only a subordinate, you know; I do not count.”
+
+“Do not attempt to deceive me. Your influence over the mistress is
+great. The confidence she has in you is a conclusive proof. Important
+events are about to take place here. Pierre has certainly returned to
+claim his right as betrothed, and Mademoiselle Micheline loves Prince
+Serge. Out of this a serious conflict will take place in the house.
+There will be a battle. And as the parties in question are about equal
+in strength, I am seeking adherents for my candidate. I own, in all
+humility, I am on love’s side. The Prince is beloved by Mademoiselle
+Desvarennes, and I serve him. Micheline will be grateful, and will do me
+a turn with Mademoiselle de Cernay. As to you, let me give you a little
+advice. If Madame Desvarennes consults you, speak well of Panine. When
+the Prince is master here, your position will be all the better for it.”
+
+Marechal had listened to Cayrol without anything betraying the
+impression his words created. He looked at the banker in a peculiar
+manner, which caused him to feel uncomfortable, and made him lower his
+eyes.
+
+“Perhaps you do not know, Monsieur Cayrol,” said the secretary, after a
+moment’s pause, “how I entered this firm. It is as well in that case
+to inform you. Four years ago, I was most wretched. After having sought
+fortune ten times without success, I felt myself giving way morally and
+physically. There are some beings gifted with energy, who can surmount
+all the difficulties of life. You are one of those. As for me, the
+struggle exhausted my strength, and I came to grief. It would take too
+long to enumerate all the ways of earning my living I tried. Few even
+fed me; and I was thinking of putting an end to my miserable existence
+when I met Pierre. We had been at college together. I went toward him;
+he was on the quay. I dared to stop him. At first he did not recognize
+me, I was so haggard, so wretched-looking! But when I spoke, he cried,
+‘Marechal!’ and, without blushing at my tatters, put his arms round my
+neck. We were opposite the Belle Jardiniere, the clothiers; he wanted to
+rig me out. I remember as if it were but yesterday I said, ‘No, nothing,
+only find me work!’--‘Work, my poor fellow,’ he answered, ‘but just look
+at yourself; who would have confidence to give you any? You look like
+a tramp, and when you accosted me a little while ago, I asked myself if
+you were not about to steal my watch!’ And he laughed gayly, happy
+at having found me again, and thinking that he might be of use to me.
+Seeing that I would not go into the shop, he took off his overcoat, and
+put it on my back to cover my tattered clothes, and there and then he
+took me to Madame Desvarennes. Two days later I entered the office. You
+see the position I hold, and I owe it to Pierre. He has been more than a
+friend to me--a brother. Come! after that, tell me what you would think
+of me if I did what you have just asked me?”
+
+Cayrol was confused; he twisted his bristly beard with his fingers.
+
+“Faith, I do not say that your scruples are not right; but, between
+ourselves, every step that is taken against the Prince will count for
+naught. He will marry Mademoiselle Desvarennes.”
+
+“It is possible. In that case, I shall be here to console Pierre and
+sympathize with him.”
+
+“And in the mean time you are going to do all you can in his favor?”
+
+“I have already had the honor of telling you that I cannot do anything.”
+
+“Well, well. One knows what talking means, and you will not change my
+idea of your importance. You take the weaker side then; that’s superb!”
+
+“It is but strictly honest,” said Marechal. “It is true that that
+quality has become very rare!”
+
+Cayrol wheeled round on his heels. He took a few steps toward the door,
+then, returning to Marechal, held out his hand:
+
+“Without a grudge, eh?”
+
+The secretary allowed his hand to be shaken without answering, and the
+banker went out, saying to himself:
+
+“He is without a sou and has prejudices! There’s a lad without a
+future.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV. THE RIVALS
+
+On reaching Paris, Pierre Delarue experienced a strange feeling. In his
+feverish haste he longed for the swiftness of electricity to bring him
+near Micheline. As soon as he arrived in Paris, he regretted having
+travelled so fast. He longed to meet his betrothed, yet feared to know
+his fate.
+
+He had a sort of presentiment that his reception would destroy his
+hopes. And the more he tried to banish these thoughts, the more forcibly
+they returned. The thought that Micheline had forgotten her promise made
+the blood rush to his face.
+
+Madame Desvarennes’s short letter suggested it. That his betrothed
+was lost to him he understood, but he would not admit it. How was it
+possible that Micheline should forget him? All his childhood passed
+before his mind. He remembered the sweet and artless evidences of
+affection which the young girl had given him. And yet she no longer
+loved him! It was her own mother who said so. After that could he still
+hope?
+
+A prey to this deep trouble, Pierre entered Paris. On finding himself
+face to face with Cayrol, the young man’s first idea was, as Cayrol had
+guessed, to cry out, “What’s going on? Is all lost to me?” A sort of
+anxious modesty kept back the words on his lips. He would not admit that
+he doubted. And, then, Cayrol would only have needed to answer that
+all was over, and that he could put on mourning for his love. He turned
+around, and went out.
+
+The tumult of Paris surprised and stunned him. After spending a year
+in the peaceful solitudes of Africa, to find himself amid the cries of
+street-sellers, the rolling of carriages, and the incessant movement of
+the great city, was too great a contrast to him. Pierre was overcome
+by languor; his head seemed too heavy for his body to carry; he
+mechanically entered a cab which conveyed him to the Hotel du Louvre.
+Through the window, against the glass of which he tried to cool his
+heated forehead, he saw pass in procession before his eyes, the Column
+of July, the church of St. Paul, the Hotel de Ville in ruins, and the
+colonnade of the Louvre.
+
+An absurd idea took possession of him. He remembered that during the
+Commune he was nearly killed in the Rue Saint-Antoine by the explosion
+of a shell, thrown by the insurgents from the heights of Pere-Lachaise.
+He thought that had he died then, Micheline would have wept for him.
+Then, as in a nightmare, it seemed to him that this hypothesis was
+realized. He saw the church hung with black, he heard the funeral
+chants. A catafalque contained his coffin, and slowly his betrothed
+came, with a trembling hand, to throw holy water on the cloth which
+covered the bier. And a voice said within him:
+
+“You are dead, since Micheline is about to marry another.”
+
+He made an effort to banish this importunate idea. He could not succeed.
+Thoughts flew through his brain with fearful rapidity. He thought he was
+beginning to be seized with brain fever. And this dismal ceremony kept
+coming before him with the same chants, the same words repeated, and the
+same faces appearing. The houses seemed to fly before his vacant eyes.
+To stop this nightmare he tried to count the gas-lamps: one, two, three,
+four, five--but the same thought interrupted his calculation:
+
+“You are dead, since your betrothed is about to marry another.”
+
+He was afraid he was going mad. A sharp pain shot across his forehead
+just above the right eyebrow. In the old days he had felt the same pain
+when he had overworked himself in preparing for his examinations at the
+Polytechnic School. With a bitter smile he asked himself if one of the
+aching vessels in his brain was about to burst?
+
+The sudden stoppage of the cab freed him from this torture. The hotel
+porter opened the door. Pierre stepped out mechanically. Without
+speaking a word he followed a waiter, who showed him to a room on the
+second floor. Left alone, he sat down. This room, with its commonplace
+furniture, chilled him. He saw in it a type of his future life: lonely
+and desolate. Formerly, when he used to come to Paris, he stayed with
+Madame Desvarennes, where he had the comforts of home, and every one
+looked on him affectionately.
+
+Here, at the hotel, orders were obeyed with politeness at so much a day.
+Would it always be thus in future?
+
+This painful impression dissipated his weakness as by enchantment. He so
+bitterly regretted the sweets of the past, that he resolved to struggle
+to secure them for the future. He dressed himself quickly, and removed
+all the traces of his journey; then, his mind made up, he jumped into a
+cab, and drove to Madame Desvarennes’s. All indecision had left him. His
+fears now seemed contemptible. He must defend himself. It was a question
+of his happiness.
+
+At the Place de la Concorde a carriage passed his cab. He recognized the
+livery of Madame Desvarennes’s coachman and leant forward. The mistress
+did not see him. He was about to stop the cab and tell his driver to
+follow her carriage when a sudden thought decided him to go on. It was
+Micheline he wanted to see. His future destiny depended on her. Madame
+Desvarennes had made him clearly understand that by calling for his help
+in her fatal letter. He went on his way, and in a few minutes arrived at
+the mansion in the Rue Saint-Dominique.
+
+Micheline and Jeanne were still in the garden, seated in the same place
+on the lawn. Cayrol had joined Serge. Both, profiting by the lovely
+morning, were enjoying the society of their beloved ones. A quick step
+on the gravel walk attracted their attention. In the sunlight a young
+man, whom neither Jeanne nor Micheline recognized, was advancing. When
+about two yards distant from the group he slowly raised his hat.
+
+Seeing the constrained and astonished manner of the young girls, a sad
+smile played on his lips, then he said, softly:
+
+“Am I then so changed that I must tell you my name?”
+
+At these words Micheline jumped up, she became as white as her collar,
+and trembling, with sobs rising to her lips, stood silent and petrified
+before Pierre. She could not speak, but her eyes were eagerly fixed on
+the young man. It was he, the companion of her youth, so changed that
+she had not recognized him; worn by hard work, perhaps by anxieties,
+bronzed--and with his face hidden by a black beard which gave him a
+manly and energetic appearance. It was certainly he, with a thin red
+ribbon at his button-hole, which he had not when he went away, and which
+showed the importance of the works he had executed and of great perils
+he had faced. Pierre, trembling and motionless, was silent; the sound of
+his voice choked with emotion had frightened him. He had expected a cold
+reception, but this scared look, which resembled terror, was beyond all
+he had pictured. Serge wondered and watched.
+
+Jeanne broke the icy silence. She went up to Pierre, and presented her
+forehead.
+
+“Well,” she said, “don’t you kiss your friends?”
+
+She smiled affectionately on him. Two grateful tears sparkled in the
+young man’s eyes, and fell on Mademoiselle de Cernay’s hair. Micheline,
+led away by the example and without quite knowing what she was doing,
+found herself in Pierre’s arms. The situation was becoming singularly
+perplexing to Serge. Cayrol, who had not lost his presence of mind,
+understood it, and turning toward the Prince, said:
+
+“Monsieur Pierre Delarue: an old friend and companion of Mademoiselle
+Desvarennes’s; almost a brother to her,” thus explaining in one word all
+that could appear unusual in such a scene of tenderness.
+
+Then, addressing Pierre, he simply added--“Prince Panine.”
+
+The two men looked at each other. Serge, with haughty curiosity; Pierre,
+with inexpressible rage. In a moment, he guessed that the tall, handsome
+man beside his betrothed was his rival. If looks could kill, the Prince
+would have fallen down dead. Panine did not deign to notice the hatred
+which glistened in the eyes of the newcomer. He turned toward Micheline
+with exquisite grace and said:
+
+“Your mother receives her friends this evening, I think, Mademoiselle; I
+shall have the honor of paying my respects to her.”
+
+And taking leave of Jeanne with a smile, and of Pierre with a courteous
+bow, he left, accompanied by Cayrol.
+
+Serge’s departure was a relief to Micheline. Between these two men to
+whom she belonged, to the one by a promise, to the other by an
+avowal, she felt ashamed. Left alone with Pierre she recovered her
+self-possession, and felt full of pity for the poor fellow threatened
+with such cruel deception. She went tenderly to him, with her loving
+eyes of old, and pressed his hand:
+
+“I am very glad to see you again, my dear Pierre; and my mother will be
+delighted. We were very anxious about you. You have not written to us
+for some months.”
+
+Pierre tried to joke: “The post does not leave very often in the desert.
+I wrote whenever I had an opportunity.”
+
+“Is it so very pleasant in Africa that you could not tear yourself away
+a whole year?”
+
+“I had to take another journey on the coast of Tripoli to finish my
+labors. I was interested in my work, and anxious not to lose the result
+of so much effort, and I think I have succeeded--at least in--the
+opinion of my employers,” said the young man, with a ghastly smile.
+
+“My dear Pierre, you come in time from the land of the sphinx,”
+ interrupted Jeanne gravely, and glancing intently at Micheline. “There
+is here, I assure you, a difficult enigma to solve.”
+
+“What is it?”
+
+“That which is written in this heart,” she replied, lightly touching her
+companion’s breast.
+
+“From childhood I have always read it as easily as a book,” said Pierre,
+with tremulous voice, turning toward the amazed Micheline.
+
+Mademoiselle de Cernay tossed her head.
+
+“Who knows? Perhaps her disposition has changed during your absence;”
+ and nodding pleasantly, she went toward the house.
+
+Pierre followed her for a moment with his eyes, then, turning toward his
+betrothed, said:
+
+“Micheline, shall I tell you your secret? You no longer love me.”
+
+The young girl started. The attack was direct. She must at once give
+an explanation. She had often thought of what she would say when Pierre
+came back to her. The day had arrived unexpectedly. And the answers she
+had prepared had fled. The truth appeared harsh and cold. She understood
+that the change in her was treachery, of which Pierre was the innocent
+victim; and feeling herself to blame, she waited tremblingly the
+explosion of this loyal heart so cruelly wounded. She stammered, in
+tremulous accents:
+
+“Pierre, my friend, my brother.”
+
+“Your brother!” cried the young man, bitterly. “Was that the name you
+were to give me on my return?”
+
+At these words, which so completely summed up the situation, Micheline
+remained silent. Still she felt that at all hazards she must defend
+herself. Her mother might come in at any moment. Between Madame
+Desvarennes and her betrothed, what would become of her? The hour was
+decisive. Her strong love for Serge gave her fresh energy.
+
+“Why did you go away?” she asked, with sadness.
+
+Pierre raised with pride his head which had been bent with anguish.
+
+“To be worthy of you,” he merely said.
+
+“You did not need to be worthy of me; you, who were already above every
+one else. We were betrothed; you only had to guard me.”
+
+“Could not your heart guard itself?”
+
+“Without help, without the support of your presence and affection?”
+
+“Without other help or support than I had myself: Hope and Remembrance.”
+
+Micheline turned pale. Each word spoken by Pierre made her feel the
+unworthiness of her conduct more completely. She endeavored to find a
+new excuse:
+
+“Pierre, you know I was only a child.”
+
+“No,” said the young man, with choked voice, “I see that you were
+already a woman; a being weak, inconstant, and cruel; who cares not for
+the love she inspires, and sacrifices all to the love she feels.”
+
+So long as Pierre had only complained, Micheline felt overwhelmed and
+without strength; but the young man began to accuse. In a moment the
+young girl regained her presence of mind and revolted.
+
+“Those are hard words!” she exclaimed.
+
+“Are they not deserved?” cried Pierre, no longer restraining himself.
+“You saw me arrive trembling, with eyes full of tears, and not only had
+you not an affectionate word to greet me with, but you almost accuse me
+of indifference. You reproach me with having gone away. Did you not know
+my motive for going? I was betrothed to you; you were rich and I was
+poor. To remove this inequality I resolved to make a name. I sought one
+of those perilous scientific missions which bring celebrity or death
+to those who undertake them. Ah! think not that I went away from you
+without heart-breaking! For a year I was almost alone, crushed with
+fatigue, always in danger; the thought that I was suffering for you
+supported me.
+
+“When lost in the vast desert, I was sad and discouraged; I invoked you,
+and your sweet face gave me fresh hope and energy. I said to myself,
+‘She is waiting for me. A day will come when I shall win the prize of
+all my trouble.’ Well, Micheline, the day has come; here I am, returned,
+and I ask for my reward. Is it what I had a right to expect? While I was
+running after glory, another, more practical and better advised, stole
+your heart. My happiness is destroyed. You did well to forget me.
+The fool who goes so far away from his betrothed does not deserve her
+faithfulness. He is cold, indifferent, he does not know how to love!”
+
+These vehement utterances troubled Micheline deeply. For the first time
+she understood her betrothed, felt how much he loved her, and regretted
+not having known it before. If Pierre had spoken like that before going
+away, who knows? Micheline’s feelings might have been quickened. No
+doubt she would have loved him. It would have come naturally. But Pierre
+had kept the secret of his passion for the young girl to himself. It was
+only despair, and the thought of losing her, that made him give vent to
+his feelings now.
+
+“I see that I have been cruel and unjust to you,” said Micheline. “I
+deserve your reproaches, but I am not the only one to blame. You, too,
+are at fault. What I have just heard has upset me. I am truly sorry
+to cause you so much pain; but it is too late. I no longer belong to
+myself.”
+
+“And did you belong to yourself?”
+
+“No! It is true, you had my word, but be generous. Do not abuse the
+authority which being my betrothed gives you. That promise I would now
+ask back from you.”
+
+“And if I refuse to release you from your promise? If I tried to, regain
+your love?” cried Pierre, forcibly. “Have I not the right to defend
+myself? And what would you think of my love if I relinquished you so
+readily?”
+
+There was a moment’s silence. The interview was at its highest pitch of
+excitement. Micheline knew that she must put an end to it. She replied
+with firmness:
+
+“A girl such as I am will not break her word; mine belongs to you, but
+my heart is another’s. Say you insist, and I am ready to keep my promise
+to become your wife. It is for you to decide.”
+
+Pierre gave the young girl a look which plunged into the depths of her
+heart. He read there her resolve that she would act loyally, but that at
+the same time she would never forget him who had so irresistibly gained
+her heart. He made a last effort.
+
+“Listen,” he said, with ardent voice, “it is impossible that you can
+have forgotten me so soon: I love you so much! Remember our affection in
+the old days, Micheline. Remember!”
+
+He no longer argued; he pleaded. Micheline felt victorious. She was
+moved with pity.
+
+“Alas! my poor Pierre, my affection was only friendship, and my
+heart has not changed toward you. The love which I now feel is quite
+different. If it had not come to me, I might have been your wife. And
+I esteemed you so much, that I should have been happy. But now I
+understand the difference. You, whom I had accepted, would never have
+been more to me than a tender companion; he whom I have chosen will be
+my master.”
+
+Pierre uttered a cry at this cruel and frank avowal.
+
+“Ah! how you hurt me!”
+
+And bitter tears rolled down his face to the relief of his overburdened
+heart. He sank on to a seat, and for a moment gave way to violent
+grief. Micheline, more touched by his despair than she had been by his
+reproaches, went to him and wiped his face with her lace handkerchief.
+Her white hand was close to the young man’s mouth,--and he kissed it
+eagerly. Then, as if roused by the action, he rose with a changed look
+in his eyes, and seized the young girl in his arms. Micheline did not
+utter a word. She looked coldly and resolutely at Pierre, and threw back
+her head to avoid the contact of his eager lips. That look was enough.
+The arms which held her were unloosed, and Pierre moved away, murmuring:
+
+“I beg your pardon. You see I am not in my right mind.”
+
+Then passing his hand across his forehead as if to chase away a wicked
+thought, he added:
+
+“So it is irrevocable? You love him?”
+
+“Enough to give you so much pain; enough to be nobody’s unless I belong
+to him.”
+
+Pierre reflected a moment, then, coming to a decision:
+
+“Go, you are free,” said he; “I give you back your promise.”
+
+Micheline uttered a cry of triumph, which made him who had been her
+betrothed turn pale. She regretted not having hidden her joy better. She
+approached Pierre and said:
+
+“Tell me that you forgive me!”
+
+“I forgive you.”
+
+“You still weep?”
+
+“Yes; I am weeping over my lost happiness. I thought the best means
+of being loved were to deserve it. I was mistaken. I will courageously
+atone for my error. Excuse my weakness, and believe that you will never
+have a more faithful and devoted friend than I.”
+
+Micheline gave him her hand, and, smiling, bowed her forehead to his
+lips. He slowly impressed a brotherly kiss, which effaced the burning
+trace of the one which he had stolen a moment before.
+
+At the same time a deep voice was heard in the distance, calling Pierre.
+Micheline trembled.
+
+“‘Tis my mother,” she said. “She is seeking you. I will leave you.
+Adieu, and a thousand thanks from my very heart.”
+
+And nimbly springing behind a clump of lilac-trees in flower, Micheline
+disappeared.
+
+Pierre mechanically went toward the house. He ascended the marble steps
+and entered the drawing-room. As he shut the door, Madame Desvarennes
+appeared.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V. A CRITICAL INTERVIEW
+
+Madame Desvarennes had been driven to the Hotel du Louvre without losing
+a minute. She most wanted to know in what state of mind her daughter’s
+betrothed had arrived in Paris. Had the letter, which brutally told
+him the truth, roused him and tightened the springs of his will? Was he
+ready for the struggle?
+
+If she found him confident and bold, she had only to settle with him as
+to the common plan of action which must bring about the eviction of
+the audacious candidate who wished to marry Micheline. If she found him
+discouraged and doubtful of himself, she had decided to animate him with
+her ardor against Serge Panine.
+
+She prepared these arguments on the way, and, boiling with impatience,
+outstripped in thought the fleet horse which was drawing her past the
+long railings of the Tuileries toward the Hotel du Louvre. Wrapped in
+her meditations she did not see Pierre. She was saying to herself:
+
+“This fair-haired Polish dandy does not know with whom he has to deal.
+He will see what sort of a woman I am. He has not risen early enough in
+the morning to hoodwink me. If Pierre is only of the same opinion as I,
+we shall soon spoil this fortune-hunter’s work.”
+
+The carriage stopped.
+
+“Monsieur Pierre Delarue?” inquired the mistress.
+
+“Madame, he went out a quarter of an hour ago.”
+
+“To go where?”
+
+“He did not say.”
+
+“Do you know whether he will be absent long?”
+
+“I don’t know.”
+
+“Much obliged.”
+
+Madame Desvarennes, quite discomfited by this mischance, reflected.
+Where could Pierre have gone? Probably to her house. Without losing a
+minute, she reentered the carriage, and gave orders to return to the Rue
+Saint-Dominique. If he had gone at once to her house, it was plain that
+he was ready to do anything to keep Micheline. The coachman who had
+received the order drove furiously. She said to herself:
+
+“Pierre is in a cab. Allowing that he is driving moderately quick he
+will only have half-an-hour’s start of me. He will pass through the
+office, will see Marechal, and however eager he be, will lose a quarter
+of an hour in chatting to him. It would be most vexing if he did
+anything foolish in the remaining fifteen minutes! The fault is mine: I
+ought to have sent him a letter at Marseilles, to tell him what line of
+conduct to adopt on his arrival. So long as he does not meet Micheline
+on entering the house!”
+
+At that idea Madame Desvarennes felt the blood rushing to her face. She
+put her head out of the carriage window, and called to the coachman:
+
+“Drive faster!”
+
+He drove more furiously still, and in a few minutes reached the Rue
+Saint-Dominique.
+
+She tore into the house like a hurricane, questioned the hall-porter,
+and learned that Delarue had arrived. She hastened to Marechal, and
+asked him in such a strange manner, “Have you seen Pierre?” that he
+thought some accident had happened.
+
+On seeing her secretary’s scared look, she understood that what she
+most dreaded had come to pass. She hurried to the drawing-room, calling
+Pierre in a loud voice. The French window opened, and she found herself
+face to face with the young man. A glance at her adopted son’s face
+increased her fears. She opened her arms and clasped Pierre to her
+heart.
+
+After the first emotions were over, she longed to know what had happened
+during her absence, and inquired of Pierre:
+
+“By whom were you received on arriving here?”
+
+“By Micheline.”
+
+“That is what I feared! What did she tell you?”
+
+“Everything!”
+
+In three sentences these two strong beings had summed up all that had
+taken place. Madame Desvarennes remained silent for a moment, then, with
+sudden tenderness, and as if to make up for her daughter’s treachery,
+said:
+
+“Come, let me kiss you again, my poor boy. You suffer, eh? and I too!
+I am quite overcome. For ten years I have cherished the idea of your
+marrying Micheline. You are a man of merit, and you have no relatives.
+You would not take my daughter away from me; on the contrary I think you
+like me, and would willingly live with me. In arranging this marriage
+I realized the dream of my life. I was not taking a son-in-law-I was
+gaining a new child.”
+
+“Believe me,” said Pierre, sadly, “it is not my fault that your wish is
+not carried out.”
+
+“That, my boy, is another question!” cried Madame Desvarennes, whose
+voice was at once raised two tones. “And that is where we do not agree.
+You are responsible for what has occurred. I know what you are going,
+to tell me. You wished to bring laurels to Micheline as a dower. That
+is all nonsense! When one leaves the Polytechnic School with honors, and
+with a future open to you like yours, it is not necessary to scour
+the deserts to dazzle a young girl. One begins by marrying her, and
+celebrity comes afterward, at the same time as the children. And then
+there was no need to risk all at such a cost. What, are we then so
+grand? Ex-bakers! Millionaires, certainly, which does not alter the
+fact that poor Desvarennes carried out the bread, and that I gave change
+across the counter when folks came to buy sou-cakes! But you wanted
+to be a knight-errant, and, during that time, a handsome fellow. Did
+Micheline tell you the gentleman’s name?”
+
+“I met him when I came here; he was with her in the garden. We were
+introduced to each other.”
+
+“That was good taste,” said Madame Desvarennes with irony. “Oh, he is a
+youth who is not easily disturbed, and in his most passionate transports
+will not disarrange a fold of his cravat. You know he is a Prince? That
+is most flattering to the Desvarennes! We shall use his coat-of-arms as
+our trade-mark. The fortune hunter, ugh! No doubt he said to himself,
+‘The baker has money--and her daughter is agreeable.’ And he is making a
+business of it.”
+
+“He is only following the example of many of his equals. Marriage is
+to-day the sole pursuit of the nobility.”
+
+“The nobility! That of our country might be tolerated, but foreign
+noblemen are mere adventurers.”
+
+“It is well known that the Panines come from Posen--the papers have
+mentioned them more than twenty times.”
+
+“Why is he not in his own country?”
+
+“He is exiled.”
+
+“He has done something wrong, then!”
+
+“He has, like all his family, fought for independence.”
+
+“Then he is a revolutionist!”
+
+“A patriot.”
+
+“You are very kind to tell me all that.”
+
+“I may hate Prince Panine,” said Pierre, simply, “but that is no reason
+why I should not be just to him.”
+
+“So be it; he is an exceptional being, a great citizen, a hero, if you
+like. But that does not prove that he will make my daughter happy. And
+if you take my advice, we shall send him about his business in a very
+short time.”
+
+Madame Desvarennes was excited and paced hurriedly up and down the room.
+The idea of resuming the offensive after she had been forced to act on
+the defensive for months past pleased her. She thought Pierre argued too
+much. A woman of action, she did not understand why Pierre had not yet
+come to a resolution. She felt that she must gain his confidence.
+
+“You are master of the situation,” she said. “The Prince does not suit
+me--”
+
+“Micheline loves him,” interrupted Pierre.
+
+“She fancies so,” replied Madame Desvarennes. “She has got it into her
+head, but it will wear off. You thoroughly understand that I did not bid
+you to come from Africa to be present at my daughter’s wedding. If you
+are a man, we shall see some fun. Micheline is your betrothed. You have
+our word, and the word of a Desvarennes is as good as the signature.--It
+has never been dishonored. Well, refuse to give us back our promise.
+Gain time, make love, and take my daughter away from that dandy.”
+
+Pierre remained silent for a few minutes. In a moment he measured the
+extent of the mischief done, by seeing Micheline before consulting
+Madame Desvarennes. With the help of this energetic woman he might have
+struggled, whereas left to his own strength, he had at the outset been
+vanquished and forced to lay down his arms. Not only had he yielded, but
+he had drawn his ally into his defeat.
+
+“Your encouragements come too late,” said he. “Micheline asked me to
+give her back her promise, and I gave it to her.”
+
+“You were so weak as that!” cried Madame Desvarennes. “And she had so
+much boldness? Does she dote on him so? I suspected her plans, and I
+hastened to warn you. But all is not lost. You have given Micheline
+back her promise. So be it. But I have not given you back yours. You are
+pledged to me. I will not countenance the marriage which my daughter has
+arranged without my consent! Help me to break it off. And, faith, you
+could easily find another woman worth Micheline, but where shall I find
+a son-in-law worth you? Come, the happiness of us all is in peril; save
+it!”
+
+“Why continue the struggle? I am beaten beforehand.”
+
+“But if you forsake me, what can I do single-handed with Micheline?”
+
+“Do what she wishes, as usual. You are surprised at my giving you this
+advice? It is no merit on my part. Until now you have refused your
+daughter’s request; but if she comes again beseeching and crying, you
+who are so strong and can say so well ‘I will,’ will be weak and will
+not be able to refuse her her Prince. Believe me; consent willingly. Who
+knows? Your son’-in-law may be grateful to you for it by-and-by.”
+
+Madame Desvarennes had listened to Pierre with amazement.
+
+“Really, you are incredible,” she said; “you discuss all this so calmly.
+Have you no grief?”
+
+“Yes,” replied Pierre, solemnly, “it is almost killing me.”
+
+“Nonsense! You are boasting!” cried Madame Desvarennes, vehemently. “Ah,
+scholar! figures have dried up your heart!”
+
+“No,” replied the young man, with melancholy, “but work has destroyed in
+me the seductions of youth. It has made me thoughtful, and a little sad.
+I frightened Micheline, instead of attracting her. The worst is that we
+live in such a state of high pressure, it is quite impossible to
+grasp all that is offered to us in this life-work and pleasure. It is
+necessary to make a choice, to economize one’s time and strength, and
+to work with either the heart or the brain alone. The result is that the
+neglected organ wastes away, and that men of pleasure remain all their
+lives mediocre workers, while hard workers are pitiful lovers. The
+former sacrifice the dignity of existence, the latter that which is
+the charm of existence. So that, in decisive moments, when the man of
+pleasure appeals to his intelligence, he finds he is unfit for duty,
+and when the man of toil appeals to his heart, he finds that he is
+unqualified for happiness.”
+
+“Well, my boy, so much the worse for the women who cannot appreciate men
+of work, and who allow themselves to be wheedled by men of pleasure. I
+never was one of those; and serious as you are, thirty years ago I would
+have jumped at you. But as you know your ailment so well, why don’t you
+cure yourself? The remedy is at hand.”
+
+“What is it?”
+
+“Strong will. Marry Micheline. I’ll answer for everything.”
+
+“She does not love me.”
+
+“A woman always ends by loving her husband.”
+
+“I love Micheline too much to accept her hand without her heart.”
+
+Madame Desvarennes saw that she would gain nothing, and that the game
+was irrevocably lost. A great sorrow stole over her. She foresaw a dark
+future, and had a presentiment that trouble had entered the house with
+Serge Panine. What could she do? Combat the infatuation of her daughter!
+She knew that life would be odious for her if Micheline ceased to laugh
+and to sing. Her daughter’s tears would conquer her will. Pierre had
+told her truly. Where was the use of fighting when defeat was certain?
+She, too, felt that she was powerless, and with heartfelt sorrow came to
+a decision.
+
+“Come, I see that I must make up my mind to be grandmother to little
+princes. It pleases me but little on the father’s account. My daughter
+will have a sad lot with a fellow of that kind. Well, he had better keep
+in the right path; for I shall be there to call him to order. Micheline
+must be happy. When my husband was alive, I was already more of a mother
+than a wife; now my whole life is wrapped up in my daughter.”
+
+Then raising her vigorous arms with grim energy, she added:
+
+“Do you know, if my daughter were made miserable through her husband, I
+should be capable of killing him.”
+
+These were the last words of the interview which decided the destiny
+of Micheline, of the Prince, of Madame Desvarennes, and of Pierre. The
+mistress stretched out her hand and rang the bell. A servant appeared,
+to whom she gave instructions to tell Marechal to come down. She thought
+it would be pleasant for Pierre to pour out his griefs into the heart of
+his friend. A man weeps with difficulty before a woman, and she guessed
+that the young man’s heart was swollen with tears. Marechal was not far
+off. He arrived in a moment, and springing toward Pierre put his arms
+round his neck. When Madame Desvarennes saw the two friends fully
+engrossed with each other, she said to Marechal:
+
+“I give you leave until this evening. Then bring Pierre back with you; I
+wish to see him after dinner.”
+
+And with a firm step she went toward Micheline’s room, where the latter
+was waiting in fear to know the result of the interview.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI. A SIGNIFICANT MEETING
+
+The mansion in the Rue Saint-Dominique is certainly one of the finest
+to be seen. Sovereigns alone have more sumptuous palaces. The wide
+staircase, of carved oak, is bordered by a bronze balustrade, made by
+Ghirlandajo, and brought from Florence by Sommervieux, the great dealer
+in curiosities. Baron Rothschild would consent to give only a hundred
+thousand francs for it. Madame Desvarennes bought it. The large panels
+of the staircase are hung with splendid tapestry, from designs by
+Boucher, representing the different metamorphoses of Jupiter. At each
+landing-place stands a massive Japanese vase of ‘claisonne’ enamel,
+supported by a tripod of Chinese bronze, representing chimeras. On the
+first floor, tall columns of red granite, crowned by gilt capitals,
+divide the staircase from a gallery, serving as a conservatory. Plaited
+blinds of crimson silk hang before the Gothic windows, filled with
+marvellous stained glass.
+
+In the vestibule-the hangings of which are of Cordova-leather, with gold
+ground-seemingly awaiting the good pleasure of some grand lady, is a
+sedan-chair, decorated with paintings by Fragonard. Farther on, there
+is one of those superb carved mother-of-pearl coffers, in which Oriental
+women lay by their finery and jewellery. A splendid Venetian mirror, its
+frame embellished with tiny figure subjects, and measuring two metres
+in width and three in height, fills a whole panel of the vestibule.
+Portieres of Chinese satin, ornamented with striking embroidery, such
+as figures on a priest’s chasuble, fall in sumptuous folds at the
+drawing-room and dining-room doors.
+
+The drawing-room contains a splendid set of Louis Quatorze furniture,
+of gilt wood, upholstered in fine tapestry, in an extraordinary state
+of preservation. Three crystal lustres, hanging at intervals along the
+room, sparkle like diamonds. The hangings, of woven silk and gold, are
+those which were sent as a present by Louis Quatorze to Monsieur de
+Pimentel, the Spanish Ambassador, to reward him for the part he had
+taken in the conclusion of the Treaty of the Pyrenees. These
+hangings are unique, and were brought back from Spain in 1814, in the
+baggage-train of Soult’s army, and sold to an inhabitant of Toulouse
+for ten thousand francs. It was there that Madame Desvarennes discovered
+them in a garret in 1864, neglected by the grandchildren of the buyer,
+who were ignorant of the immense value of such unrivalled work. Cleverly
+mended, they are to-day the pride of the great trader’s drawing-room.
+On the mantelpiece there is a large clock in Chinese lacquer, ornamented
+with gilt bronze, made on a model sent out from Paris in the reign of
+Louis Quatorze, and representing the Flight of the Hours pursued by
+Time.
+
+Adjoining the great drawing-room is a boudoir upholstered in light gray
+silk damask, with bouquets of flowers. This is Madame Desvarennes’s
+favorite room. A splendid Erard piano occupies one side of the
+apartment. Facing it is a sideboard in sculptured ebony, enriched with
+bronze, by Gouthieres. There are only two pictures on the walls: “The
+Departure of the Newly Married Couple,” exquisitely painted by Lancret;
+and “The Prediction,” an adorable work by Watteau, bought at an
+incredible price at the Pourtales sale. Over the chimney-piece is a
+miniature by Pommayrac, representing Micheline as a little child--a
+treasure which Madame Desvarennes cannot behold without tears coming to
+her eyes. A door, hidden by curtains, opens on to a staircase leading
+directly to the courtyard.
+
+The dining-room is in the purest Renaissance style austere woodwork;
+immense chests of caned pearwood, on which stand precious ewers in
+Urbino ware, and dishes by Bernard Palissy. The high stone fireplace is
+surmounted by a portrait of Diana of Poitiers, with a crescent on her
+brow, and is furnished with firedogs of elaborately worked iron. The
+centre panel bears the arms of Admiral Bonnivet. Stained-glass windows
+admit a softly-tinted light. From the magnificently painted ceiling,
+a chandelier of brass repousse work hangs from the claws of a hovering
+eagle.
+
+The billiard-room is in the Indian style. Magnificent panoplies unite
+Rajpoot shields, Mahratta scimitars, helmets with curtains of steel,
+rings belonging to Afghan chiefs, and long lances ornamented with white
+mares’ tails, wielded by the horsemen of Cabul. The walls are painted
+from designs brought from Lahore. The panels of the doors were decorated
+by Gerome. The great artist has painted Nautch girls twisting their
+floating scarves, and jugglers throwing poignards into the air. Around
+the room are low divans, covered with soft and brilliant Oriental cloth.
+The chandelier is quite original in form, being the exact representation
+of the god Vishnu. From the centre of the body hangs a lotus leaf of
+emeralds, and from each of the four arms is suspended a lamp shaped like
+a Hindu pagoda, which throws out a mellow light.
+
+Madame Desvarennes was entertaining her visitors in these celebrated
+apartments that evening. Marechal and Pierre had just come in, and were
+talking together near the fireplace. A few steps from them was a group,
+consisting of Cayrol, Madame Desvarennes, and a third person, who had
+never until then put his foot in the house, in spite of intercessions in
+his favor made by the banker to Madame Desvarennes. He was a tall, pale,
+thin man, whose skin seemed stretched on his bones, with a strongly
+developed under-jaw, like that of a ravenous animal, and eyes of
+indefinable color, always changing, and veiled behind golden-rimmed
+spectacles. His hands were soft and smooth, with moist palms and closely
+cut nails--vicious hands, made to take cunningly what they coveted. He
+had scanty hair, of a pale yellow, parted just above the ear, so as to
+enable him to brush it over the top of his head. This personage, clad
+in a double-breasted surtout, over a white waistcoat, and wearing a
+many-colored rosette, was called Hermann Herzog.
+
+A daring financier, he had come from Luxembourg, preceded by a great
+reputation; and, in a few months, he had launched in Paris such a series
+of important affairs that the big-wigs on the Exchange felt bound to
+treat with him. There were many rumors current about him. Some said he
+was the most intelligent, most active, and most scrupulous of men that
+it was possible to meet. Others said that no greater scoundrel had
+ever dared the vengeance of the law, after plundering honest people.
+Of German nationality, those who cried him down said he was born at
+Mayence. Those who treated the rumors as legends said he was born at
+Frankfort, the most Gallic town beyond the river Rhine.
+
+He had just completed an important line of railway from Morocco to the
+centre of our colony in Algeria, and now he was promoting a company for
+exporting grain and flour from America. Several times Cayrol had tried
+to bring Herzog and Madame Desvarennes together. The banker had an
+interest in the grain and flour speculation, but he asserted that it
+would not succeed unless the mistress had a hand in it. Cayrol had a
+blind faith in the mistress’s luck.
+
+Madame Desvarennes, suspicious of everything foreign, and perfectly
+acquainted with the rumors circulated respecting Herzog, had always
+refused to receive him. But Cayrol had been so importunate that, being
+quite tired of refusing, and, besides, being willing to favor Cayrol for
+having so discreetly managed the negotiations of Micheline’s marriage,
+she had consented.
+
+Herzog had just arrived. He was expressing to Madame Desvarennes his
+delight at being admitted to her house. He had so often heard her highly
+spoken of that he had formed a high idea of her, but one which was,
+however, far below the reality; he understood now that it was an honor
+to be acquainted with her. He wheedled her with German grace, and with a
+German-Jewish accent, which reminds one of the itinerant merchants, who
+offer you with persistence “a goot pargain.”
+
+The mistress had been rather cold at first, but Herzog’s amiability had
+thawed her. This man, with his slow speech and queer eyes, produced a
+fascinating effect on one like a serpent. He was repugnant, and yet, in
+spite of one’s self one was led on. He, had at once introduced the grain
+question, but in this he found himself face to face with the real Madame
+Desvarennes; and no politeness held good on her part when it was a
+question of business. From his first words, she had found a weak
+point in the plan, and had attacked him with such plainness that the
+financier, seeing his enterprise collapse at the sound of the mistress’s
+voice-like the walls of Jericho at the sound of the Jewish trumpets--had
+beaten a retreat, and had changed the subject.
+
+He was about to float a credit and discount company superior to any in
+the world. He would come back and talk with Madame Desvarennes about it,
+because she ought to participate in the large profits which the matter
+promised. There was no risk. The novelty of the undertaking consisted
+in the concurrence of the largest banking-houses of France and abroad,
+which would hinder all competition, and prevent hostility on the part
+of the great money-handlers. It was very curious, and Madame Desvarennes
+would feel great satisfaction in knowing the mechanism of this company,
+destined to become, from the first, the most important in the world, and
+yet most easy to understand.
+
+Madame Desvarennes neither said “Yes” nor “No.” Moved by the soft
+and insinuating talkativeness of Herzog, she felt herself treading on
+dangerous ground. It seemed to her that her foot was sinking, as in
+those dangerous peat-mosses of which the surface is covered with green
+grass, tempting one to run on it. Cayrol was under the charm. He drank
+in the German’s words. This clever man, who had never till then been
+duped, had found his master in Herzog.
+
+Pierre and Marechal had come nearer, and Madame Desvarennes, profiting
+by this mingling of groups, introduced the men to each other. On hearing
+the name of Pierre Delarue, Herzog looked thoughtful, and asked if the
+young man was the renowned engineer whose works on the coast of Africa
+had caused so much talk in Europe? On Madame Desvarennes replying in the
+affirmative, he showered well-chosen compliments on Pierre. He had had
+the pleasure of meeting Delarue in Algeria, when he had gone over to
+finish the railroad in Morocco.
+
+But Pierre had stepped back on learning that the constructor of that
+important line was before him.
+
+“Ah! is it you, sir, who carried out that job?” said he. “Faith! you
+treated those poor Moors rather hardly!”
+
+He remembered the misery of the poor natives employed by Europeans who
+superintended the work. Old men, women, and children were placed at the
+disposal of the contractors by the native authorities, to dig up and
+remove the soil; and these poor wretches, crushed with hard work, and
+driven with the lash by drunken overseers--who commanded them with a
+pistol in hand--under a burning sun, inhaled the noxious vapors arising
+from the upturned soil, and died like flies. It was a terrible sight,
+and one that Pierre could not forget.
+
+But Herzog, with his cajoling sweetness, protested against this
+exaggerated picture. Delarue had arrived during the dog-days--a bad
+time. And then, it was necessary for the work to be carried on without
+delay. Besides, a few Moors, more or less--what did it matter? Negroes,
+all but monkeys!
+
+Marechal, who had listened silently until then, interrupted the
+conversation, to defend the monkeys in the name of Littre. He had framed
+a theory, founded on Darwin, and tending to prove that men who despised
+monkeys despised themselves. Herzog, a little taken aback by this
+unexpected reply, had looked at Marechal slyly, asking himself if it
+was a joke. But, seeing Madame Desvarennes laugh, he recovered his
+self-possession. Business could not be carried on in the East as in
+Europe. And then, had it not always been thus? Had not all the great
+discoverers worked the countries which they discovered? Christopher
+Columbus, Cortez--had they not taken riches from the Indians, in
+exchange for the civilization which they brought them? He (Herzog)
+had, in making a railway in Morocco, given the natives the means
+of civilizing themselves. It was only fair that it should cost them
+something.
+
+Herzog uttered his tirade with all the charm of which he was capable; he
+looked to the right and to the left to notice the effect. He saw nothing
+but constrained faces. It seemed as if they were expecting some one
+or something. Time was passing; ten o’clock had just struck. From the
+little boudoir sounds of music were occasionally heard, when Micheline’s
+nervous hand struck a louder chord on her piano. She was there,
+anxiously awaiting some one or something. Jeanne de Cernay, stretched in
+an easy-chair, her head leaning on her hand, was dreaming.
+
+During the past three weeks the young girl had changed. Her bright wit
+no longer enlivened Micheline’s indolent calmness; her brilliant eyes
+were surrounded by blue rings, which denoted nights passed without
+sleep. The change coincided strangely with Prince Panine’s departure for
+England, and the sending of the letter which recalled Pierre to Paris.
+Had the inhabitants of the mansion been less occupied with their own
+troubles, they would no doubt have noticed this sudden change, and have
+sought to know the reason. But the attention of all was concentrated on
+the events which had already troubled them, and which would no doubt be
+yet more serious to the house, until lately so quiet.
+
+The visitors’ bell sounded, and caused Micheline to rise. The blood
+rushed to her cheeks. She whispered, “It is he!” and, hesitating, she
+remained a moment leaning on the piano, listening vaguely to the sounds
+in the drawing-room. The footman’s voice announcing the visitor reached
+the young girls:
+
+“Prince Panine.”
+
+Jeanne also rose then, and if Micheline had turned round she would
+have been frightened at the pallor of her companion. But Mademoiselle
+Desvarennes was not thinking of Mademoiselle de Cernay; she had just
+raised the heavy door curtain, and calling to Jeanne, “Are you coming?”
+ passed into the drawing-room:
+
+It was indeed Prince Serge, who was expected by Cayrol with impatience,
+by Madame Desvarennes with silent irritation, by Pierre with deep
+anguish. The handsome prince, calm and smiling, with white cravat and
+elegantly fitting dress-coat which showed off his fine figure, advanced
+toward Madame Desvarennes before whom he bowed. He seemed only to have
+seen Micheline’s mother. Not a look for the two young girls or the men
+who were around him. The rest of the universe did not seem to count.
+He bent as if before a queen, with a dash of respectful adoration. He
+seemed to be saying:
+
+“Here I am at your feet; my life depends on you; make a sign and I shall
+be the happiest of men or the most miserable.”
+
+Micheline followed him with eyes full of pride; she admired his haughty
+grace and his caressing humility. It was by these contrasts that Serge
+had attracted the young girl’s notice. She felt herself face to face
+with a strange nature, different from men around her, and had become
+interested in him. Then he had spoken to her, and his sweet penetrating
+voice had touched her heart.
+
+What he had achieved with Micheline he longed to achieve with her
+mother. After placing himself at the feet of the mother of her whom he
+loved, he sought the road to her heart. He took his place beside the
+mistress and spoke. He hoped that Madame Desvarennes would excuse the
+haste of his visit. The obedience which he had shown in going away
+must be a proof to her of his submission to her wishes. He was her most
+devoted and respectful servant. He resigned himself to anything she
+might exact of him.
+
+Madame Desvarennes listened to that sweet voice; she had never heard
+it so full of charm. She understood what influence this sweetness had
+exercised over Micheline; she repented not having watched over her more
+carefully, and cursed the hour that had brought all this evil upon them.
+She was obliged, however, to answer him. The mistress went straight to
+the point. She was not one to beat about the bush when once her mind was
+made up.
+
+“You come, no doubt, sir, to receive an answer to the request you
+addressed to me before your departure for England!”
+
+The Prince turned slightly pale. The words which Madame Desvarennes was
+about to pronounce were of such importance to him that he could not help
+feeling moved. He answered, in a suppressed tone:
+
+“I would not have dared to speak to you on the subject, Madame,
+especially in public; but since you anticipate my desire, I admit I am
+waiting with deep anxiety for one word from you which will decide my
+fate.”
+
+He continued bent before Madame Desvarennes like a culprit before his
+judge. The mistress was silent for a moment, as if hesitating before
+answering, and then said, gravely:
+
+“That word I hesitated to pronounce, but some one in whom I have great
+confidence has advised me to receive you favorably.”
+
+“He, Madame, whoever he may be, has gained my everlasting gratitude.”
+
+“Show it to him,” said Madame Desvarennes; “he is the companion of
+Micheline’s young days, almost a son to me.”
+
+And turning toward Pierre, she pointed him out to Panine.
+
+Serge took three rapid strides toward Pierre, but quick as he had been
+Micheline was before him. Each of the lovers seized a hand of
+Pierre, and pressed it with tender effusion. Panine, with his Polish
+impetuosity, was making the most ardent protestations to Pierre--he
+would be indebted to him for life.
+
+Micheline’s late betrothed, with despair in his heart, allowed his
+hands to be pressed and wrung in silence. The voice of her whom he loved
+brought tears to his eyes.
+
+“How generous and good you are!” said the young girl, “how nobly you
+have sacrificed yourself!”
+
+“Don’t thank me,” replied Pierre; “I have no merit in accomplishing what
+you admire. I am weak, you see, and I could not bear to see you suffer.”
+
+There was a great commotion in the drawing-room. Cayrol was explaining
+to Herzog, who was listening with great attention, what was taking
+place. Serge Panine was to be Madame Desvarennes’s son-in-law. It was a
+great event.
+
+“Certainly,” said the German; “Madame Desvarennes’s son-in-law will
+become a financial power. And a Prince, too. What a fine name for a
+board of directors!”
+
+The two financiers looked at each other for a moment; the same thought
+had struck them.
+
+“Yes, but,” replied Cayrol, “Madame Desvarennes will never allow Panine
+to take part in business.”
+
+“Who knows?” said Herzog. “We shall see how the marriage settlements are
+drawn up.”
+
+“But,” cried Cayrol, “I would not have it said that I was leading Madame
+Desvarennes’s son-in-law into speculations.”
+
+“Who is speaking of that?” replied Herzog, coldly. “Am I seeking
+shareholders? I have more money than I want; I refuse millions every
+day.”
+
+“Oh, I know capitalists run after you,” said Cayrol, laughingly; “and
+to welcome them you affect the scruples of a pretty woman. But let us go
+and congratulate the Prince.”
+
+While Cayrol and Herzog were exchanging those few words which had such a
+considerable influence on the future of Serge Panine--a scene, terrible
+in its simplicity, was going on without being noticed. Micheline had
+thrown herself with a burst of tenderness into her mother’s arms.
+Serge was deeply affected by the young girl’s affection for him, when
+a trembling hand touched his arm. He turned round. Jeanne de Cernay was
+before him, pale and wan; her eyes sunken into her head like two black
+nails, and her lips tightened by a violent contraction. The Prince stood
+thunderstruck at the sight of her. He looked around him. Nobody was
+observing him. Pierre was beside Marechal, who was whispering those
+words which only true friends can find in the sad hours of life.
+Madame Desvarennes was holding Micheline in her arms. Serge approached
+Mademoiselle de Cernay. Jeanne still fixed on him the same menacing
+look. He was afraid.
+
+“Take care!” he said.
+
+“Of what?” asked the young girl, with a troubled voice. “What have I to
+fear now?”
+
+“What do you wish?” resumed Panine, with old firmness, and with a
+gesture of impatience.
+
+“I wish to speak with you immediately.”
+
+“You see that is impossible.”
+
+“I must.”
+
+Cayrol and Herzog approached. Serge smiled at Jeanne with a sign of the
+head which meant “Yes.” The young girl turned away in silence, awaiting
+the fulfilment of the promise made.
+
+Cayrol took her by the hand with tender familiarity.
+
+“What were you saying to the happy man who has gained the object of his
+dreams, Mademoiselle? It is not to him you must speak, but to me, to
+give me hope. The moment is propitious; it is the day for betrothals.
+You know how much I love you; do me the favor of no longer repulsing me
+as you have done hitherto! If you would be kind, how charming it would
+be to celebrate the two weddings on the same day. One church, one
+ceremony, one splendid feast would unite two happy couples. Is there
+nothing in this picture to entice you?”
+
+“I am not easily enticed, as you know,” said Jeanne, in a firm voice,
+trying to smile.
+
+Micheline and Madame Desvarennes had drawn near.
+
+“Come, Cayrol,” said Serge, in a tone of command; “I am happy to-day;
+perhaps I may succeed in your behalf as I have done in my own. Let me
+plead your cause with Mademoiselle de Cernay?”
+
+“With all my heart. I need an eloquent pleader,” sighed the banker,
+shaking his head sadly.
+
+“And you, Mademoiselle, will you submit to the trial?” asked the Prince,
+turning toward Jeanne. “We have always been good friends, and I shall
+be almost a brother to you. This gives me some right over your mind and
+heart, it seems to me. Do you authorize me to exercise it?”
+
+“As you like, sir,” answered Jeanne, coldly. “The attempt is novel. Who
+knows? Perhaps it will succeed!”
+
+“May Heaven grant it,” said Cayrol. Then, approaching Panine:
+
+“Ah! dear Prince, what gratitude I shall owe you! You know,” added he in
+a whisper, “if you need a few thousand louis for wedding presents--”
+
+“Go, go, corrupter!” replied Serge, with the same forced gayety; “you
+are flashing your money in front of us. You see it is not invincible, as
+you are obliged to have recourse to my feeble talents. But know that I
+am working for glory.”
+
+And turning toward Madame Desvarennes he added: “I only ask a quarter of
+an hour.”
+
+“Don’t defend yourself too much,” said Micheline in her companion’s ear,
+and giving her a tender kiss which the latter did not return.
+
+“Come with me,” said Micheline to Pierre, offering him her arm; “I want
+to belong to you alone while Serge is pleading with Jeanne. I will be
+your sister as formerly. If you only knew how I love you!”
+
+The large French window which led to the garden had just been opened
+by Marechal, and the mild odors of a lovely spring night perfumed the
+drawing-room. They all went out on the lawn. Thousands of stars were
+twinkling in the sky, and the eyes of Micheline and Pierre were lifted
+toward the dark blue heavens seeking vaguely for the star which presided
+over their destiny. She, to know whether her life would be the long poem
+of love of which she dreamed; he, to ask whether glory, that exacting
+mistress for whom he had made so many sacrifices, would at least comfort
+him for his lost love.
+
+
+
+
+BOOK 2.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII. JEANNE’S SECRET
+
+In the drawing-room Jeanne and Serge remained standing, facing each
+other. The mask had fallen from their faces; the forced smile had
+disappeared. They looked at each other attentively, like two duellists
+seeking to read each other’s game, so that they may ward off the fatal
+stroke and prepare the decisive parry.
+
+“Why did you leave for England three weeks ago, without seeing me and
+without speaking to me?”
+
+“What could I have said to you?” replied the Prince, with an air of
+fatigue and dejection.
+
+Jeanne flashed a glance brilliant as lightning:
+
+“You could have told me that you had just asked for Micheline’s hand!”
+
+“That would have been brutal!”
+
+“It would have been honest! But it would have necessitated an
+explanation, and you don’t like explaining. You have preferred leaving
+me to guess this news from the acts of those around me, and the talk of
+strangers.”
+
+All these words had been spoken by Jeanne with feverish vivacity. The
+sentences were as cutting as strokes from a whip. The young girl’s
+agitation was violent; her cheeks were red, and her breathing was hard
+and stifled with emotion. She stopped for a moment; then, turning toward
+the Prince, and looking him full in the face, she said:
+
+“And so, this marriage is decided?”
+
+Serge answered,
+
+“Yes.”
+
+It was fainter than a whisper. As if she could not believe it, Jeanne
+repeated:
+
+“You are going to marry Micheline?”
+
+And as Panine in a firmer voice answered again, “Yes!” the young girl
+took two rapid steps and brought her flushed face close to him.
+
+“And I, then?” she cried with a violence she could no longer restrain.
+
+Serge made a sign. The drawing-room window was still open, and from
+outside they could be heard.
+
+“Jeanne, in mercy calm yourself,” replied he. “You are in a state of
+excitement.”
+
+“Which makes you uncomfortable?” interrupted the young girl mockingly.
+
+“Yes, but for your sake only,” said he, coldly.
+
+“For mine?”
+
+“Certainly. I fear your committing an imprudence which might harm you.”
+
+“Yes; but you with me! And it is that only which makes you afraid.”
+
+The Prince looked at Mademoiselle de Cernay, smilingly. Changing his
+tone, he took her hand in his.
+
+“How naughty you are to-night! And what temper you are showing
+toward poor Serge! What an opinion he will have of himself after your
+displaying such a flattering scene of jealousy!”
+
+Jeanne drew away her hand.
+
+“Ah, don’t try to joke. This is not the moment, I assure you. You don’t
+exactly realize your situation. Don’t you understand that I am prepared
+to tell Madame Desvarennes everything--”
+
+“Everything!” said the Prince. “In truth, it would not amount to much.
+You would tell her that I met you in England; that I courted you, and
+that you found my attentions agreeable. And then? It pleases you to
+think too seriously of that midsummer night’s dream under the great
+trees of Churchill Castle, and you reproach me for my errors! But what
+are they? Seriously, I do not see them! We lived in a noisy world; where
+we enjoyed the liberty which English manners allow to young people. Your
+aunt found no fault with the charming chatter which the English call
+flirtation. I told you I loved you; you allowed me to think that I was
+not displeasing to you. We, thanks to that delightful agreement, spent
+a most agreeable summer, and now you do not wish to put an end to that
+pleasant little excursion made beyond the limits drawn by our Parisian
+world, so severe, whatever people say about it. It is not reasonable,
+and it is imprudent. If you carry out your menacing propositions, and if
+you take my future mother-in-law as judge of the rights which you
+claim, don’t you understand that you would be condemned beforehand? Her
+interests are directly opposed to yours. Could she hesitate between her
+daughter and you?”
+
+“Oh! your calculations are clever and your measures were well taken,”
+ replied Jeanne. “Still, if Madame Desvarennes were not the woman you
+think her--” Then, hesitating:
+
+“If she took my part, and thinking that he who was an unloyal lover
+would be an unfaithful husband--she would augur of the future of her
+daughter by my experience; and what would happen?”
+
+“Simply this,” returned Serge. “Weary of the precarious and hazardous
+life which I lead, I would leave for Austria, and rejoin the service. A
+uniform is the only garb which can hide poverty honorably.”
+
+Jeanne looked at him with anguish; and making an effort said:
+
+“Then, in any case, for me it is abandonment?” And falling upon a seat,
+she hid her face in her hands. Panine remained silent for a moment. The
+young girl’s, grief, which he knew to be sincere, troubled him more than
+he wished to show. He had loved Mademoiselle de Cernay, and he loved her
+still. But he felt that a sign of weakness on his part would place him
+at Jeanne’s mercy, and that an avowal from his lips at this grave moment
+meant a breaking-off of his marriage with Micheline. He hardened himself
+against his impressions, and replied, with insinuating sweetness:
+
+“Why do you speak of desertion, when a good man who loves you fondly,
+and who possesses a handsome fortune, wishes to marry you?”
+
+Mademoiselle de Cernay raised her head, hastily.
+
+“So, it is you who advise me to marry Monsieur Cayrol? Is there nothing
+revolting to you in the idea that I should follow your advice? But then,
+you deceived me from the first moment you spoke to me. You have never
+loved me even for a day! Not an hour!”
+
+Serge smiled, and resuming his light, caressing tone, replied:
+
+“My dear Jeanne, if I had a hundred thousand francs a year, I give you
+my word of honor that I would not marry another woman but you, for you
+would make an adorable Princess.”
+
+Mademoiselle de Cernay made a gesture of perfect indifference.
+
+“Ah! what does the title matter to me?” she exclaimed, with passion.
+“What I want is you! Nothing but you!”
+
+“You do not know what you ask. I love you far too much to associate you
+with my destiny. If you knew that gilded misery, that white kid-gloved
+poverty, which is my lot, you would be frightened, and you would
+understand that in my resolution to give you up there is much of
+tenderness and generosity. Do you think it is such an easy matter to
+give up a woman so adorable as you are? I resign myself to it, though.
+
+“What could I do with my beautiful Jeanne in the three rooms in the Rue
+de Madame where I live? Could I, with the ten or twelve thousand francs
+which I receive through the liberality of the Russian Panines, provide
+a home? I can hardly make it do for myself. I live at the club, where I
+dine cheaply. I ride my friends’ horses! I never touch a card, although
+I love play. I go much in society; I shine there, and walk home to save
+the cost of a carriage. My door-keeper cleans my rooms and keeps my
+linen in order. My private life is sad, dull, and humiliating. It is
+the black chrysalis of the bright butterfly which you know. That is what
+Prince Panine is, my dear Jeanne. A gentleman of good appearance, who
+lives as carefully as an old maid. The world sees him elegant and
+happy, and its envies his luxury; but this luxury is as deluding
+as watch-chains made of pinchbeck. You understand now that I cannot
+seriously ask you to share such an existence.”
+
+But if, with this sketch of his life, correctly described, Panine
+thought to turn the young girl against him, he was mistaken. He had
+counted without considering Jeanne’s sanguine temperament, which would
+lead her to make any sacrifices to keep the man she adored.
+
+“If you were rich, Serge,” she said, “I would not have made an effort
+to bring you back to me. But you are poor and I have a right to tell you
+that I love you. Life with you would be all devotedness and self-denial.
+Each pain endured would be a proof of love, and that is why I wish to
+suffer. Your life with mine would be neither sad nor humiliated; I
+would make it sweet by my tenderness, and bright by my happiness. And we
+should be so happy that you would say, ‘How could I ever have dreamed of
+anything else?’”
+
+“Alas! Jeanne,” replied the Prince; “it is a charming and poetic idyl
+which you present to me. We should flee far from the world, eh? We
+should go to an unknown spot and try to regain paradise lost. How long
+would that happiness last? A season during the springtime of our youth.
+Then autumn would come, sad and harsh. Our illusions would vanish like
+the swallows in romances, and we should find, with alarm, that we had
+taken the dream of a day for eternal happiness! Forgive my speaking
+plain words of disenchantment,” added Serge, seeing Jeanne rising
+abruptly, “but our life is being settled at this moment. Reason alone
+should guide us.”
+
+“And I beseech you to be guided only by your heart,” cried Mademoiselle
+de Cernay, seizing the hands of the Prince, and pressing them with her
+trembling fingers. “Remember that you loved me. Say that you love me
+still!”
+
+Jeanne had drawn near to Serge. Her burning face almost touched his. Her
+eyes, bright with excitement, pleaded passionately for a tender look.
+She was most fascinating, and Panine, usually master of himself, lost
+his presence of mind for a moment. His arms encircled the shoulders of
+the adorable pleader, and his lips were buried in the masses of her dark
+hair.
+
+“Serge!” cried Mademoiselle de Cernay, clinging to him whom she loved so
+fondly.
+
+But the Prince was as quickly calmed as he had been carried away. He
+gently put Jeanne aside.
+
+“You see,” he said with a smile, “how unreasonable we are and how easily
+we might commit an irreparable folly. And yet our means will not allow
+us.”
+
+“In mercy do not leave me!” pleaded Jeanne, in a tone of despair. “You
+love me! I feel it; everything tells me so! And you would desert me
+because you are poor and I am not rich. Is a man ever poor when he has
+two arms? Work.”
+
+The word was uttered by Jeanne with admirable energy. She possessed the
+courage to overcome every difficulty.
+
+Serge trembled. For the second time he felt touched to the very soul
+by this strange girl. He understood that he must not leave her with the
+slightest hope of encouragement, but throw ice on the fire which was
+devouring her.
+
+“My dear Jeanne,” he said, with affectionate sweetness, “you are talking
+nonsense. Remember this, that for Prince Panine there are only three
+social conditions possible: to be rich, a soldier, or a priest. I have
+the choice. It is for you to decide.”
+
+This put an end to Mademoiselle de Cernay’s resistance. She felt how
+useless was further argument, and falling on a sofa, crushed with grief,
+cried:
+
+“Ah! this time it is finished; I am lost!”
+
+Panine, then, approaching her, insinuating and supple, like the serpent
+with the first woman, murmured in her ear, as if afraid lest his words,
+in being spoken aloud, would lose their subtle venom:
+
+“No, you are not lost. On the contrary, you are saved, if you will
+only listen to and understand me. What are we, you and I? You, a child
+adopted by a generous woman; I, a ruined nobleman. You live in luxury,
+thanks to Madame Desvarennes’s liberality. I can scarcely manage to keep
+myself with the help of my family. Our present is precarious, our future
+hazardous. And, suddenly, fortune is within our grasp. We have only to
+stretch out our hands, and with one stroke we gain the uncontested power
+which money brings!
+
+“Riches, that aim of humanity! Do you understand? We, the weak and
+disdained, become strong and powerful. And what is necessary to gain
+them? A flash of sense; a minute of wisdom; forget a dream and accept a
+reality.”
+
+Jeanne waited till he had finished. A bitter smile played on her lips.
+Henceforth she would believe in no one. After listening to what Serge
+had just said, she could listen to anything.
+
+“So,” said she, “the dream is love; the reality is interest. And is it
+you who speak thus to me? You, for whom I was prepared to endure any
+sacrifice! You, whom I would have served on my knees! And what reason do
+you give to justify your conduct? Money! Indispensable and stupid money!
+Nothing but money! But it is odious, infamous, low!”
+
+Serge received this terrible broadside of abuse without flinching. He
+had armed himself against contempt, and was deaf to all insults. Jeanne
+went on with increasing rage:
+
+“Micheline has everything: family, fortune, and friends, and she is
+taking away my one possession--your love. Tell me that you love her! It
+will be more cruel but less vile! But no, it is not possible! You
+gave way to temptation at seeing her so rich; you had a feeling of
+covetousness, but you will become yourself again and will act like an
+honest man. Think, that in my eyes you are dishonoring yourself! Serge,
+answer me!”
+
+She clung to him again, and tried to regain him by her ardor, to
+warm him with her passion. He remained unmoved, silent, and cold. Her
+conscience rebelled.
+
+“Well, then,” said she, “marry her.”
+
+She remained silent and sullen, seeming to forget he was there. She was
+thinking deeply. Then she walked wildly up and down the room, saying:
+
+“So, it is that implacable self-interest with which I have just come in
+contact, which is the law of the world, the watchword of society! So, in
+refusing to share the common folly, I risk remaining in isolation, and
+I must be strong to make others stand in awe of me. Very well, then, I
+shall henceforth act in such a manner as to be neither dupe nor victim.
+In future, everything will be: self, and woe to him who hinders me. That
+is the morality of the age, is it not?”
+
+And she laughed nervously.
+
+“Was I not stupid? Come, Prince, you have made me clever. Many thanks
+for the lesson; it was difficult, but I shall profit by it.”
+
+The Prince, astonished at the sudden change, listened to Jeanne with
+stupor. He did not yet quite understand.
+
+“What do you intend to do?” asked he.
+
+Jeanne looked at him with a fiendish expression. Her eyes sparkled like
+stars; her white teeth shone between her lips.
+
+“I intend,” replied she, “to lay the foundation of my power, and to
+follow your advice, by marrying a millionaire!”
+
+She ran to the window, and, looking out toward the shady garden, called:
+
+“Monsieur Cayrol!”
+
+Serge, full of surprise, and seized by a sudden fit of jealousy, went
+toward her as if to recall her.
+
+“Jeanne,” said he, vaguely holding out his arms.
+
+“Well! what is it?” she asked, with crushing haughtiness. “Are you
+frightened at having gained your cause so quickly?”
+
+And as Serge did not speak:
+
+“Come,” added she, “you will have a handsome fee; Micheline’s dower will
+be worth the trouble you have had.”
+
+They heard Cayrol’s hurried steps ascending the stairs.
+
+“You have done me the honor to call me, Mademoiselle,” said he,
+remaining on the threshold of the drawing-room. “Am I fortunate enough
+at length to have found favor in your eyes?”
+
+“Here is my hand,” said Mademoiselle de Cernay, simply tendering him her
+white taper fingers, which he covered with kisses.
+
+Madame Desvarennes had come in behind the banker. She uttered a joyous
+exclamation.
+
+“Cayrol, you shall not marry Jeanne for her beauty alone. I will give
+her a dower.”
+
+Micheline fell on her companion’s neck. It was a concert of
+congratulations. But Jeanne, with a serious air, led Cayrol aside:
+
+“I wish to act honestly toward you, sir; I yield to the pleading of
+which I am the object. But you must know that my sentiments do not
+change so quickly. It is my hand only which I give you today.”
+
+“I have not the conceitedness to think that you love me, Mademoiselle,”
+ said Cayrol, humbly. “You give me your hand; it will be for me to gain
+your heart, and with time and sincere affection I do not despair of
+winning it. I am truly happy, believe me, for the favor you do me, and
+all my life long shall be spent in proving my gratitude to you.”
+
+Jeanne was moved; she glanced at Cayrol, and did not think him so
+common-looking as usual. She resolved to do all in her power to like
+this good man.
+
+Serge, in taking leave of Madame Desvarennes, said:
+
+“In exchange for all the happiness which you give me, I have only my
+life to offer; accept it, Madame, it is yours.”
+
+The mistress looked at the Prince deeply; then, in a singular tone,
+said:
+
+“I accept it; from to-day you belong to me.”
+
+Marechal took Pierre by the arm and led him outside.
+
+“The Prince has just uttered words which remind me of Antonio saying to
+the Jew in ‘The Merchant of Venice’: ‘Thy ducats in exchange for a
+pound of my flesh.’ Madame Desvarennes loves her daughter with a more
+formidable love than Shylock had for his gold. The Prince will do well
+to be exact in his payments of the happiness which he has promised.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII. A PLEASANT UNDERSTANDING
+
+The day following this memorable evening, Pierre left for Algeria,
+notwithstanding the prayers of Madame Desvarennes who wished to keep him
+near her. He was going to finish his labors. He promised to return
+in time for the wedding. The mistress, wishing to give him some
+compensation, offered him the management of the mills at Jouy, saying:
+
+“So that if you are not my son, you will be at least my partner. And if
+I do not leave you all my money at my death, I can enrich you during my
+life.”
+
+Pierre would not accept. He would not have it said that in wishing to
+marry Micheline he had tried to make a speculation. He wished to leave
+that house where he had hoped to spend his life, empty-handed, so that
+no one could doubt that it was the woman he loved in Micheline and not
+the heiress. He had been offered a splendid appointment in Savoy as
+manager of some mines; he would find there at the same time profit and
+happiness, because there were interesting scientific studies to be made
+in order to enable him to carry on the work creditably. He resolved to
+throw himself heart and soul into the work and seek forgetfulness in
+study.
+
+In the mansion of the Rue Saint-Dominique the marriage preparations were
+carried on with great despatch. On the one side the Prince, and on
+the other Cayrol, were eager for the day: the one because he saw the
+realization of his ambitious dreams, the other because he loved so
+madly. Serge, gracious and attentive, allowed himself to be adored by
+Micheline, who was never weary of listening to and looking at him whom
+she loved. It was a sort of delirium that had taken possession of the
+young girl. Madame Desvarennes looked on the metamorphosis in her child
+with amazement. The old Micheline, naturally indolent and cold, just
+living with the indolence of an odalisque stretched on silk cushions,
+had changed into a lively, loving sweetheart, with sparkling eyes and
+cheerful lips. Like those lowers which the sun causes to bloom and be
+fragrant, so Micheline under a look from Serge became animated and grown
+handsomer.
+
+The mother looked on with bitterness; she spoke of this transformation
+in her child with ironical disdain, She was sure Micheline was not in
+earnest; only a doll was capable of falling in love so foolishly with a
+man for his personal beauty. For to her mind the Prince was as regards
+mental power painfully deficient. No sense, dumb as soon as the
+conversation took a serious turn, only able to talk dress like a woman,
+or about horses like a jockey. And it was such a person upon whom
+Micheline literally doted! The mistress felt humiliated; she dared not
+say anything to her daughter, but she relieved herself in company of
+Marechal, whose discretion she could trust, and whom she willingly
+called the tomb of her secrets.
+
+Marechal listened patiently to the confidences of Madame Desvarennes,
+and he tried to fight against the growing animosity of the mistress
+toward her future son-in-law. Not that he liked the Prince--he was too
+much on Pierre’s side to be well disposed toward Panine; but with his
+good sense he saw that Madame Desvarennes would find it advantageous to
+overcome her feeling of dislike. And when the mistress, so formidable
+toward everybody except her daughter, cried with rage:
+
+“That Micheline! I have just seen her again in the garden, hanging on
+the arm of that great lanky fellow, her eyes fixed on his like a lark
+fascinated by a looking-glass. What on earth has happened to her that
+she should be in such a state?”
+
+Marechal interrupted her gently.
+
+“All fair people are like that,” he affirmed with ironical gayety. “You
+cannot understand it, Madame; you are dark.”
+
+Then Madame Desvarennes became angry.
+
+“Be quiet,” she said, “you are stupid! She ought to have a shower-bath!
+She is mad!”
+
+As for Cayrol he lived in ecstasy, like an Italian kneeling before a
+madonna. He had never been so happy; he was overwhelmed with joy. Until
+then, he had only thought of business matters. To be rich was the aim
+of his life; and now he was going to work for happiness. It was all
+pleasure for him. He was not blase; he amused himself like a child,
+adorning the rooms which were to be occupied by Jeanne. To his mind
+nothing was too expensive for the temple of his goddess, as he said,
+with a loud laugh which lighted up his whole face. And when he spoke of
+his love’s future nest, he exclaimed, with a voluptuous shiver:
+
+“It is charming; a veritable little paradise!” Then the financier shone
+through all, and he added:
+
+“And I know what it costs!”
+
+But he did not grudge his money. He knew he would get the interest of
+it back. On one subject he was anxious--Mademoiselle de Cernay’s health.
+Since the day of their engagement, Jeanne had become more serious and
+dull. She had grown thin and her eyes were sunken as if she wept in
+secret. When he spoke of his fears to Madame Desvarennes, the latter
+said:
+
+“These young girls are so senseless. The notion of marriage puts them in
+such an incomprehensible state! Look at my daughter. She chatters like
+a magpie and skips about like a kid. She has two glow-worms under her
+eyelids! As to Jeanne, that’s another affair; she has the matrimonial
+melancholy, and has the air of a young victim. Leave them alone; it
+will all come right. But you must admit that the gayety of the one is at
+least as irritating as the languor of the other!”
+
+Cayrol, somewhat reassured by this explanation, and thinking, like her,
+that it was the uncertainties of marriage which were troubling Jeanne,
+no longer attached any importance to her sad appearance. Micheline and
+Serge isolated themselves completely. They fled to the garden as soon as
+any one ventured into the drawing room, to interrupt their tete-a-tete.
+If visitors came to the garden they took refuge in the conservatory.
+
+This manoeuvre pleased Serge, because he always felt uncomfortable in
+Jeanne’s presence. Mademoiselle de Cernay had a peculiar wrinkle on her
+brow whenever she saw Micheline passing before her hanging on the arm of
+the Prince, which tormented him. They were obliged to meet at table in
+the evening, for Serge and Cayrol dined at the Rue Saint-Dominique. The
+Prince talked in whispers to Micheline, but every now and then he was
+obliged to speak to Jeanne. These were painful moments to Serge. He
+was always in dread of some outburst, knowing her ardent and passionate
+nature. Thus, before Jeanne, he made Micheline behave in a less
+demonstrative manner. Mademoiselle Desvarennes was proud of this
+reserve, and thought it was tact and good breeding on the part of the
+Prince, without doubting that what she thought reserve in the man of the
+world was the prudence of an anxious lover.
+
+Jeanne endured the tortures of Hades. Too proud to say anything after
+the explanation she had had with Serge, too much smitten to bear calmly
+the sight of her rival’s happiness, she saw draw near with deep horror
+the moment when she would belong to the man whom she had determined to
+marry although she did not love him. She once thought of breaking off
+the engagement; as she could not belong to the man whom she adored, at
+least she could belong to herself. But the thought of the struggle she
+would have to sustain with those who surrounded her, stopped her. What
+would she do at Madame Desvarennes’s? She would have to witness the
+happiness of Micheline and Serge. She would rather leave the house.
+
+With Cayrol at least she could go away; she would be free, and perhaps
+the esteem which she would surely have for her husband would do instead
+of love. Sisterly or filial love, in fact the least affection, would
+satisfy the poor man, who was willing to accept anything from Jeanne.
+And she would not have that group of Serge and Micheline before her
+eyes, always walking round the lawn and disappearing arm in arm down
+the narrow walks. She would not have the continual murmur of their
+love-making in her ears, a murmur broken by the sound of kisses when
+they reached shady corners.
+
+One evening, when Serge appeared in the little drawing-room of the Rue
+Saint-Dominique, he found Madame Desvarennes alone. She looked serious,
+as if same important business were pending. She stood before the
+fireplace; her hands crossed behind her back like a man. Apparently,
+she had sought to be alone. Cayrol, Jeanne, and Micheline were in
+the garden. Serge felt uneasy. He had a presentiment of trouble. But
+determined to make the best of it, whatever it might be, he looked
+pleasant and bowed to Madame Desvarennes, without his face betraying his
+uneasiness.
+
+“Good-day, Prince; you are early this evening, though not so early as
+Cayrol; but then he does not quite know what he is doing now. Sit down,
+I want to talk to you. You know that a young lady like Mademoiselle
+Desvarennes cannot get married without her engagement being much talked
+about. Tongues have been very busy, and pens too. I have heard a lot of
+scandal and have received heaps of anonymous letters about you.”
+
+Serge gave a start of indignation.
+
+“Don’t be uneasy,” continued the mistress. “I did not heed the tales,
+and I burned the letters. Some said you were a dissolute man, capable
+of anything to gain your object. Others insinuated that you were not a
+Prince, that you were not a Pole, but the son of a Russian coachman and
+a little dressmaker of Les Ternes; that you had lived at the expense of
+Mademoiselle Anna Monplaisir, the star of the Varietes Theatre, and that
+you were bent on marrying to pay your debts with my daughter’s money.”
+
+Panine, pale as death, rose up and said, in a stifled voice:
+
+“Madame!”
+
+“Sit down, my dear child,” interrupted the mistress. “If I tell you
+these things, it is because I have the proofs that they are untrue.
+Otherwise, I would not have given myself the trouble to talk to you
+about them. I would have shown you the door and there would have been
+an end of it. Certainly, you are not an angel; but the peccadillos which
+you have been guilty of are those which one forgives in a son, and which
+in a son-in-law makes some mothers smile. You are a Prince, you are
+handsome, and you have been loved. You were then a bachelor; and it was
+your own affair. But now, you are going to be, in about ten days, the
+husband of my daughter, and it is necessary for us to make certain
+arrangements. Therefore, I waited to see you, to speak of your wife, of
+yourself, and of me.”
+
+What Madame Desvarennes had just said relieved Serge of a great weight.
+He felt so happy that he resolved to do everything in his power to
+please the mother of his betrothed.
+
+“Speak, Madame,” he exclaimed. “I am listening to you with attention
+and confidence. I am sure that from you I can only expect goodness and
+sense.”
+
+The mistress smiled.
+
+“Oh, I know you have a gilt tongue, my handsome friend, but I don’t pay
+myself with words, and I, am not easy to be wheedled.”
+
+“Faith,” said Serge, “I won’t deceive you. I will try to please you with
+all my heart.”
+
+Madame Desvarennes’s face brightened as suddenly at these words as a
+landscape, wrapped in a fog, which is suddenly lighted up by the sun.
+
+“Then we shall understand each other,” she said. “For the last fortnight
+we have been busy with marriage preparations, and have not been able
+to think or reason. Everybody is rambling about here. Still, we are
+commencing a new life, and I think it is as well to lay the foundation.
+I seem to be drawing up a contract, eh? What can I do? It is an old
+business habit. I like to know how I stand.”
+
+“I think it is quite right. I think, too, that you have acted with great
+delicacy in not imposing your conditions upon me before giving your
+consent.”
+
+“Has that made you feel better disposed toward me? So much the better!”
+ said the mistress. “Because you know that I depend on my daughter, who
+will henceforth depend on you, and it is to my interest that I should be
+in your good graces.”
+
+In pronouncing these words with forced cheerfulness, Madame
+Desvarennes’s voice trembled slightly. She knew what an important game
+she was playing, and wished to win it at any price.
+
+“You see,” continued she, “I am not an easy woman to deal with. I am a
+little despotic, I know. I have been in the habit of commanding during
+the last thirty-five years. Business was heavy, and required a strong
+will. I had it, and the habit is formed. But this strong will, which has
+served me so well in business will, I am afraid, with you, play me
+some trick. Those who have lived with me a long time know that if I am
+hot-headed I have a good heart. They submit to my tyranny; but you who
+are a newcomer, how will you like it?”
+
+“I shall do as the others do,” said Serge, simply. “I shall be led,
+and with pleasure. Think that I have lived for years without kindred,
+without ties--at random; and, believe me, any chain will be light and
+sweet which holds me to any one or anything. And then,” frankly added
+he, changing his tone and looking at Madame Desvarennes with tenderness,
+“if I did not do everything to please you I should be ungrateful.”
+
+“Oh!” cried Madame Desvarennes, “unfortunately that is not a reason.”
+
+“Would you have a better one?” said the young man, in his most charming
+accent. “If I had not married your daughter for her own sake, I believe
+that I should have married her for yours.” Madame Desvarennes was quite
+pleased, and shaking her finger threateningly at Serge, said:
+
+“Ah, you Pole, you boaster of the North!”
+
+“Seriously,” continued Serge, “before I knew I was to be your
+son-in-law, I thought you a matchless woman. Add to the admiration I had
+for your great qualities the affection which your goodness has inspired,
+and you will understand that I am both proud and happy to have such a
+mother as you.”
+
+Madame Desvarennes looked at Panine attentively; she saw he was sincere.
+Then, taking courage, she touched the topic of greatest interest to her.
+“If that is the case, you will have no objections to live with me?” She
+stopped; then emphasized the words, “With me.”
+
+“But was not that understood?” asked Serge, gayly’ “I thought so. You
+must have seen that I have not been seeking a dwelling for my wife and
+myself. If you had not made the offer to me, I should have asked you to
+let me stay with you.”
+
+Madame Desvarennes broke into such an outburst of joy that she
+astonished Panine. It was then only that in that pallor, in that sudden
+trembling, in that changed voice, he understood, the immensity of the
+mother’s love for her daughter.
+
+“I have everything to gain by that arrangement,” continued he. “My wife
+will be happy at not leaving you, and you will be pleased at my not
+having taken away your daughter. You will both like me better, and that
+is all I wish.”
+
+“How good you are in deciding thus, and how I thank you for it,” resumed
+Madame Desvarennes. “I feared you would have ideas of independence.”
+
+“I should have been happy to sacrifice them to you, but I have not even
+that merit.”
+
+All that Serge had said had been so open and plain, and expressed with
+such sweetness that, little by little, Madame Desvarennes’s prejudices
+disappeared. He took possession of her as he had done of Micheline,
+and as he did of every one whom he wished to conquer. His charm was
+irresistible. He seized on one by the eyes and the ears. Naturally
+fascinating, moving, captivating, bold, he always preserved his artless
+and tender ways, which made him resemble a young girl.
+
+“I am going to tell you how we shall manage,” said the mistress.
+“Foreseeing my daughter’s marriage, I have had my house divided into
+two distinct establishments. They say that life in common with a
+mother-in-law is objectionable to a son-in-law, therefore I wish you
+to have a home of your own. I know that an old face like mine frightens
+young lovers. I will come to you when you invite me. But even when I
+am shut up in my own apartments I shall be with my daughter; I shall
+breathe the same air; I shall hear her going and coming, singing,
+laughing, and I shall say to myself, ‘It is all right, she is happy.’
+That is all I ask. A little corner, whence I can share her life.”
+
+Serge took her hand with effusion.
+
+“Don’t be afraid; your daughter will not leave you.”
+
+Madame Desvarennes, unable to contain her feelings, opened her arms, and
+Serge fell on her breast, like a true son.
+
+“Do you know, I am going to adore you!” cried Madame Desvarennes,
+showing Panine a face beaming with happiness.
+
+“I hope so,” said the young man, gayly.
+
+Madame Desvarennes became thoughtful.
+
+“What a strange thing life is!” resumed she. “I did not want you for a
+son-in-law, and now you are behaving so well toward me that I am full
+of remorse. Oh, I see now what a dangerous man you are, if you captivate
+other women’s hearts as you have caught mine.”
+
+She looked at the Prince fixedly, and added, in her clear commanding
+voice, with a shade of gayety:
+
+“Now, I hope you will reserve all your powers of charming for my
+daughter. No more flirting, eh? She loves you; she would be jealous,
+and you would get into hot water with me! Let Micheline’s life be happy,
+without a cloud-blue, always blue sky!”
+
+“That will be easy,” said Serge. “To be unhappy I should have to seek
+misfortune; and I certainly shall not do that.”
+
+He began to laugh.
+
+“Besides, your good friends who criticised so when you gave me
+Micheline’s hand would be only too pleased. I will not give them the
+pleasure of posing as prophets and saying, ‘We knew it would be so!’”
+
+“You must forgive them,” replied Madame Desvarennes. “You have made
+enemies. Without speaking of projects which I had formed, I may say that
+my daughter has had offers from the best folks in Paris; from first-rate
+firms! Our circle was rather indignant.
+
+“People said: ‘Oh, Madame Desvarennes wanted her daughter to be a
+Princess. We shall see how it will turn out. Her son-in-law will spend
+her money and spurn her.’ The gossip of disappointed people. Give them
+the lie; manage that we shall all live together, and we shall be right
+against the world.”
+
+“Do you hope it will be so?”
+
+“I am sure of it,” answered the mistress, affectionately pressing the
+hand of her future son-in-law.
+
+Micheline entered, anxious at the long interview between Serge and her
+mother. She saw them hand in hand. She uttered a joyful cry, and threw
+her arms caressingly round her mother’s neck.
+
+“Well! you are agreed?” she said, making a gracious sign to Serge.
+
+“He has been charming,” replied Madame Desvarennes, whispering in
+her daughter’s ear. “He agrees to live in this house, and that quite
+gracefully. There, child, this is the happiest moment I’ve had since
+your engagement. I admit that I regret nothing.”
+
+Then, resuming aloud:
+
+“We will leave to-morrow for Cernay, where the marriage shall take
+place. I shall have to order the workmen in here to get ready for your
+reception. Besides the wedding will be more brilliant in the country. We
+shall have all the work-people there. We will throw the park open to
+the countryside; it will be a grand fete. For we are lords of the manor
+there,” added she, with pride.
+
+“You are right, mamma; it will be far better,” exclaimed Micheline. And
+taking Serge by the hand:
+
+“Come, let us go,” said she, and led him into the garden.
+
+And amid the sweet-smelling shrubs they resumed their walk, always the
+same yet ever new, their arms twined round each other, the young girl
+clinging to him whom she loved, and he looking fondly at her, and with
+caressing voice telling her the oft-told tale of love which she was
+never tired of hearing, and which always filled her with thrills of joy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX. THE DOUBLE MARRIAGE
+
+The Chateau of Cernay is a vast and beautiful structure of the time of
+Louis XIII. A walled park of a hundred acres surrounds it, with trees
+centuries old. A white painted gate separates the avenue from the road
+leading to Pontoise by way of Conflans. A carpet of grass, on which
+carriages roll as if on velvet, leads up to the park gates. Before
+reaching, it there is a stone bridge which spans the moat of running
+water. A lodge of stone, faced with brick, with large windows, rises at
+each corner of this space.
+
+The chateau, surrounded by cleverly arranged trees, stands in the
+centre, on a solid foundation of red granite from the Jura. A splendid
+double staircase leads to the ground floor as high as an ‘entresol’. A
+spacious hall, rising to the roof of the building, lighted by a window
+filled with old stained glass, first offers itself to the visitor. A
+large organ, by Cavallie-Col, rears its long brilliant pipes at one end
+of the hall to a level with the gallery of sculptured wood running round
+and forming a balcony on the first floor. At each corner is a knight
+in armor, helmet on head, and lance in hand, mounted on a charger, and
+covered with the heavy trappings of war. Cases full of objects of art of
+great value, bookshelves containing all the new books, are placed along
+the walls. A billiard-table and all sorts of games are lodged under
+the vast staircase. The broad bays which give admission to the
+reception-rooms and grand staircase are closed by tapestry of the
+fifteenth century, representing hunting scenes. Long cords of silk and
+gold loop back these marvellous hangings in the Italian style. Thick
+carpets, into which the feet sink, deaden the sound of footsteps.
+Spacious divans, covered with Oriental materials, are placed round the
+room.
+
+Over the chimney-piece, which is splendidly carved in woodwork, is a
+looking-glass in the Renaissance style, with a bronze and silver frame,
+representing grinning fawns and dishevelled nymphs. Benches are placed
+round the hearth, which is large enough to hold six people. Above
+the divans, on the walls, are large oil-paintings by old masters. An
+“Assumption,” by Jordaens, which is a masterpiece; “The Gamesters,” by
+Valentin; “A Spanish Family on Horseback,” painted by Velasquez; and the
+marvel of the collection--a “Holy Family,” by Francia, bought in Russia.
+Then, lower down, “A Young Girl with a Canary,” by Metzu; a “Kermesse,”
+ by Braurver, a perfect treasure, glitter, like the gems they are, in the
+midst of panoplies, between the high branches of palm-trees planted in
+enormous delft vases. A mysterious light filters into that fresh and
+picturesque apartment through the stained-glass windows.
+
+From the hall the left wing is reached, where the reception-rooms are,
+and one’s eyes are dazzled by the brightness which reigns there. It is
+like coming out from a cathedral into broad daylight. The furniture, of
+gilt wood and Genoese velvet, looks very bright. The walls are white
+and gold; and flowers are everywhere. At the end is Madame Desvarennes’s
+bedroom, because she does not like mounting stairs, and lives on
+the ground floor. Adjoining it is a conservatory, furnished as a
+drawing-room, and serving as a boudoir for the mistress of the house.
+
+The dining-room, the gun-room, and the smoking-room are in the right
+wing. The gun-room deserves a particular description. Four glass cases
+contain guns of every description and size of the best English and
+French manufacture. All the furniture is made of stags’ horns, covered
+with fox-skins and wolf-skins. A large rug, formed by four bears’ skins,
+with menacing snouts, showing their white teeth at the four corners,
+is in the centre of the room. On the walls are four paintings by
+Princeteau, admirably executed, and representing hunting scenes. Low
+couches, wide as beds, covered with gray cloth, invite the sportsmen to
+rest. Large dressing-rooms, fitted up with hot and cold water, invite
+them to refresh themselves with a bath. Everything has been done to suit
+the most fastidious taste. The kitchens are underground.
+
+On the first story are the principal rooms. Twelve bedrooms, with
+dressing-rooms, upholstered in chintz of charming design. From these,
+a splendid view of the park and country beyond may be obtained. In the
+foreground is a piece of water, bathing, with its rapid current, the
+grassy banks which border the wood, while the low-lying branches of
+the trees dip into the flood, on which swans, dazzlingly white, swim in
+stately fashion. Beneath an old willow, whose drooping boughs form
+quite a vault of pale verdure, a squadron of multicolored boats remain
+fastened to the balustrade of a landing stage. Through an opening in
+the trees you see in the distance fields of yellow corn, and in the near
+background, behind a row of poplars, ever moving like a flash of silver
+lightning, the Oise flows on between its low banks.
+
+This sumptuous dwelling, on the evening of the 14th of July, was in
+its greatest splendor. The trees of the park were lit up by brilliant
+Venetian lanterns; little boats glided on the water of the lake carrying
+musicians whose notes echoed through the air. Under a marquee, placed
+midway in the large avenue, the country lads and lasses were dancing
+with spirit, while the old people, more calm, were seated under the
+large trees enjoying the ample fare provided. A tremendous uproar of
+gayety reechoed through the night, and the sound of the cornet attracted
+the people to the ball.
+
+It was nine o’clock. Carriages were fast arriving with guests for the
+mansion. In the centre of the handsome hall, illuminated with electric
+light, stood Madame Desvarennes in full dress, having put off black
+for one day, doing honor to the arrivals. Behind her stood Marechal and
+Savinien, like two aides-de-camp, ready, at a sign, to offer their arms
+to the ladies, to conduct them to the drawing-rooms. The gathering was
+numerous. Merchant-princes came for Madame Desvarennes’s sake; bankers
+for Cayrol’s; and the aristocrats and foreign nobility for the Prince’s.
+An assemblage as opposed in ideas as in manners: some valuing only
+money, others high birth; all proud and elbowing each other with haughty
+assurance, speaking ill of each other and secretly jealous.
+
+There were heirs of dethroned kings; princes without portions, who were
+called Highness, and who had not the income of their fathers’ former
+chamberlains; millionaires sprung from nothing, who made a great
+show and who would have given half of their possessions for a single
+quartering of the arms of these great lords whom they affected to
+despise.
+
+Serge and Cayrol went from group to group; the one with his graceful and
+delicate elegance; the other with his good-humor, radiant and elated by
+the consciousness of his triumphs. Herzog had just arrived, accompanied
+by his daughter, a charming girl of sixteen, to whom Marechal had
+offered his arm. A whispering was heard when Herzog passed. He was
+accustomed to the effect which he produced in public, and quite calmly
+congratulated Cayrol.
+
+Serge had just introduced Micheline to Count Soutzko, a gray-haired old
+gentleman of military appearance, whose right sleeve was empty. He was
+a veteran of the Polish wars, and an old friend of Prince Panine’s, at
+whose side he had received the wounds which had so frightfully mutilated
+him. Micheline, smiling, was listening to flattering tales which the old
+soldier was relating about Serge. Cayrol, who had got rid of Herzog,
+was looking for Jeanne, who had just disappeared in the direction of the
+terrace.
+
+The rooms were uncomfortably warm, and many of the visitors had found
+their way to the terraces. Along the marble veranda, overlooking the
+lake, chairs had been placed. The ladies, wrapped in their lace scarfs,
+had formed into groups and were enjoying the delights of the beautiful
+evening. Bursts of subdued laughter came from behind fans, while the
+gentlemen talked in whispers. Above all this whispering was heard the
+distant sound of the cornet at the peasants’ ball.
+
+Leaning over the balustrade, in a shady corner, far from the noise which
+troubled him and far from the fete which hurt him, Pierre was dreaming.
+His eyes were fixed on the illuminations in the park, but he did not
+see them. He thought of his vanished hopes. Another was beloved by
+Micheline, and in a few hours he would take her away, triumphant
+and happy. A great sadness stole over the young man’s spirit; he was
+disgusted with life and hated humanity. What was to become of him now?
+His life was shattered; a heart like his could not love twice, and
+Micheline’s image was too deeply engraven on it for it ever to be
+effaced. Of what use was all the trouble he had taken to raise himself
+above others? A worthless fellow had passed that way and Micheline had
+yielded to him. Now it was all over!
+
+And Pierre asked himself if he had not taken a wrong view of things,
+and if it was not the idle and good-for-nothing fellows who were more
+prudent than he. To waste his life in superhuman works, to tire his mind
+in seeking to solve great problems, and to attain old age without other
+satisfaction than unproductive honors and mercenary rewards. Those who
+only sought happiness and joy--epicureans who drive away all care,
+all pain, and only seek to soften their existence, and brighten their
+horizon--were they not true sages? Death comes so quickly! And it is
+with astonishment that one perceives when the hour is at hand, that one
+has not lived! Then the voice of pride spoke to him: what is a man who
+remains useless, and does not leave one trace of his passage through the
+world by works or discoveries? And, in a state of fever, Pierre said to
+himself:
+
+“I will throw myself heart and soul into science; I will make my name
+famous, and I will make that ungrateful child regret me. She will
+see the difference between me and him whom she has chosen. She will
+understand that he is nobody, except by her money, whereas she would
+have been all by me.”
+
+A hand was placed on his shoulder; and Marechal’s affectionate voice
+said to him:
+
+“Well! what are you doing here, gesticulating like that?”
+
+Pierre turned round.
+
+Lost in his thoughts he had not heard his friend approaching.
+
+“All our guests have arrived,” continued Marechal. “I have only just
+been able to leave them and to come to you. I have been seeking you for
+more than a quarter of an hour. You are wrong to hide yourself; people
+will make remarks. Come toward the house; it is as well to show yourself
+a little; people might imagine things which they must not imagine.”
+
+“Eh! let them think what they like; what does it matter to me?” said
+Pierre, sadly. “My life is a blank.”
+
+“Your life may be a blank; but it is your duty not to let any one
+perceive it. Imitate the young Spartan, who smiled although the fox,
+hidden under his cloak, was gnawing his vitals. Let us avoid ridicule,
+my friend. In society there is nothing that provokes laughter more than
+a disappointed lover, who rolls his eyes about and looks woe-begone.
+And, then, you-see, suffering is a human law; the world is an arena,
+life is a conflict. Material obstacles, moral griefs, all hinder and
+overwhelm us. We must go on, though, all the same, and fight. Those who
+give in are trodden down! Come, pull yourself together!”
+
+“And for whom should I fight now? A moment ago I was making projects,
+but I was a fool! All hope and ambition are dead in me.”
+
+“Ambition will return, you may be sure! At present you are suffering
+from weariness of mind; but your strength will return. As to hope, one
+must never despair.”
+
+“What can I expect in the future?”
+
+“What? Why, everything! In this world all sorts of things happen!” said
+Marechal, gayly. “Who is to prove that the Princess will not be a widow
+soon?”
+
+Pierre could not help laughing and said,
+
+“Come, don’t talk such nonsense!”
+
+“My dear fellow,” concluded Marechal, “in life it is only nonsense that
+is common-sense. Come and smoke a cigar.”
+
+They traversed several groups of people and bent their steps in the
+direction of the chateau. The Prince was advancing toward the terrace,
+with an elegantly dressed and beautiful woman on his arm. Savinien, in
+the midst of a circle of dandies, was picking the passers-by to pieces
+in his easy-going way. Pierre and Marechal came behind these young men
+without being noticed.
+
+“Who is that hanging on the arm of our dear Prince?” asked a little fat
+man, girt in a white satin waistcoat, and a spray of white lilac in his
+buttonhole.
+
+“Eh! Why, Le Brede, my boy, you don’t know anything!” cried Savinien in
+a bantering, jocose tone.
+
+“Because I don’t know that lovely fair woman?” said Le Brede, in a
+piqued voice. “I don’t profess to know the names of all the pretty women
+in Paris!”
+
+“In Paris? That woman from Paris? You have not looked at her. Come, open
+your eyes. Pure English style, my friend.”
+
+The dandies roared with laughter. They had at once recognized the pure
+English style. They were not men to be deceived. One of them, a tall,
+dark fellow, named Du Tremblays, affected an aggrieved air, and said:
+
+“Le Brede, my dear fellow, you make us blush for you!”
+
+The Prince passed, smiling and speaking in a low voice to the beautiful
+Englishwoman, who was resting the tips of her white gloved fingers on
+her cavalier’s arm.
+
+“Who is she?” inquired Le Brede, impatiently.
+
+“Eh, my dear fellow, it is Lady Harton, a cousin of the Prince. She is
+extremely rich, and owns a district in London.”
+
+“They say that a year ago she was very kind to Serge Panine,” added Du
+Tremblays, confidentially.
+
+“Why did he not marry her, then, since she is so rich? He has been quite
+a year in the market, the dear Prince.”
+
+“She is married.”
+
+“Oh, that is a good reason. But where is her husband?”
+
+“Shut up in a castle in Scotland. Nobody ever sees him. He is out of his
+mind; and is surrounded by every attention.”
+
+“And a strait-waistcoat! Then why does not this pretty woman get a
+divorce?”
+
+“The money belongs to the husband.”
+
+“Really!”
+
+Pierre and Marechal had listened, in silence, to this cool and yet
+terrible conversation. The group of young men dispersed. The two
+friends looked at each other. Thus, then, Serge Panine was judged by his
+companions in pleasure, by the frequenters of the clubs in which he
+had spent a part of his existence. The Prince being “in the market” was
+obliged to marry a rich woman. He could not marry Lady Harton, so he had
+sought Micheline. And the sweet child was the wife of such a man! And
+what could be done? She loved him!
+
+Madame Desvarennes and Micheline appeared on the terrace. Lady Harton
+pointed to the bride with her fan. The Prince, leaving his companion,
+advanced toward Micheline.
+
+“One of my English relatives, a Polish lady, married to Lord Harton,
+wishes to be introduced to you,” said Serge. “Are you agreeable?”
+
+“With all my heart,” replied the young wife, looking lovingly at her
+husband. “All who belong to you are dear to me, you know.”
+
+The beautiful Englishwoman approached slowly.
+
+“The Princess Panine!” said Serge, gravely, introducing Micheline, who
+bowed gracefully. Then, with a shade of familiarity: “Lady Harton!”
+ continued he, introducing his relative.
+
+“I am very fond of your husband, Madame,” said the Englishwoman. “I hope
+you will allow me to love you also; and I beg you to grant me the favor
+of accepting this small remembrance.”
+
+While speaking, she unfastened from her wrist a splendid bracelet with
+the inscription, Semper.
+
+Serge frowned and looked stern. Micheline, lowering her eyes, and awed
+by the Englishwoman’s grandeur, timidly said:
+
+“I accept it, Madame, as a token of friendship.”
+
+“I think I recognize this bracelet, Madame,” observed Serge.
+
+“Yes; you gave it to me,” replied Lady Harton, quietly. “Semper--I beg
+your pardon, Madame, we Poles all speak Latin--Semper means ‘Always!’ It
+is a great word. On your wife’s arm this bracelet will be well placed.
+Au revoir, dear Prince. I wish you every happiness.”
+
+And bowing to Micheline with a regal bow, Lady Harton took the arm of a
+tall young man whom she had beckoned, and walked away.
+
+Micheline, amazed, looked at the bracelet sparkling on her white wrist.
+Without uttering a word Serge unfastened it, took it off his wife’s
+arm, and advancing on the terrace, with a rapid movement flung it in
+the water. The bracelet gleamed in the night-air and made a brilliant
+splash; then the water resumed its tranquillity. Micheline, astonished,
+looked at Serge, who came toward her, and very humbly said:
+
+“I beg your pardon.”
+
+The young wife did not answer, but her eyes filled with tears; a smile
+brightened her lips, and hurriedly taking his arm, she led him into the
+drawing-room.
+
+Dancing was going on there. The young ladies of Pontoise, and the cream
+of Creil, had come to the fete, bent on not losing such an opportunity
+of enjoying themselves. Under the watchful eyes of their mothers,
+who, decked out in grand array, were seated along the walls, they were
+gamboling, in spite of the stifling heat, with all the impetuosity of
+young provincials habitually deprived of the pleasures of the ballroom.
+Crossing the room, Micheline and Serge reached Madame Desvarennes’s
+boudoir.
+
+It was delightfully cool in there. Cayrol had taken refuge there
+with Jeanne, and Mademoiselle Susanne Herzog. This young girl felt
+uncomfortable at being a third party with the newly-married couple,
+and welcomed the arrival of the Prince and Micheline with pleasure. Her
+father had left her for a moment in Cayrol’s care; but she had not seen
+him for more than an hour.
+
+“Mademoiselle,” said the Prince, gayly, “a little while ago, when I
+was passing through the rooms, I heard these words: ‘Loan, discount,
+liquidation.’ Your father must have been there. Shall I go and seek
+him?”
+
+“I should be very grateful,” said the young girl.
+
+“I will go.”
+
+And turning lightly on his heels, happy to escape Jeanne’s looks, Serge
+reentered the furnace. At once he saw Herzog seated in the corner of
+a bay-window with one of the principal stock-brokers of Paris. He was
+speaking. The Prince went straight up to him.
+
+“Sorry to draw you away from the sweets of conversation,” said he,
+smiling; “but your daughter is waiting for you, and is anxious at your
+not coming.”
+
+“Faith! My daughter, yes. I will come and see you tomorrow,” said he to
+his companion. “We will talk over this association: there is much to be
+gained by it.”
+
+The other, a man with a bloated face, and fair Dundreary whiskers, was
+eager to do business with him. Certainly the affair was good.
+
+“Oh, my dear Prince, I am happy to be alone with you for a moment!” said
+Herzog, with that familiarity which was one of his means of becoming
+intimate with people. “I was going to compliment you! What a splendid
+position you have reached.”
+
+“Yes; I have married a charming woman,” replied the Prince, coldly.
+
+“And what a fortune!” insisted the financier. “Ah, it is worthy of the
+lot of a great lord such as you are! Oh, you are like those masterpieces
+of art which need a splendidly carved frame! Well, you have your frame,
+and well gilt too!”
+
+He laughed and seemed pleased at Serge’s happiness. He had taken one of
+his hands and was patting it softly between his own.
+
+“Not a very ‘convenient’ mother-in-law, for instance,” he went on,
+good-naturedly; “but you are so charming! Only you could have, coaxed
+Madame Desvarennes, and you have succeeded. Oh! she likes you, my dear
+Prince; she told me so only a little while ago. You have won her heart.
+I don’t know how you manage it, but you are irresistible! By the way, I
+was not there when the marriage contract was read, and I, forgot to ask
+Cayrol. Under what conditions are you married?”
+
+The Prince looked at Herzog with a look that was hardly friendly.
+But the financier appeared so indifferent, that Serge could not help
+answering him:
+
+“My wife’s fortune is settled on herself.”
+
+“Ah! ah! that is usual in Normandy!” replied Herzog with a grave look.
+“I was told Madame Desvarennes was a clever woman and she has proved it.
+And you signed the contract with your eyes shut, my dear Prince. It is
+perfect, just as a gentleman should do!”
+
+He said this with a good-natured air. Then, suddenly lifting his eyes,
+and with an ironical smile playing on his lips, he added:
+
+“You are bowled out, my dear fellow, don’t you know?”
+
+“Sir!” protested Serge with haughtiness.
+
+“Don’t cry out; it is too late, and would be useless,” replied the
+financier. “Let me explain your position to you. Your hands are tied.
+You cannot dispose of a sou belonging to your wife without her consent.
+It is true, you have influence over her, happily for you. Still you must
+foresee that she will be guided by her mother. A strong woman, too, the
+mother! Ah, Prince, you have allowed yourself to be done completely. I
+would not have thought it of you.”
+
+Serge, nonplussed for a moment, regained his self-possession, and looked
+Herzog in the face:
+
+“I don’t know what idea you have formed of me, sir, and I don’t know
+what object you have in speaking thus to me.”
+
+“My interest in you,” interrupted the financier. “You are a charming
+fellow: you please me much. With your tastes, it is possible that in a
+brief time you may be short of money. Come and see me: I will put you
+into the way of business. Au revoir, Prince.”
+
+And without giving Serge time to answer him, Herzog reached the boudoir
+where his daughter was waiting with impatience. Behind him came the
+Prince looking rather troubled. The financier’s words had awakened
+importunate ideas in his mind. Was it true that he had been duped
+by Madame Desvarennes, and that the latter, while affecting airs of
+greatness and generosity, had tied him like a noodle to her daughter’s
+apron-string? He made an effort to regain his serenity.
+
+“Micheline loves me and all will be well,” said he to himself.
+
+Madame Desvarennes joined the young married people. The rooms were
+clearing by degrees. Serge took Cayrol apart.
+
+“What are you going to do to-night, my dear fellow?
+
+“You know an apartment has been prepared for you here?”
+
+“Yes, I have already thanked Madame Desvarennes, but I mean to go back
+to Paris. Our little paradise is prepared for us, and I wish to enter it
+to-night. I have my carriage and horses here. I am taking away my wife
+post-haste.”
+
+“That is an elopement,” said Serge; gayly, “quite in the style of the
+regency!”
+
+“Yes, my dear Prince, that’s how we bankers do it,” said Cayrol,
+laughing.
+
+Then changing his tone:
+
+“See, I vibrate, I am palpitating. I am hot and cold by turns. Just
+fancy, I have never loved before; my heart is whole, and I love to
+distraction!”
+
+Serge instinctively glanced at Jeanne. She was seated, looking sad and
+tired.
+
+Madame Desvarennes, between Jeanne and Micheline, had her arms twined
+round the two young girls. Regret filled her eyes. The mother felt
+that the last moments of her absolute reign were near, and she was
+contemplating with supreme adoration these two children who had grown
+up around her like two fragile and precious flowers. She was saying to
+them,
+
+“Well, the great day is over. You are both married. You don’t belong to
+me any longer. How I shall miss you! This morning I had two children,
+and now--”
+
+“You have four,” interrupted Micheline. “Why do you complain?”
+
+“I don’t complain,” retorted Madame Desvarennes, quickly.
+
+“That’s right!” said Micheline, gayly.
+
+Then going toward Jeanne:
+
+“But you are not speaking, you are so quiet; are you ill?”
+
+Jeanne shuddered, and made an effort to soften the hard lines on her
+face.
+
+“It is nothing. A little fatigue.”
+
+“And emotion,” added Micheline. “This morning when we entered the
+church, at the sound of the organ, in the midst of flowers, surrounded
+by all our friends, I felt that I was whiter than my veil. And the
+crossing to my place seemed so long, I thought I should never get there.
+I did so, though. And now everybody calls me ‘Madame’ and some call me
+‘Princess.’ It amuses me!”
+
+Serge had approached.
+
+“But you are a Princess,” said he, smiling, “and everybody must call you
+so.”
+
+“Oh, not mamma, nor Jeanne, nor you,” said the young wife, quickly;
+“always call me Micheline. It will be less respectful, but it will be
+more tender.”
+
+Madame Desvarennes could not resist drawing her daughter once more to
+her heart.
+
+“Dear child,” she said with emotion, “you need affection, as flowers
+need the sun! But I love you, there.”
+
+She stopped and added:
+
+“We love you.”
+
+And she held out her hand to her son-in-law. Then changing the subject:
+
+“But I am thinking, Cayrol, as you are returning to Paris, you might
+take some orders for me which I will write out.”
+
+“What? Business? Even on my wedding-day?” exclaimed Micheline.
+
+“Eh! my daughter, we must have flour,” replied the mistress, laughing.
+“While we are enjoying ourselves Paris eats, and it has a famous
+appetite.”
+
+Micheline, leaving her mother, went to her husband.
+
+“Serge, it is not yet late. Suppose we put in an appearance at the
+work-people’s ball? I promised them, and the good folks will be so
+happy!”
+
+“As you please. I am awaiting your orders. Let us make ourselves
+popular!”
+
+Madame Desvarennes had gone to her room. Carol took the opportunity
+of telling his coachman to drive round by the park to the door of the
+little conservatory and wait there. Thus, his wife and he would avoid
+meeting any one, and would escape the leave-taking of friends and the
+curiosity of lookers-on.
+
+Micheline went up to Jeanne, and said:
+
+“As you are going away quietly, dear, I shall not see you again this
+evening. Adieu!”
+
+And with a happy smile, she kissed her. Then taking her husband’s arm
+she led him toward the park.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X. CAYROL’S DISAPPOINTMENT
+
+Jeanne left alone, watched them as they disappeared with the light and
+easy movements of lovers.
+
+Serge, bending toward Micheline, was speaking tenderly. A rush of bitter
+feeling caused Jeanne’s heart to swell. She was alone, she, while he
+whom she loved-her whole being revolted. Unhappy one! Why did she think
+of this man? Had she the right to do so now? She no longer belonged to
+herself. Another, who was as kind to her as Serge was ungrateful, was
+her husband. She thought thus in sincerity of heart. She wished to
+love Cayrol. Alas, poor Jeanne! She would load him with attentions and
+caresses! And Serge would be jealous, for he could never have forgotten
+her so soon.
+
+Her thoughts again turned to him whom she wished to forget. She made
+an effort, but in vain. Serge was uppermost; he possessed her. She was
+afraid. Would she never be able to break off the remembrance? Would his
+name be ever on her lips, his face ever before her eyes?
+
+Thank heaven! she was about to leave. Travelling, and the sight of
+strange places other than those where she had lived near Serge, would
+draw her attention from the persecution she suffered. Her husband was
+about to take her away, to defend her. It was his duty, and she would
+help him with energy. With all the strength of her will she summoned
+Cayrol. She clung violently to him as a drowning person catches at a
+straw, with the vigor of despair.
+
+There was between Jeanne and Cayrol a sympathetic communication.
+Mentally called by his wife, the husband appeared.
+
+“Ah! at last!” said she.
+
+Cayrol, surprised at this welcome, smiled. Jeanne, without noticing,
+added:
+
+“Well, Monsieur; are we leaving soon?”
+
+The banker’s surprise increased. But as this surprise was decidedly an
+agreeable one he did not protest.
+
+“In a moment, Jeanne, dear,” he said.
+
+“Why this delay?” asked the young wife, nervously.
+
+“You will understand. There are more than twenty carriages before the
+front door. Our coachman is driving round, and we will go out by the
+conservatory door without being seen.”
+
+“Very well; we will wait.”
+
+This delay displeased Jeanne. In the ardor of her resolution, in the
+first warmth of her struggle, she wished at once to put space between
+her and Serge. Unfortunately, Cayrol had thwarted this effort of proud
+revolt. She was vexed with him. He, without knowing the motives which
+actuated his wife, guessed that something had displeased her. He wished
+to change the current of her thoughts.
+
+“You were marvellously beautiful to-night,” he said, approaching her
+gallantly. “You were much admired, and I was proud of you. If you had
+heard my friends! It was a concert of congratulations: What a fortunate
+fellow that Cayrol is! He is rich; he has a charming wife! You see,
+Jeanne, thanks to you, in the eyes of all, my happiness is complete.”
+
+Jeanne frowned, and without answering, shook her head haughtily. Cayrol
+continued, without noticing this forecast of a storm:
+
+“They envy me; and I can understand it! I would not change places with
+anybody. There, our friend Prince Panine is very happy; he has married
+a woman whom he loves and who adores him. Well, he is not happier than I
+am!”
+
+Jeanne rose abruptly, and gave her husband a terrible look.
+
+“Monsieur!” she cried with rage.
+
+“I beg your pardon,” said Cayrol, humbly; “I appear ridiculous to you,
+but my happiness is stronger than I am, and I cannot hide my joy. You
+will see that I can be grateful. I will spend my life in trying to
+please you. I have a surprise for you to begin with.”
+
+“What kind of surprise?” asked Jeanne, with indifference.
+
+Cayrol rubbed his hands with a mysterious air. He was enjoying
+beforehand the pleasant surprise he had in store for his wife.
+
+“You think we are going to Paris to spend our honeymoon like ordinary
+folk?”
+
+Jeanne started. Cayrol seemed unfortunate in his choice of words.
+
+“Well, not at all,” continued the banker. “Tomorrow I leave my offices.
+My customers may say what they like; I will leave my business, and we
+are off.”
+
+Jeanne showed signs of pleasure. A flash of joy lit up her face. To go
+away, that was rest for her!
+
+“And where shall we go?”
+
+“That is the surprise! You know that the Prince and his wife intend
+travelling!”
+
+“Yes; but they refused to say where they were going;” interrupted
+Jeanne, with a troubled expression.
+
+“Not to me. They are going to Switzerland. Well, we shall join them
+there.”
+
+Jeanne arose like a startled deer when it hears the sound of a gun.
+
+“Join them there!” she exclaimed.
+
+“Yes; to continue the journey together. A party of four; two
+newly-married couples. It will be charming. I spoke to Serge on the
+subject. He objected at first, but the Princess came to my assistance.
+And when he saw that his wife and I were agreed, he commenced to laugh,
+and said: ‘You wish it? I consent. Don’t say anything more!’ It is
+all very well to talk of love’s solitude; in about a fortnight, passed
+tete-a-tete, Serge will be glad to have us. We will go to Italy to see
+the lakes; and there, in a boat, all four, of us will have such pleasant
+times.”
+
+Cayrol might have gone on talking for an hour, but Jeanne was not
+listening. She was thinking. Thus all the efforts which she had
+decided to make to escape from him whom she loved would be useless. An
+invincible fatality ever brought her toward him whom she was seeking
+to avoid. And it was her husband who was aiding this inevitable
+and execrable meeting. A bitter smile played on her lips. There was
+something mournfully comic in this stubbornness of Cayrol’s, in throwing
+her in the way of Serge.
+
+Cayrol, embarrassed by Jeanne’s silence, waited a moment.
+
+“What is the matter?” he asked. “You are just like the Prince when I
+spoke to him on the subject.”
+
+Jeanne turned away abruptly. Cayrol’s comparison was too direct. His
+blunders were becoming wearisome.
+
+The banker, quite discomfited on seeing the effect of his words,
+continued:
+
+“You object to this journey? If so, I am willing to give it up.”
+
+The young wife was touched by this humble servility.
+
+“Well, yes,” she said, softly, “I should be grateful to you.”
+
+“I had hoped to please you,” said Cayrol. “It is for me to beg pardon
+for having succeeded so badly. Let us remain in Paris. It does not
+matter to me what place we are in! Being near to you is all I desire.”
+
+He approached her, and, with beaming eyes, added:
+
+“You are so beautiful, Jeanne; and I have loved you so long a time!”
+
+She moved away, full of a vague dread. Cayrol, very excitedly, put her
+cloak round her shoulders, and looking toward the door, added:
+
+“The carriage is there, we can go now.”
+
+Jeanne, much troubled, did not rise.
+
+“Wait another minute,” said she.
+
+Cayrol smiled constrainedly:
+
+“A little while ago you were hurrying me off.”
+
+It was true. But a sudden change had come over Jeanne. Her energy had
+given way. She felt very weary. The idea of going away with Cayrol,
+and of being alone with him in the carriage frightened her. She looked
+vaguely at her husband, and saw, in a sort of mist, this great fat man,
+with a protruding shirt-front, rolls of red flesh on his neck above his
+collar, long fat ears which only needed gold ear-rings, and his great
+hairy hands, on the finger of one of which shone the new wedding-ring.
+Then, in a rapid vision, she beheld the refined profile, the beautiful
+blue eyes, and the long, fair mustache of Serge. A profound sadness came
+over the young woman, and tears rushed to her eyes.
+
+“What is the matter with you? You are crying!” exclaimed Cayrol,
+anxiously.
+
+“It is nothing; my nerves are shaken. I am thinking of this chateau
+which bears my name. Here I spent my youth, and here my father died. A
+thousand ties bind me to this dwelling, and I cannot leave it without
+being overcome.”
+
+“Another home awaits you, luxuriantly adorned,” murmured Cayrol, “and
+worthy of receiving you. It is there you will live henceforth with me,
+happy through me, and belonging to me.”
+
+Then, ardently supplicating her, he added:
+
+“Let us go, Jeanne!”
+
+He tried to take her in his arms, but the young wife disengaged herself.
+
+“Leave me alone!” she said, moving away.
+
+Cayrol looked at her in amazement.
+
+“What is it? You are trembling and frightened!”
+
+He tried to jest:
+
+“Am I so very terrible, then? Or is it the idea of leaving here that
+troubles you so much? If so, why did you not tell me sooner? I can
+understand things. Let us remain here for a few days, or as long as
+you like. I have arranged my affairs so as to be at liberty. Our little
+paradise can wait for us.”
+
+He spoke pleasantly, but with an undercurrent of anxiety.
+
+Jeanne came slowly to him, and calmly taking his hand, said:
+
+“You are very good.”
+
+“I am not making any efforts to be so,” retorted Cayrol, smiling. “What
+do I ask? That you may be happy and satisfied.”
+
+“Well, do you wish to please me?” asked the young wife.
+
+“Yes!” exclaimed Cayrol, warmly, “tell me how.”
+
+“Madame Desvarennes will be very lonely tomorrow when her daughter will
+be gone. She will need consoling--”
+
+“Ah, ah,” said Cayrol, thinking that he understood, “and you would
+like--”
+
+“I would like to remain some time with her. You could come every day and
+see us. I would be very grateful to you, and would love you very much!”
+
+“But--but--but--!” exclaimed Cayrol, much confounded, “you cannot mean
+what you say, Jeanne! What, my dear? You wish me to return alone to
+Paris to-night? What would my servants say? You would expose me to
+ridicule!”
+
+Poor Cayrol made a piteous face. Jeanne looked at him as she had never
+looked before. It made his blood boil.
+
+“Would you be so very ridiculous for having been delicate and tender?”
+
+“I don’t see what tenderness has to do with it,” cried Cayrol; “on the
+contrary! But I love you. You don’t seem to think it!”
+
+“Prove it,” replied Jeanne, more provokingly.
+
+This time Cayrol lost all patience.
+
+“Is it in leaving you that I shall prove it? Really, Jeanne, I am
+disposed to be kind and to humor your whims, but on condition that they
+are reasonable. You seem to be making fun of me! If I give way on such
+important points on the day of our marriage, whither will you lead me?
+No; no! You are my wife. The wife must follow her husband; the law says
+so!”
+
+“Is it by law only that you wish to keep me? Have you forgotten what I
+told you when you made me an offer of marriage? It is my hand only which
+I give you.”
+
+“And I answered you, that it would be my aim to gain your heart. Well,
+but give me the means. Come, dear,” said the banker in a resolute tone,
+“you take me for a child. I am not so simple as that! I know what this
+resistance means; charming modesty so long as it is not everlasting.”
+
+Jeanne turned away without answering. Her face had changed its
+expression; it was hard and determined.
+
+“Really,” continued Cayrol, “you would make a saint lose patience. Come,
+answer me, what does this attitude mean?”
+
+The young wife remained silent. She felt she could not argue any longer,
+and seeing no way out of her trouble, felt quite discouraged. Still she
+would not yield. She shuddered at the very idea of belonging to this
+man; she had never thought of the issue of this brutal and vulgar
+adventure. Now that she realized it, she felt terribly disgusted.
+
+Cayrol anxiously watched the increasing anguish depicted on his wife’s
+face. He had a presentiment that she was hiding something from him, and
+the thought nearly choked him. And, with this suspicion, his ingenuity
+came to his aid. He approached Jeanne, and said, affectionately:
+
+“Come, dear child, we are misleading one another; I in speaking too
+harshly, you in refusing to understand me. Forget that I am your
+husband; see in me only a friend and open your heart; your resistance
+hides a mystery. You have had some grief or have been deceived.”
+
+Jeanne, softened, said, in a low tone:
+
+“Don’t speak to me like that; leave me.”
+
+“No,” resumed Cayrol, quietly, “we are beginning life; there must be no
+misunderstanding. Be frank, and you will find me indulgent. Come, young
+girls are often romantic. They picture an ideal; they fall in love with
+some one who does not return their love, which is sometimes even unknown
+to him who is their hero. Then, suddenly, they have to return to a
+reality. They find themselves face to face with a husband who is not
+the expected Romeo, but who is a good man, devoted, loving, and ready to
+heal the wounds he has not made. They are afraid of this husband; they
+mistrust him, and will not follow him. It is wrong, because it is
+near him, in honorable and right existence, that they find peace and
+forgetfulness.”
+
+Cayrol’s heart was torn by anxiety, and with trembling voice he tried to
+read the effect of his words on Jeanne’s features. She had turned away.
+Cayrol bent toward her and said:
+
+“You don’t answer me.”
+
+And as she still remained silent, he took her hand and forced her to
+look at him. He saw that her face was covered with tears. He shuddered,
+and then flew into a terrible passion.
+
+“You are crying! It is true then? You have loved?”
+
+Jeanne rose with a bound; she saw her imprudence. She understood the
+trap he had laid; her cheeks burned. Drying her tears, she turned toward
+Cayrol, and cried:
+
+“Who has said so?”
+
+“You cannot deceive me,” replied the banker, violently. “I saw it in
+your looks. Now, I want to know the man’s name!”
+
+Jeanne looked him straight in the face.
+
+“Never!” she said.
+
+“Ah, that is an avowal!” exclaimed Cayrol.
+
+“You have deceived me unworthily by your pretended kindness,”
+ interrupted Jeanne, proudly, “I will not say anything more.”
+
+Cayrol flew at her--the churl reappeared. He muttered a fearful oath,
+and seizing her by the arm, shouted:
+
+“Take care! Don’t play with me. Speak, I insist, or--” and he shook her
+brutally.
+
+Jeanne, indignant, screamed and tore herself away from him.
+
+“Leave me,” she said, “you fill me with horror!”
+
+The husband, beside himself, pale as death and trembling convulsively,
+could not utter a word, and was about to rush upon her when the door
+opened, and Madame Desvarennes appeared, holding in her hand the letters
+which she had written for Cayrol to take back to Paris. Jeanne uttered a
+cry of joy, and with a bound threw herself into the arms of her who had
+been a mother to her.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI. CONFESSION
+
+Madame Desvarennes understood the situation at a glance. She beheld
+Cayrol livid, tottering, and excited. She felt Jeanne trembling on her
+breast; she saw something serious had occurred. She calmed herself and
+put on a cold manner to enable her the better to suppress any resistance
+that they might offer.
+
+“What is the matter?” she asked, looking severely at Cayrol.
+
+“Something quite unexpected,” replied the banker, laughing nervously.
+“Madame refuses to follow me.”
+
+“And for what reason?” she asked.
+
+“She dare not speak!” Cayrol resumed, whose excitement increased as he
+spoke. “It appears she has in her heart an unhappy love! And as I do not
+resemble the dreamed-of type, Madame has repugnances. But you understand
+the affair is not going to end there. It is not usual to come and say
+to a husband, twelve hours after marriage, ‘Sir, I am very sorry, but I
+love somebody else!’ It would be too convenient. I shall not lend myself
+to these whims.”
+
+“Cayrol, oblige me by speaking in a lower tone,” said Madame
+Desvarennes, quietly. “There is some misunderstanding between you and
+this child.”
+
+The husband shrugged his broad shoulders.
+
+“A misunderstanding? Faith! I think so! You have a delicacy of language
+which pleases me! A misunderstanding! Say rather a shameful deception!
+But I want to know the gentleman’s name. She will have to speak. I am
+not a scented, educated gentleman. I am a peasant, and if I have to--”
+
+“Enough,” said Madame Desvarennes, sharply tapping with the tips of
+her fingers Cayrol’s great fist which he held menacingly like a butcher
+about to strike. Then, taking him quietly aside toward the window, she
+added:
+
+“You are a fool to go on like this! Go to my room for a moment. To you,
+now, she will not say anything; to me she will confide all and we shall
+know what to do.”
+
+Cayrol’s face brightened.
+
+“You are right,” he said. “Yes, as ever, you are right. You must excuse
+rile, I do not know how to talk to women. Rebuke her and put a little
+sense in her head. But don’t leave her; she is fit to commit any folly.”
+
+Madame Desvarennes smiled.
+
+“Be easy,” she answered.
+
+And making a sign to Cayrol, who was leaving the room, she returned to
+Jeanne.
+
+“Come, my child, compose yourself. We are alone and you will tell me
+what happened. Among women we understand each other. Come, you were
+frightened, eh?”
+
+Jeanne was one petrified, immovable, and dumb, she fixed her eyes on a
+flower which was hanging from a vase. This red flower fascinated her.
+She could not take her eyes off it. Within her a persistent thought
+recurred: that of her irremediable misfortune. Madame Desvarennes looked
+at her for a moment; then, gently touching her shoulder, resumed;
+
+“Won’t you answer me? Have you not confidence in me? Have I not brought
+you up? And if you are not born of me, have not the tenderness and care
+I have lavished upon you made me your real mother?”
+
+Jeanne did not answer, but her eyes filled with tears;
+
+“You know that I love you,” continued the mistress. “Come, come to my
+arms as you used to do when you were little and were suffering. Place
+your head thereon my heart and let your tears flow. I see they are
+choking you.”
+
+Jeanne could no longer resist, and falling on her knees beside Madame
+Desvarennes, she buried her face in the silky and scented folds of her
+dress like a frightened bird that flies to the nest and hides itself
+under the wings of its mother.
+
+This great and hopeless grief was to the mistress a certain proof that
+Cayrol was right. Jeanne had loved and still loved another man than
+her husband. But why had she not said anything, and why had she allowed
+herself to be married to the banker? She had resisted, she remembered
+now. She had struggled, and the refusals they had put down to pride they
+must now attribute to passion.
+
+She did not wish to be separated from him whom she loved. Hence the
+struggle that had ended in her abandoning her hand to Cayrol, perhaps
+in a moment of despair and discouragement. But why had he whom she loved
+not married her? What obstacle had arisen between him and the young
+girl? Jeanne, so beautiful, and dowered by Madame Desvarennes, who then
+could have hesitated to ask her hand?
+
+Perhaps he whom Jeanne loved was unworthy of her? No! She would not have
+chosen him. Perhaps he was not free to marry? Yes, it must be that.
+Some married man, perhaps! A scoundrel who did not mind breaking a young
+girl’s heart! Where had she met him? In society at her house in the Rue
+Saint-Dominique, perhaps! Who could tell? He very likely still continued
+to come there. At the thought Madame Desvarennes grew angry. She wished
+to know the name of the man so that she might have an explanation with
+him, and tell him what she thought of his base conduct. The gentleman
+should have respectable, well-educated girls to trifle with, should he?
+And he risked nothing! He should be shown to the door with all honors
+due to his shameful conduct.
+
+Jeanne was still weeping silently at Madame Desvarennes’s knee. The
+latter raised her head gently and wiped away the tears with her lace
+pocket-handkerchief.
+
+“Come, my child! all this deluge means nothing. You must make up your
+mind. I can understand your hiding anything from your husband, but not
+from me! What is your lover’s name?”
+
+This question so simply put, threw a faint light on Jeanne’s troubled
+brain. She saw the danger she was running. To speak before Madame
+Desvarennes! To tell the name of him who had been false to her! To
+her! Was it possible? In a moment she understood that she was about to
+destroy Micheline and Serge. Her conscience revolted and she would
+not. She raised herself and looking at Madame Desvarennes with still
+frightened eyes,
+
+“For pity’s sake, forget my tears! Don’t believe what my husband
+has told you. Never seek to know. Remain ignorant as you are on the
+subject!”
+
+“Then he whom you love is related to me, as: you wish to hide his name
+even from me,” said Madame Desvarennes with instinctive anguish.
+
+She was silent. Her eyes became fixed. They looked without seeing. She
+was thinking.
+
+“I beseech you,” cried Jeanne, madly placing her hands before Madame
+Desvarennes’s face as if to check her scrutiny.
+
+“If I had a son,” continued the mistress, “I would believe--” Suddenly
+she ceased speaking; she became pale, and bending toward Jeanne, she
+looked into her very soul.
+
+“Is it--” she began.
+
+“No! no!” interrupted Jeanne, terrified at seeing that the mistress had
+found out the truth.
+
+“You deny it before I have pronounced the name?” said Madame Desvarennes
+in a loud voice. “You read it then on my lips? Unhappy girl! The man
+whom you love is the husband of my daughter!”
+
+My daughter! The accent with which Madame Desvarennes pronounced the
+word “my” was full of tragical power. It revealed the mother capable
+of doing anything to defend the happiness of the child whom she
+adored. Serge had calculated well. Between Jeanne and Micheline, Madame
+Desvarennes would not hesitate. She would have allowed the world to
+crumble away to make of its ruins a shelter where her daughter would be
+joyous and happy.
+
+Jeanne had fallen back overwhelmed. The mistress raised her roughly.
+She had no more consideration for her. It was necessary that she should
+speak. Jeanne was the sole witness, and if the truth had to be got by
+main force she should be made to speak it.
+
+“Ah, forgive me!” moaned the young girl.
+
+“It is not a question of that! In one word, answer me: Does he love
+you?”
+
+“Do I know?”
+
+“Did he tell you he did?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“And he has married Micheline!” exclaimed Madame Desvarennes, with a
+fearful gesture. “I distrusted him. Why did I not obey my instinct?”
+
+And she began walking about like a lioness in a cage. Then, suddenly
+stopping and placing herself before Jeanne, she continued:
+
+“You must help me to save Micheline!”
+
+She thought only of her own flesh and blood. Without hesitation,
+unconsciously, she abandoned the other--the child of adoption. She
+claimed the safety of her daughter as a debt.
+
+“What has she to fear?” asked Jeanne, bitterly. “She triumphs, as she is
+his wife.”
+
+“If he were to abandon her,” said the mother with anguish. Then,
+reflecting: “Still, he has sworn to me that he loved her.”
+
+“He lied!” cried Jeanne, with rage. “He wanted Micheline for her
+fortune!”
+
+“But why that?” inquired Madame Desvarennes, menacingly. “Is she not
+pretty enough to have pleased him? Do you think that you are the only
+one to be loved?”
+
+“If I had been rich he would have married me!”, replied Jeanne,
+exasperated.
+
+She had risen in revolt. They were treading too heavily on her. With a
+ferocious cry of triumph; she added:
+
+“The night he used his influence with me to get me to marry Cayrol, he
+assured me so on his word of honor!”
+
+“Honor!” ironically repeated Madame Desvarennes, overwhelmed. “How
+he has deceived us all! But what can I do? What course can I take? A
+separation? Micheline would not consent. She loves him.”
+
+And, in an outburst of fury, she cried:
+
+“Is it possible that that stupid girl loves that worthless dandy? And
+she has my blood in her veins! If she knew the truth she would die!”
+
+“Am I dead?” asked Jeanne, gloomily.
+
+“You have an energetic nature,” retorted the mistress, compassionately;
+“but she is so weak, so gentle! Ah! Jeanne, think what I have been to
+you; raise some insurmountable barrier between yourself and Serge!
+
+“Go back to your husband. You would not go with him a little while ago.
+It was folly. If you separate from Cayrol, you will not be able to keep
+away Serge, and you will take my daughter’s husband from her!”
+
+“Ah! you think only of her! Her, always! She above all!” cried Jeanne,
+with rage. “But me, I exist, I count, I have the right to be protected,
+of being happy! And you wish me to sacrifice myself, to give myself up
+to this man, whom I do not love, and who terrifies me?”
+
+This time the question was plainly put. Madame Desvarennes became
+herself. She straightened her figure, and in her commanding voice whose
+authority no one resisted, said:
+
+“What then? You wish to be separated from him? To regain your liberty at
+the price of scandal? And what liberty? You will be repulsed, disdained.
+Believe me, impose silence on your heart and listen to your reason. Your
+husband is a good, loyal man. If you cannot love him, he will command
+your respect. In marrying him, you have entered into engagements toward
+him. Fulfil them; it is your duty.”
+
+Jeanne felt overpowered and vanquished. “But what will my life be?” she
+groaned.
+
+“That of an honest woman,” replied Madame Desvarennes, with true
+grandeur. “Be a wife; God will make you a mother, and you will be
+saved.”
+
+Jeanne bowed herself at these words. She no longer felt in them the
+selfishness of the mother. What the mistress now said was sincere and
+true. It was no longer her agitated and alarmed heart that inspired her;
+it was her conscience, calm and sincere.
+
+“Very well; I will obey you,” said the young wife, simply. “Kiss me
+then, mother.”
+
+She bent her brow, and Madame Desvarennes let tears of gratitude and
+admiration fall on it. Then Jeanne went of her own accord to the room
+door.
+
+“Come, Monsieur,” called she to Cayrol.
+
+The husband, grown cooler while waiting, and troubled at the length of
+the interview, showed his anxious face on the threshold. He saw Madame
+Desvarennes grave, and Jeanne collected. He dared not speak.
+
+“Cayrol, everything is explained,” said the mistress. “You have nothing
+to fear from him whom you suspected. He is separated from Jeanne
+forever, And; besides, nothing has passed between him and her who is
+your wife that could arouse your jealousy. I will not tell you the name
+of this man now. But if perchance he by some impossibility reappeared
+and threatened your happiness, I would myself--you understand,
+me?--point him out to you!”
+
+Cayrol remained thinking for, a moment; then addressing Madame
+Desvarennes, replied:
+
+“It is well. I have confidence in you.”
+
+Then turning toward Jeanne, he added:
+
+“Forgive me and let everything be forgotten.”
+
+The mistress’s face beamed with joy, as she followed their departing
+figures with her eyes, and murmured:
+
+“Brave hearts!”
+
+Then, changing her expression:
+
+“Now for the other one!” exclaimed she.
+
+And she went out on to the terrace.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII. THE FETE
+
+The air was mild, the night clear and bright. Cayrol’s carriage rolled
+rapidly along the broad avenue of the park shadowed by tall trees,
+the lanterns throwing, as they passed, their quivering light on the
+thickets. The rumbling carriages took the last guests to the railway
+station. It was past midnight. A nightingale began singing his song of
+love to the stars.
+
+Madame Desvarennes mechanically stopped to listen. A sense of sorrow
+came over this mother who was a prey to the most cruel mental anguish.
+She thought that she could have been very happy on that splendid night,
+if her heart had been full of quietude and serenity. Her two daughters
+were married; her last task was accomplished. She ought to have
+nothing to do but enjoy life after her own fashioning, and be calm and
+satisfied. Instead of that, here were fear and dissimulation taking
+possession of her mind; and an ardent, pitiless struggle beginning
+against the man who had deceived her daughter and lied to her. The bark
+which carried her fortune, on reaching port, had caught fire, and it was
+necessary to begin laboring again amid cares and pains.
+
+A dull rage filled her heart. To have so surely built up the edifice
+of her happiness, to have embellished it every hour, and then to see an
+intruder audaciously taking possession of it, and making his despotic
+and hateful authority prevail! And what could she do against this new
+master? Nothing. He was marvellously protected by Micheline’s mad
+love for him. To strike Serge would be to wound Micheline, surely
+and mortally. So this scoundrel could laugh at her and dare her with
+impunity!
+
+What must she do? Take him aside and tell him that she knew of his
+disloyal conduct, and tell him of her contempt and hatred for him? And
+after that? What would be the consequence of this outburst of violence?
+The Prince, using his power over Micheline, would separate the daughter
+from the mother. And Madame Desvarennes would be alone in her corner,
+abandoned like a poor dog, and would die of despair and anger. What
+other course then? She must dissemble, mask her face with indifference,
+if possible with tenderness, and undertake the difficult task of
+separating Micheline from the man whom she adored. It was quite a feat
+of strategy to plan. To bring out the husband’s faults and to make his
+errors known, and give her the opportunity of proving his worthlessness.
+In a word, to make the young wife understand that she had married an
+elegant manikin, unworthy of her love.
+
+It would be an easy matter to lay snares for Serge. He was a gambler.
+She could let him have ready money to satisfy his passion. Once in the
+clutches of the demon of play, he would neglect his wife, and the mother
+might regain a portion of the ground she had lost. Micheline’s
+fortune once broken into, she would interpose between her daughter and
+son-in-law. She would make him pull up, and holding him tightly by her
+purse strings, would lead him whither she liked.
+
+Already in fancy she saw her authority regained, and her daughter, her
+treasure, her life, true mistress of the situation, grateful to her
+for having saved her. And then, she thought, a baby will come, and if
+Micheline is really my daughter, she will adore the little thing, and
+the blind love which she has given to her husband will be diminished by
+so much.
+
+Serge did not know what an adversary he had against him in his
+mother-in-law. It was a bad thing to cross the mistress when business
+matters were concerned, but now that her daughter’s happiness was at
+stake! A smile came to her lips. A firm resolution from that hour must
+guide her, and the struggle between her son-in-law and herself could
+only end by the crushing of one of them.
+
+In the distance the music from the work-people’s ball was heard. Madame
+Desvarennes mechanically bent her steps toward the tent under which the
+heavy bounds of the dancers reechoed. Every now and then large shadows
+appeared on the canvas. A joyful clamor issued from the ballroom. Loud
+laughter resounded, mingled with piercing cries of tickled women.
+
+The voice of the master of the ceremonies could be heard jocose and
+solemn: “La poule! Advance! Set to partners!” Then the stamping of heavy
+shoes on the badly planed floor, and, above all, the melancholy sounds
+of the clarionet and the shrill notes of the cornet were audible.
+
+At the entrance of the ballroom, surrounded by tables and stools, two
+barrels of wine on stands presented their wooden taps, ready for those
+who wanted to quench their thirst. A large red mark under each
+barrel showed that the hands of the drinkers wire no longer steady. A
+cake-seller had taken up his place at the other side, and was kneading a
+last batch of paste, while his apprentice was ringing a bell which hung
+over the iron cooking-stove to attract customers. There was an odor of
+rancid butter, spilled wine, and paraffin oil.
+
+Adjoining the ballroom, a merry-go-round; which had been the delight
+of the village urchins all day, appealed for custom by the aid of a
+barrel-organ on which a woman in a white bodice was playing the waltz
+from ‘Les Cloches de Corneville’.
+
+The animation of this fete, in the midst of which Madame Desvarennes
+suddenly appeared, was a happy diversion from the serious thoughts which
+beset her. She remembered that Serge and Micheline must be there.
+She came from under the shadow of the avenue into the full light. On
+recognizing her, all the workpeople, who were seated, rose. She was
+really mistress and lady of the place. And then she had fed these people
+since morning. With a sign she bade them be seated, and walking quickly
+toward the dancing-room, lifted the red and white cotton curtain which
+hung over the entrance.
+
+There, in a space of a hundred square yards or so, about a hundred and
+fifty people were sitting or standing. At the end, on a stage, were
+the musicians, each with a bottle of wine at his feet, from which they
+refreshed themselves during the intervals. An impalpable dust, raised
+by the feet of the dancers, filled the air charged with acrid odors.
+The women in light dresses and bareheaded, and the men arrayed in their
+Sunday clothes, gave themselves up with frantic ardor to their favorite
+pleasure.
+
+Ranged in double rows, vis-a-vis, they were waiting with impatience for
+the music to strike up for the last figure. Near the orchestra, Serge
+was dancing with the Mayor’s daughter opposite Micheline, whose partner
+was the mayor himself. An air of joyful gravity lit up the municipal
+officer’s face. He was enjoying the honor which the Princess had done
+him. His pretty young daughter, dressed, in her confirmation dress,
+which had been lengthened with a muslin flounce, a rose in her hair, and
+her hands encased in straw-colored one-button kid gloves, hardly dared
+raise her eyes to the Prince, and with burning cheeks, answered in
+monosyllables the few remarks Serge felt forced to address to her.
+
+The orchestra bellowed, the floor shook; the two lines of dancers had
+advanced in a body. Madame Desvarennes, leaning against the door-post,
+followed with her eyes her daughter, whose light footsteps contrasted
+strangely with the heavy tread of the women around her. The mayor, eager
+and respectful, followed her, making efforts to keep up with her without
+treading on her long train. It was,
+
+“Excuse me, Madame la Princesse. If Madame la Princesse will do me the
+honor to give me her hand, it is our turn to cross.”
+
+They had just crossed. Serge suddenly found himself facing his
+mother-in-law. His face lit up, and he uttered a joyful exclamation.
+Micheline raised her eyes, and following her husband’s look, perceived
+her mother. Then it was a double joy. With a mischievous wink, Serge
+called Madame Desvarennes’s attention to the mayor’s solemn appearance
+as he was galloping with Micheline, also the comical positions of the
+rustics.
+
+Micheline was smiling. She was enjoying herself. All this homely
+gayety, of which she was the cause, made her feel happy. She enjoyed the
+pleasure of those around her. With her compassionate eyes she thanked
+her mother in the distance for having prepared this fete in honor of her
+marriage. The clarionet, violin, and cornet sounded a last modulation,
+then the final cadence put an end to the bounds of the dances. Each took
+his lady to her place--the mayor with pompous gait, Serge with as much
+grace as if he had been at an ambassador’s ball and was leading a young
+lady of highest rank.
+
+Madame Desvarennes was suddenly surrounded; cheers resounded, the band
+struck up the Marseillaise.
+
+“Let us escape,” said Serge, “because these good people will think
+nothing of carrying us in triumph.”
+
+And leading away his mother-in-law and his wife, he left the ballroom
+followed by cheers.
+
+Outside they all three walked in silence. The night air was delightful
+after coming out of that furnace. The cheering had ceased, and the
+orchestra was playing a polka. Micheline had taken her husband’s arm.
+
+They went along slowly, and close together. Not a word was exchanged;
+they all three seemed to be listening within themselves. When they
+reached the house, they went up the steps leading into the greenhouse,
+which served also as a boudoir to Madame Desvarennes.
+
+The atmosphere was still warm and scented, the lamps still burning. The
+guests had left; Micheline looked round. The remembrance of this happy
+evening, which had been the crowning of her happiness, filled her heart
+with emotion. Turning toward her mother with a radiant face, she cried:
+
+“Ah! mamma! I am so happy,” and threw her arms around her.
+
+Serge started at this cry. Two tears came to his eyes, and looking a
+little pale, he stretched out to Madame Desvarennes his hands, which she
+felt trembling in hers, and said:
+
+“Thank you.”
+
+Madame Desvarennes gazed at him for a moment. She did not see the
+shadow of a wicked thought on his brow. He was sincerely affected, truly
+grateful. The idea occurred to her that Jeanne had deceived her, or had
+deceived herself, and that Serge had not loved her. A feeling of relief
+took possession of her. But distrust had unfortunately entered her mind.
+She put away that flattering hope. And giving her son-in-law such a
+look, which, had he been less moved, he would have understood, she
+murmured,
+
+“We shall see.”
+
+
+
+
+BOOK 3.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+THE FIRST BREAK
+
+The first two months of this union were truly enchanting. Serge and
+Micheline never left each other. After an absence of eight days they had
+returned to Paris with Madame Desvarennes, and the hitherto dull mansion
+in the Rue Saint-Dominique was filled with joyful bustle. The splendid
+stables, formerly too large for the mistress’s three horses, were now
+insufficient for the service of the Prince. There were eight splendid
+carriage-horses, a pair of charming ponies--bought especially for
+Micheline’s use, but which the young wife had not been able to make up
+her mind to drive herself--four saddle-horses, upon which every morning
+about eight o’clock, when the freshness of night had perfumed the Bois
+de Boulogne, the young people took their ride round the lake.
+
+A bright sun made the sheet of water sparkle between its borders of
+dark fir-trees; the fresh air played in Micheline’s veil, and the tawny
+leather of the saddles creaked. Those were happy days for Micheline, who
+was delighted at having Serge near her, attentive to her every want, and
+controlling his thoroughbred English horse to her gentle pace. Every now
+and then his mount would wheel about and rear in revolt, she following
+him with fond looks, proud of the elegant cavalier who could subdue
+without apparent effort, by the mere pressure of his thighs, that
+impetuous steed.
+
+Then she would give her horse a touch with the whip, and off she would
+go at a gallop, feeling happy with the wind blowing in her face, and
+he whom she loved by her side to smile on and encourage her. Then they
+would scamper along; the dog with his thin body almost touching the
+ground, racing and frightening the rabbits, which shot across the road
+swift as bullets. Out of breath by the violent ride, Micheline would
+stop, and pat the neck of her lovely chestnut horse. Slowly the young
+people would return to the Rue Saint-Dominique, and, on arriving in the
+courtyard, there was such a pawing of feet as brought the clerks to
+the windows, hiding behind the curtains. Tired with healthy exercise,
+Micheline would go smiling to the office where her mother was hard at
+work, and say:
+
+“Here we are, mamma!”
+
+The mistress would rise and kiss her daughter beaming with freshness.
+Then they would go up to breakfast.
+
+Madame Desvarennes’s doubts were lulled to rest. She saw her daughter
+happy. Her son-in-law was in every respect cordial and charming
+toward her. Cayrol and his wife had scarcely been in Paris since their
+marriage. The banker had joined Herzog in his great scheme of the
+“Credit,” and was travelling all over Europe establishing offices and
+securing openings. Jeanne accompanied him. They were then in Greece.
+The young wife’s letters to her adopted mother breathed calmness and
+satisfaction. She highly praised her husband’s kindness to her, and said
+it was unequalled.
+
+No allusion was made to that evening of their marriage, when, escaping
+from Cayrol’s wrath, she had thrown herself in Madame Desvarennes’s
+arms, and had allowed her secret to be found out. The mistress might
+well think then that the thought which at times still troubled her mind
+was a remembrance of a bad dream.
+
+What contributed especially to make her feel secure was Jeanne’s
+absence. If the young woman had been near Serge, Madame Desvarennes
+might have trembled. But Micheline’s beautiful rival was far away, and
+Serge seemed very much in love with his wife.
+
+Everything was for the best. The formidable projects which Madame
+Desvarennes had formed in the heat of her passion had not been carried
+out. Serge had as yet not given Madame Desvarennes cause for real
+displeasure. Certainly he was spending money foolishly, but then his
+wife was so rich!
+
+He had put his household on an extraordinary footing. Everything that
+most refined luxury had invented he had introduced as a matter of
+course, and for everyday use. He entertained magnificently several times
+a week. And Madame Desvarennes, from her apartments, for she would never
+appear at these grand receptions, heard the noise of these doings. This
+woman, modest and simple in her ideas, whose luxury had always
+been artistic, wondered that they could spend so much on frivolous
+entertainments. But Micheline was queen of these sumptuous ceremonies.
+She came in full dress to be admired by her mother, before going down
+to receive her guests, and the mistress had not courage to offer any
+remonstrances as to expense when she saw her daughter so brilliant and
+contented.
+
+They played cards very much. The great colony of foreigners who came
+every week to Panine’s receptions brought with them their immoderate
+passion for cards, and he was only too willing to give way to it. These
+gentlemen, among them all, almost without taking off their white kid
+gloves, would win or lose between forty and fifty thousand francs at
+bouillotte, just to give them an appetite before going to the club to
+finish the night at baccarat.
+
+Meanwhile the ladies, with their graceful toilettes displayed on the low
+soft chairs, talked of dress behind their fans, or listened to the songs
+of a professional singer, while young men whispered soft nothings in
+their ears.
+
+It was rumored that the Prince lost heavily. It was not to be wondered
+at; he was so happy in love! Madame Desvarennes, who used every means of
+gaining information on the subject, even to the gossip of the servants,
+heard that the sums were enormous. No doubt they were exaggerated, but
+the fact remained the same. The Prince was losing.
+
+Madame Desvarennes could not resist the inclination of finding out
+whether Micheline knew what was going on, and one morning when the young
+wife came down to see her mother, dressed in a lovely pink gown, the
+mistress, while teasing her daughter, said, carelessly:
+
+“It seems your husband lost heavily last night.”
+
+Micheline looked astonished at Madame Desvarennes, and in a quiet voice
+replied:
+
+“A good host may not win from his guests; it would look as if he
+invited them to rob them. Losses at cards are included in the costs of a
+reception.”
+
+Madame Desvarennes thought that her daughter had become a very grand
+lady, and had soon acquired expanded ideas. But she dared not say
+anything more. She dreaded a quarrel with her daughter, and would have
+sacrificed everything to retain her cajoling ways.
+
+She threw herself into her work with renewed vigor.
+
+“If the Prince spends large sums,” she said to herself, “I will earn
+larger ones. There can be no hole dug deep enough by him that I shall
+not be able, to fill up.”
+
+And she made the money come in at the door so that her son-in-law might
+throw it out of the window.
+
+One fine day these great people who visited at the mansion in the Rue
+Saint-Dominique hastened away to the country. September had arrived,
+bringing with it the shooting season. The Prince and Micheline settled
+themselves at Cernay, not as in the first days of their marriage as
+lovers who sought quietude, but as people sure of their happiness, who
+wished to make a great show. They took all the carriages with them, and
+there was nothing but bustle and movement. The four keepers, dressed in
+the Prince’s livery, came daily for orders as to shooting arrangements.
+And every week shoals of visitors arrived, brought from the station in
+large breaks drawn by four horses.
+
+The princely dwelling was in its full splendor. There was a continual
+going and coming of fashionable worldlings. From top to bottom of the
+castle was a constant rustling of silk dresses; groups of pretty women,
+coming downstairs with peals of merry laughter and singing snatches from
+the last opera. In the spacious hall they played billiards and other
+games, while one of the gentlemen performed on the large organ. There
+was a strange mixture of freedom and strictness. The smoke of Russian
+cigarettes mingled with the scent of opoponax. An elegant confusion
+which ended about six o’clock in a general flight, when the sportsmen
+came home, and the guests went to their rooms. An hour afterward all
+these people met in the large drawing-room; the ladies in low-bodied
+evening dresses; the gentlemen in dress-coats and white satin
+waistcoats, with a sprig of mignonette and a white rose in their
+buttonholes. After dinner, they danced in the drawing-rooms, where a mad
+waltz would even restore energy to the gentlemen tired out by six hours
+spent in the field.
+
+Madame Desvarennes did not join in that wild existence. She had remained
+in Paris, attentive to business. On Saturdays she came down by the five
+o’clock train and regularly returned on the Monday morning. Her presence
+checked their wild gayety a little. Her black dress was like a blot
+among the brocades and satins. Her severe gravity, that of a woman who
+pays and sees the money going too fast, was like a reproach, silent but
+explicit, to that gay and thoughtless throng of idlers, solely taken up
+by their pleasure.
+
+The servants made fun of her. One day the Prince’s valet, who thought
+himself a clever fellow, said before all the other servants that
+Mother Damper had arrived. Of course they all roared with laughter and
+exclaimed:
+
+“Bother the old woman! Why does she come and worry us? She had far
+better stop in the office and earn money; that’s all she’s good for!”
+
+The disdain which the servants learned from their master grew rapidly.
+So much so that one Monday morning, toward nine o’clock, Madame
+Desvarennes came down to the courtyard, expecting to find the carriage
+which generally took her to the station. It was the second coachman’s
+duty to drive her, and she did not see him. Thinking that he was a
+little late, she walked to the stable-yard. There, instead of the
+victoria which usually took her, she saw a large mail-coach to which
+two grooms were harnessing the Prince’s four bays. The head coachman, an
+Englishman, dressed like a gentleman, with a stand-up collar, and a
+rose in his buttonhole, stood watching the operations with an air of
+importance.
+
+Madame Desvarennes went straight to him. He had seen her coming, out of
+the corner of his eye, without disturbing himself.
+
+“How is it that the carriage is not ready to take me to the station?”
+ asked the mistress.
+
+“I don’t know, Madame,” answered this personage, condescendingly,
+without taking his hat off.
+
+“But where is the coachman who generally drives me?”
+
+“I don’t know. If Madame would like to see in the stables--”
+
+And with a careless gesture, the Englishman pointed out to Madame
+Desvarennes the magnificent buildings at the end of the courtyard.
+
+The blood rose to the mistress’s cheeks; she gave the coachman such a
+look that he moved away a little. Then glancing at her watch, she said,
+coldly:
+
+“I have only a quarter of an hour before the train leaves, but here are
+horses that ought to go well. Jump on the box, my man, you shall drive
+me.”
+
+The Englishman shook his head.
+
+“Those horses are not for service; they are only for pleasure,” he
+answered. “I drive the Prince. I don’t mind driving the Princess, but I
+am not here to drive you, Madame.”
+
+And with an insolent gesture, setting his hat firmly on his head, he
+turned his back upon the mistress. At the same moment, a sharp stroke
+from a light cane made his hat roll on the pavement. And as the
+Englishman turned round, red with rage, he found himself face to face
+with the Prince, whose approach neither Madame Desvarennes nor he had
+heard.
+
+Serge, in an elegant morning suit, was going round his stables when he
+had been attracted by this discussion. The Englishman, uneasy, sought to
+frame an excuse.
+
+“Hold your tongue!” exclaimed the Prince, sharply, “and go and wait my
+orders.”
+
+And turning toward the mistress:
+
+“Since this man refuses to drive you, I shall have the pleasure of
+taking you to the station myself,” he said, with a charming smile.
+
+And as Madame Desvarennes remonstrated,
+
+“Oh! I can drive four-in-hand,” he added. “For once in my life that
+talent will have been of some use to me. Pray jump in.”
+
+And opening the door of the mail-coach he handed her into the vast
+carriage. Then, climbing with one bound to the box, he gathered the
+reins and, cigar in mouth, with all the coolness of an old coachman, he
+started the horses in the presence of all the grooms, and made a perfect
+semicircle on the gravel of the courtyard.
+
+The incident was repeated favorably for Serge. It was agreed that he had
+behaved like a true nobleman. Micheline was proud of it, and saw in this
+act of deference to her mother a proof of his love for her. As to the
+mistress, she understood the advantage this clever manoeuvre gave to the
+Prince. At the same time she felt the great distance which henceforth
+separated her from the world in which her daughter lived.
+
+The insolence of that servant was a revelation to her. They despised
+her. The Prince’s coachman would not condescend to drive a plebeian like
+her. She paid the wages of these servants to no purpose. Her plebeian
+origin and business habits were a vice. They submitted to her; they did
+not respect her.
+
+Although her son-in-law and daughter were perfect toward her in their
+behavior, she became gloomy and dull, and but seldom went now to Cernay.
+She felt in the way, and uncomfortable. The smiling and superficial
+politeness of the visitors irritated her nerves. These people were too
+well bred to be rude toward Panine’s mother-in-law, but she felt that
+their politeness was forced. Under their affected nicety she detected
+irony. She began to hate them all.
+
+Serge, sovereign lord of Cernay, was really happy. Every moment he
+experienced new pleasure in gratifying his taste for luxury. His love
+for horses grew more and more. He gave orders to have a model stud-house
+erected in the park amid the splendid meadows watered by the Oise; and
+bought stallions and breeding mares from celebrated English breeders. He
+contemplated starting a racing stable.
+
+One day when Madame Desvarennes arrived at Cernay, she was surprised to
+see the greensward bordering the woods marked out with white stakes. She
+asked inquiringly what these stakes meant? Micheline answered in an easy
+tone:
+
+“Ah! you saw them? That is the track for training. We made Mademoiselle
+de Cernay gallop there to-day. She’s a level-going filly with which
+Serge hopes to win the next Poule des Produits.”
+
+The mistress was amazed. A child who had been brought up so simply, in
+spite of her large fortune, a little commoner, speaking of level-going
+fillies and the Poule des Produits! What a change had come over her
+and what incredible influence this frivolous, vain Panine had over that
+young and right-minded girl! And that in a few months! What would it be
+later? He would succeed in imparting to her his tastes and would mould
+her to his whims, and the young modest girl whom he had received from
+the mother would become a horsey and fast woman.
+
+Was it possible that Micheline could be happy in that hollow and empty
+life? The love of her husband satisfied her. His love was all she
+asked for, all else was indifferent to her. Thus of her mother, the
+impassioned toiler, was born the passionate lover! All the fervency
+which the mother had given to business, Micheline had given to love.
+
+Moreover, Serge behaved irreproachably. One must do him that justice.
+Not even an appearance accused him. He was faithful, unlikely as that
+may seem in a man of his kind; he never left his wife. He had hardly
+ever gone out without her; they were a couple of turtle-doves. They were
+laughed at.
+
+“The Princess has tied a string round Serge’s foot,” was said by some of
+Serge’s former woman friends!
+
+It was something to be sure of her daughter’s happiness. That happiness
+was dearly, bought; but as the proverb says:
+
+“Money troubles are not mortal!”
+
+And, besides, it was evident that the Prince did not keep account of
+his money; his hand was always open. And never did a great lord do
+more honor to his fortune. Panine, in marrying Micheline, had found the
+mistress’s cash-box at his disposal.
+
+This prodigious cash-box had seemed to him inexhaustible, and he had
+drawn on it like a Prince in the Arabian Nights on the treasure of the
+genii.
+
+Perhaps it would suffice to let him see that he was spending the capital
+as well as the income to make him alter his line of conduct. At all
+events, the moment was not yet opportune, and, besides, the amount was
+not yet large enough. Cry out about some hundred thousand francs! Madame
+Desvarennes would be thought a miser and would be covered with shame.
+She must wait.
+
+And, shut up in her office in the Rue Saint-Dominique with Marechal, who
+acted as her confidant, she worked with heart and soul full of passion
+and anger, making money. It was fine to witness the duel between
+these two beings: the one useful, the other useless; one sacrificing
+everything to work, the other everything to pleasure.
+
+Toward the end of October, the weather at Cernay became unsettled, and
+Micheline complained of the cold. Country life so pleased Serge that he
+turned a deaf ear to her complaints. But lost in that large house, the
+autumn winds rustling through the trees, whose leaves were tinted with
+yellow, Micheline became sad, and the Prince understood that it was time
+to go back to Paris.
+
+The town seemed deserted to Serge. Still, returning to his splendid
+apartments was a great satisfaction and pleasure to him. Everything
+appeared new. He reviewed the hangings, the expensive furniture, the
+paintings and rare objects. He was charmed. It was really of wonderful
+beauty, and the cage seemed worthy of the bird. For several evenings
+he remained quietly at home with Micheline, in the little silver-gray
+drawing-room that was his favorite room. He looked through albums, too,
+while his wife played at her piano quietly or sang.
+
+They retired early and came down late. Then he had become a gourmand. He
+spent hours in arranging menus and inventing unknown dishes about which
+he consulted his chef, a cook of note.
+
+He rode in the Bois in the course of the day, but did not meet any
+one there; for of every two carriages one was a hackney coach with a
+worn-out sleepy horse, his head hanging between his knees, going the
+round of the lake. He ceased going to the Bois, and went out on foot in
+the Champs-Elysees. He crossed the Pont de la Concorde, and walked up
+and down the avenues near the Cirque.
+
+He was wearied. Life had never appeared so monotonous to him. Formerly
+he had at least the preoccupations of the future. He asked himself how
+he could alter the sad condition in which he vegetated! Shut up in
+this happy existence, without a care or a cross, he grew weary like a
+prisoner in his cell. He longed for the unforeseen; his wife irritated
+him, she was of too equable a temperament. She always met him with the
+same smile on her lips. And then happiness agreed with her too well; she
+was growing stout.
+
+One day, on the Boulevard des Italiens, Serge met an old friend, the
+Baron de Prefont, a hardened ‘roue’. He had not seen him since his
+marriage. It was a pleasure to him. They had a thousand things to say to
+each other. And walking along, they came to the Rue Royale.
+
+“Come to the club,” said Prefont, taking Serge by the arm.
+
+The Prince, having nothing else to do, allowed himself to be led away,
+and went. He felt a strange pleasure in those large rooms of the club,
+the Grand Cercle, with their glaring furniture. The common easy-chairs,
+covered with dark leather, seemed delightful. He did not notice the
+well-worn carpets burned here and there by the hot cigar-ash; the strong
+smell of tobacco, impregnated in the curtains, did not make him feel
+qualmish. He was away from home, and was satisfied with anything for a
+change. He had been domesticated long enough.
+
+One morning, taking up the newspaper, a name caught Madame Desvarennes’s
+eye-that of the Prince. She read:
+
+“The golden book of the Grand Cercle has just had another illustrious
+name inscribed in it. The Prince Panine was admitted yesterday, proposed
+by the Baron de Prefont and the Duc de Bligny.”
+
+These few lines made Madame Desvarennes’s blood boil. Her ears tingled
+as if all the bells of Saint-Etienne-du-Mont had been rung together.
+In a rapid vision, she saw misfortune coming. Her son-in-law, that born
+gambler, at the Grand Cercle! No more smiles for Micheline; henceforth
+she had a terrible rival--the devouring love of play.
+
+Then Madame Desvarennes reflected. The husband’s deserting his fireside
+would be salvation for herself. The door by which he went out, would
+serve as an entrance for her. The plan which she had conceived at Cernay
+that terrible night of the marriage when Jeanne had confided in her,
+remained for her to execute. By opening her purse widely to the Prince,
+she would help him in his vice. And she would infallibly succeed in
+separating Serge and Micheline.
+
+But the mistress checked herself. Lend her hands to the destruction of
+her son-in-law in a fit of fierce maternal egoism? Was it not unworthy
+of her? How many tears would the Prince’s errors cost her whom she
+wished to regain at all price? And then would she always be there to
+compensate by her devoted affection the bitterly regretted estrangement
+from the husband? She would, in dying, leave the household disunited.
+
+She was horrified at what she had for an instant dreamed of doing. And
+instead of helping the Prince on to destruction, she determined to
+do all in her power to keep him in the path of honor. That resolution
+formed, Madame Desvarennes was satisfied. She felt superior to Serge,
+and to a mind like hers the thought was strengthening.
+
+The admission to the Grand Cercle gave Serge a powerful element of
+interest in life: He had to manoeuvre to obtain his liberty. His first
+evenings spent from home troubled Micheline deeply. The young wife was
+jealous when she saw her husband going out. She feared a rival, and
+trembled for her love. Serge’s mysterious conduct caused her intolerable
+torture. She dared not say anything to her mother, and remained
+perfectly quiet on the subject before her husband. She sought
+discreetly, listened to the least word that might throw any light on the
+matter.
+
+One day she found an ivory counter, bearing the stamp of the Grand
+Cercle, in her husband’s dressing-room. It was in the Rue Royale then
+that her husband spent his evenings. This discovery was a great relief
+to her. It was not very wrong to go there, and if the Prince did go
+and smoke a few cigars and have a game at bouillotte, it was not a very
+great crime. The return of his usual friends to Paris and the resumption
+of their receptions would bring him home again.
+
+Serge now left Micheline about ten o’clock in the evening regularly and
+arrived at the club about eleven. High play did not commence until after
+midnight. Then he seated himself at the gaming-table with all the
+ardor of a professional gambler. His face changed its expression. When
+winning, it was animated with an expression of awful joy; when losing,
+he looked as hard as a stone, his features contracted, and his eyes were
+full of gloomy fire. He bit his mustache convulsively. Moreover, always
+silent, winning or losing with superb indifference.
+
+He lost. His bad luck had followed him. At the club his losses were no
+longer limited. There was always some one willing to take a hand, and
+until dawn he played, wasting his life and energies to satisfy his
+insane love of gambling.
+
+One morning, Marechal entered Madame Desvarennes’s private office,
+holding a little square piece of paper. Without speaking a word, he
+placed it on the desk. The mistress took it, read what was written upon
+it in shaky handwriting, and suddenly becoming purple, rose. The paper
+bore these simple words:
+
+“Received from Monsieur Salignon the sum of one hundred thousand francs.
+Serge Panine.”
+
+“Who brought this paper?” asked Madame Desvarennes, crushing it between
+her fingers.
+
+“The waiter who attends the card-room at the club.”
+
+“The waiter?” cried Madame Desvarennes, astonished.
+
+“Oh, he is a sort of banker,” said Marechal. “These gentlemen apply to
+him when they run short of money. The Prince must have found himself in
+that predicament. Still he has just received the rents for the property
+in the Rue de Rivoli.”
+
+“The rents!” grumbled Madame Desvarennes, with an energetic movement.
+“The rents! A drop of water in a river! You don’t know that he is a man
+to lose the hundred thousand francs which they claim, in one night.”
+
+The mistress paced up and down the room. She suddenly came to a
+standstill. “If I don’t stop him, the rogue will sell the feather-bed
+from under my daughter! But he shall have a little of my mind! He has
+provoked me long enough. Pay it! I’ll take my money’s worth out of him.”
+
+And in a second, Madame Desvarennes was in the Prince’s room.
+
+Serge, after a delicate breakfast, was smoking and dozing on the
+smoking-room sofa. The night had been a heavy one for him. He had won
+two hundred and fifty thousand francs from Ibrahim Bey, then he had lost
+all, besides five thousand louis advanced by the obliging Salignon. He
+had told the waiter to come to the Rue Saint-Dominique, and by mistake
+the man had gone to the office.
+
+The sudden opening of the smoking-room door roused Serge. He unclosed
+his eyes and looked very much astonished at seeing Madame Desvarennes
+appear. Pale, frowning, and holding the accusing paper in her hand, she
+angrily inquired:
+
+“Do you recognize that?” and placed the receipt which he had signed,
+before him, as he slowly rose.
+
+Serge seized it quickly, and then looking coldly at his mother-in-law,
+said:
+
+“How did this paper come into your hands?”
+
+“It has just been brought to my cashier. A hundred thousand francs!
+Faith! You are going ahead! Do you know how many bushels of corn must be
+ground to earn that?”
+
+“I beg your pardon, Madame,” said the Prince, interrupting Madame
+Desvarennes. “I don’t suppose you came here to give me a lesson in
+commercial statistics. This paper was presented to your cashier by
+mistake. I was expecting it, and here is the money ready to pay it. As
+you have been good enough to do so, pray refund yourself.”
+
+And taking a bundle of bank-notes from a cabinet, the Prince handed them
+to the astonished mistress.
+
+“But,” she sought to say, very much put out by this unexpected answer,
+“where did you get this money from? You must have inconvenienced
+yourself.”
+
+“I beg your pardon,” said the Prince, quietly, “that only concerns
+myself. Be good enough to see whether the amount is there,” added he
+with a smile. “I reckon so badly that it is possible I may have made a
+mistake to your disadvantage.”
+
+Madame Desvarennes pushed away the hand which presented the bank-notes,
+and shook her head gravely:
+
+“Keep this money,” she said; “unfortunately you will need it. You have
+entered on a very dangerous path, which grieves me very much. I would
+willingly give ten times the amount, at once, to be sure that you would
+never touch another card.”
+
+“Madame!” said the Prince with impatience.
+
+“Oh! I know what I am risking by speaking thus. It weighs so heavily
+on my heart. I must give vent to it or I shall choke. You are spending
+money like a man who does not know what it is to earn it. And if you
+continue--”
+
+Madame Desvarennes raised her eyes and looked at the Prince. She saw him
+so pale with suppressed rage that she dared not say another word. She
+read deadly hatred in the young man’s look. Frightened at what she had
+just been saying, she stepped back, and went quickly toward the door.
+
+“Take this money, Madame,” said Serge, in a trembling voice. “Take it,
+or all is over between us forever.”
+
+And, seizing the notes, he put them by force in Madame Desvarennes’s
+hands. Then tearing up with rage the paper that had been the cause of
+this painful scene, he threw the pieces in the fireplace.
+
+Deeply affected, Madame Desvarennes descended the stairs which she had
+a few minutes before gone up with so much resolution. She had a
+presentiment that an irreparable rupture had just taken place between
+herself and her son-in-law. She had ruffled Panine’s pride. She
+felt that he would never forgive her. She went to her room sad and
+thoughtful. Life was becoming gloomy for this poor woman. Her confidence
+in herself had disappeared. She hesitated now, and was irresolute when
+she had to take a decision. She no longer went straight to the point by
+the shortest road. Her sonorous voice was softened. She was no longer
+the same willing energetic woman who feared no obstacles. She had known
+defeat.
+
+The attitude of her daughter had changed toward her. It seemed as
+if Micheline wished to absolve herself of all complicity with Madame
+Desvarennes. She kept away to prove to her husband that if her mother
+had displeased him in any way, she had nothing to do with it. This
+behavior grieved her mother, who felt that Serge was working secretly
+to turn Micheline against her. And the mad passion of the young wife for
+him whom she recognized as her master did not allow the mother to doubt
+which side she would take if ever she had to choose between husband and
+mother.
+
+One day Micheline came down to see her mother. It was more than a month
+since she had visited her. In a moment Madame Desvarennes saw that she
+had something of an embarrassing nature to speak of. To begin with she
+was more affectionate than usual, seeming to wish with the honey of
+her kisses to sweeten the bitter cross which the mistress was doomed to
+bear. Then she hesitated. She fidgeted about the room humming. At last
+she said that the doctor had come at the request of Serge, who was most
+anxious about his wife’s health. And that excellent Doctor Rigaud, who
+had known her from a child, had found her suffering from great weakness.
+He had ordered change of air.
+
+At these words Madame Desvarennes raised her head and gave her daughter
+a terrible look:
+
+“Come, no nonsense! Speak the truth! He is taking you away!”
+
+“But, mamma,” said Micheline, disconcerted at this interruption, “I
+assure you, you are mistaken. Anxiety for my health alone guides my
+husband.”
+
+“Your husband!” broke forth Madame Desvarennes. “Your husband! Ah,
+there; go away! Because if you stop here, I shall not be able to control
+myself, and shall say things about him that you will not forgive in
+a hurry! As you are ill, you are right to have change of air. I shall
+remain here, without you, fastened to my chain, earning money for you
+while you are far, away. Go along!”
+
+And seizing her daughter by the arm with convulsive strength, she pushed
+her roughly; for the first time in her life, repeating, in a low tone:
+
+“Go away! Leave me alone!”
+
+Micheline suffered herself to be put outside the room, and went to her
+own apartments astonished and frightened. The young wife had hardly left
+the room when Madame Desvarennes suffered the reaction of the emotion
+she had just felt. Her nerves were unstrung, and falling on a chair she
+remained immovable and humbled. Was it possible that her daughter, her
+adored child, would abandon her to obey the grudges of her husband? No,
+Micheline, when back in her room, would remember that she was carrying
+away all the joy of the house, and that it was cruel to deprive her
+mother of her only happiness in life.
+
+Slightly reassured, she went down to the office. As she reached the
+landing, she saw the Prince’s servants carrying up trunks belonging to
+their master to be packed. She felt sick at heart. She understood that
+this project had been discussed and settled beforehand. It seemed to her
+that all was over; that her daughter was going away forever, and that
+she would never see her again. She thought of going to beseech Serge and
+ask him what sum he would take in exchange for Micheline’s liberty;
+but the haughty and sarcastic face of the Prince forcibly putting the
+bank-notes in her hands, passed before her, and she guessed that she
+would not obtain anything. Cast down and despairing, she entered her
+office and set to work.
+
+The next day, by the evening express, the Prince and Princess left
+for Nice with all their household, and the mansion in the Rue
+Saint-Dominique remained silent and deserted.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV. A SUDDEN JOURNEY
+
+At the end of the Promenade des Anglais, on the pleasant road bordered
+with tamarind-trees, stands, amid a grove of cork-oaks and eucalypti,
+a charming white villa with pink shutters. A Russian lady, the Countess
+Woreseff, had it built five years ago, and occupied it one winter. Then,
+tired of the monotonous noise of the waves beating on the terrace and
+the brightness of the calm blue sky, she longed for the mists of her
+native country, and suddenly started for St. Petersburg, leaving that
+charming residence to be let.
+
+It was there, amid rhododendrons and strawberry-trees in full bloom,
+that Micheline and Serge had taken up their abode. Until that day
+the Princess had scarcely travelled. Her mother, always occupied in
+commercial pursuits, had never left Paris. Micheline had remained with
+her. During this long journey, accomplished in most luxurious style, she
+had behaved like a child astonished at everything, and pleased at the
+least thing. With her face close to the window she saw through the
+transparent darkness of a lovely winter’s night, villages and forests
+gliding past like phantoms. Afar off, in the depths of the country, she
+caught sight of a light glimmering, and she loved to picture a family
+gathered by the fire, the children asleep and the mother working in the
+silence.
+
+Children! She often thought of them, and never without a sigh of regret
+rising to her lips. She had been married for some months, and her dreams
+of becoming a mother had not been realized. How happy she would have
+been to have a baby, with fair hair, to fondle and kiss! Then the idea
+of a child reminded her of her own mother. She thought of the deep love
+one must feel for a child. And the image of the mistress, sad and alone,
+in the large house of the Rue Saint-Dominique, came to her mind. A vague
+remorse seized her heart. She felt she had behaved badly. She said to
+herself: “If, to punish me, Heaven will not grant me a child!” She
+wept, and soon her grief and trouble vanished with her tears. Sleep
+overpowered her, and when she awoke it was broad daylight and they were
+in Provence.
+
+From that moment everything was dazzling. The arrival at Marseilles;
+the journey along the coast, the approach to Nice, were all matters of
+ecstacy to Micheline. But it was when the carriage, which was waiting
+for them at the railway station, stopped at the gates of the villa,
+that she broke into raptures. She could not feast her eyes enough on the
+scene which was before her. The blue sea, the sky without a cloud,
+the white houses rising on the hill amid the dark foliage, and in the
+distance the mountaintops covered with snow, and tinged with pink under
+the brilliant rays of the sun. All this vigorous and slightly wild
+nature surprised the Parisienne. It was a new experience. Dazzled by
+the light and intoxicated with the perfumes, a sort of languor came over
+her. She soon recovered and became quite strong--something altogether
+new for her, and she felt thoroughly happy.
+
+The life of the Prince and the Princess became at Nice what it had been
+in Paris during the early days of their marriage. Visitors flocked to
+their house. All that the colony could reckon of well-known Parisians
+and foreigners of high repute presented themselves at the villa. The
+fetes recommenced. They gave receptions three times a week; the other
+evenings Serge went to the Cercle.
+
+This absorbing life had gone on for two months. It was the beginning
+of February, and already nature was assuming a new appearance under
+the influence of spring. One evening, three people--two gentlemen and a
+lady--stepped out of a carriage at the villa gates, and found themselves
+face to face with a traveller who had come on foot. Two exclamations
+broke out simultaneously.
+
+“Marechal!” “Monsieur Savinien!”
+
+“You! at Nice? And by what miracle?”
+
+“A miracle which makes you travel fifteen leagues an hour in exchange
+for a hundred and thirty-three francs first-class, and is called the
+Marseilles express!”
+
+“I beg your pardon, my dear friend. I have not introduced you to
+Monsieur and Mademoiselle Herzog.”
+
+“I have already had the honor of meeting Mademoiselle Herzog at Madame
+Desvarennes’s,” said Marechal, bowing to the young girl, without
+appearing to notice the father.
+
+“You were going to the villa?” asked Savinien. “We, too, were going. But
+how is my aunt? When did you leave her?”
+
+“I have not left her.”
+
+“What’s that you say?”
+
+“I say that she is here.”
+
+Savinien let his arms drop in profound consternation to show how
+difficult it was for him to believe what was going on. Then, in a faint
+treble voice, he said:
+
+“My aunt! At Nice! Promenade des Anglais! That’s something more
+wonderful than the telephone and phonograph! If you had told me that the
+Pantheon had landed one fine night on the banks of the Paillon, I should
+not be more astonished. I thought Madame Desvarennes was as deeply
+rooted in Paris as the Colonne Vendome! But tell me, what is the object
+of this journey?”
+
+“A freak.”
+
+“Which manifested itself--”
+
+“Yesterday morning at breakfast. Pierre Delarue, who is going to
+finish his business in Algeria, and then settle in France, came to say
+‘Good-by’ to Madame Desvarennes. A letter arrived from the Princess.
+She commenced reading it, then all at once she exclaimed ‘Cayrol and his
+wife arrived at Nice two days ago!’ Pierre and I were astonished at the
+tone in which she uttered these words. She was lost in thought for a
+few moments, then she said to Pierre: ‘You are leaving tonight for
+Marseilles? Well, I shall go with you. You will accompany me to Nice.’
+And turning toward me, she added: ‘Marechal, pack up your portmanteau. I
+shall take you with me.”’
+
+While speaking, they had walked across the garden, and reached the steps
+leading to the villa.
+
+“Nothing is easier than to explain this sudden journey,” remarked
+Mademoiselle Herzog. “On learning that Monsieur and Madame Cayrol were
+at Nice with the Princess, Madame Desvarennes must have felt how
+very lonely she was in Paris. She had a longing to be near them, and
+started.”
+
+Herzog listened attentively, and seemed to be seeking the connection
+which should exist between the arrival of the Cayrols and the departure
+of Madame Desvarennes.
+
+“The funniest thing to me is Marechal taking a holiday,” observed
+Savinien. “They are still at dinner,” he added, entering the
+drawing-room, through the great doors of which sounds of voices and
+rattling of plates were heard.
+
+“Well, let us wait for them; we are in agreeable company,” said Herzog,
+turning toward Marechal, who only answered by a cold bow.
+
+“What are you going to do here, Marechal?” inquired Savinien. “You will
+be awfully bored.”
+
+“Why? Once in a way I am going to enjoy myself and be a swell. You will
+teach me, Monsieur Savinien. It cannot be very difficult. It is only
+necessary to wear a dove-colored coat like you, a gardenia in my
+buttonhole like Monsieur Le Bride, frizzled hair like Monsieur du
+Tremblay, and to assail the bank at Monaco.”
+
+“Like all these gentlemen,” said Suzanne, gayly, “you are a gambler
+then?”
+
+“I have never touched a card.”
+
+“But then you ought to have great good luck,” said the young girl.
+
+Herzog had come up to them.
+
+“Will you go partners?” he asked of Marechal. “We will divide the
+winnings.”
+
+“You are too kind,” replied Marechal, dryly, turning away.
+
+He could not get used to Herzog’s familiarity, and there was something
+in the man which displeased him greatly. There was, he thought, a
+police-court atmosphere about him.
+
+Suzanne, on the contrary, interested him. The simple, lively, and frank
+young girl attracted him, and he liked to talk with her. On several
+occasions, at Madame Desvarennes’s, he had been her partner. There was
+through this a certain intimacy between them which he could not extend
+to the father.
+
+Herzog had that faculty, fortunately for him, of never appearing
+offended at what was said to him. He took Savinien’s arm in a familiar
+manner and asked: “Have you noticed that the Prince has looked very
+preoccupied for the last few days?”
+
+“I don’t wonder at it,” replied Savinien. “He has been very unlucky at
+cards. It is all very well for his wife, my charming cousin, to be rich,
+but if he is going on like that it won’t last long!”
+
+The two men withdrew to the window.
+
+Suzanne went up to Marechal. She had resumed her thoughtful air. He
+saw her advancing, and, guessing what she was going to say, felt
+uncomfortable at having to tell an untruth if he did not wish to hurt
+her feelings by brutal frankness.
+
+“Monsieur Marechal,” she began, “how is it that you are always so cold
+and formal with my father?”
+
+“My dear young lady, there is a great difference between your father and
+me. I keep my place, that’s all.”
+
+The young girl shook her head sadly.
+
+“It is not that; you are amiable and ever friendly with me--”
+
+“You are a woman, and the least politeness--”
+
+“No! My father must have hurt your feelings unwittingly; for he is very
+good. I have asked him, and he did not seem to understand what I meant.
+But my questions drew his attention to you. He thinks highly of you
+and would like to see you filling a position more in harmony with your
+merit. You know that Monsieur Cayrol and my father have just launched a
+tremendous undertaking?”
+
+“The ‘Credit European’?”
+
+“Yes. They will have offices in all the commercial centres of European
+commerce. Would you like the management of one of these branches?”
+
+“I, Mademoiselle?” cried Marechal, astonished, and already asking
+himself what interest Herzog could have in making him leave the house of
+Desvarennes.
+
+“The enterprise is colossal,” continued Suzanne, “and frightens me at
+times. Is it necessary to be so rich? I would like my father to retire
+from these enormous speculations into which he has thrown himself, body
+and soul. I have simple tastes. My father wishes to make a tremendous
+fortune for me, he says. All he undertakes is for me, I know. It seems
+to me that he runs a great risk. That is why I am talking to you. I am
+very superstitious, and I fancy if you were with us it would bring us
+luck.”
+
+Suzanne, while speaking, had leaned toward Marechal. Her face reflected
+the seriousness of her thoughts. Her lovely eyes implored. The young
+man asked himself how this charming girl could belong to that horrible
+Herzog.
+
+“Believe me that I am deeply touched, Mademoiselle, by the favor you
+have done me,” said he, with emotion. “I owe it solely to your kindness,
+I know; but I do not belong to myself. I am bound to Madame Desvarennes
+by stronger ties than those of interest--those of gratitude.”
+
+“You refuse?” she cried, painfully.
+
+“I must.”
+
+“The position you fill is humble.”
+
+“I was very glad to accept it at a time when my daily bread was not
+certain.”
+
+“You have been reduced,” said the young girl, with trembling voice, “to
+such--”
+
+“Wretchedness. Yes, Mademoiselle, my outset in life was hard. I am
+without relations. Mother Marechal, a kind fruiterer of the Rue Pavee au
+Marais, found me one morning by the curbstone, rolled in a number of the
+Constitutionnel, like an old pair of boots. The good woman took me home,
+brought me up and sent me to college. I must tell you that I was very
+successful and gained a scholarship. I won all the prizes. Yes, and I
+had to sell my gilt-edged books from the Lycee Charlemagne in the days
+of distress. I was eighteen when my benefactress, Mother Marechal, died.
+I was without help or succor. I tried to get along by myself. After
+ten years of struggling and privations I felt physical and moral vigor
+giving way. I looked around me and saw those who overcame obstacles were
+stronger than I. I felt that I was doomed not to make way in the world,
+not being one of those who could command, so I resigned myself to obey.
+I fill a humble position as you know, but one which satisfies my wants.
+I am without ambition. A little philosophical, I observe all that goes
+on around me. I live happily like Diogenes in his tub.”
+
+“You are a wise man,” resumed Suzanne. “I, too, am a philosopher, and I
+live amid surroundings which do not please me. I, unfortunately, lost
+my mother when I was very young, and although my father is very kind, he
+has been obliged to neglect me a little. I see around me people who are
+millionaires or who aspire to be. I am doomed to receive the attentions
+of such men as Le Bride and Du Tremblay--empty-headed coxcombs, who
+court my money, and to whom I am not a woman, but a sack of ducats
+trimmed with lace.”
+
+“These gentlemen are the modern Argonauts. They are in search of the
+Golden Fleece,” observed Marechal.
+
+“The Argonauts!” cried Suzanne, laughing. “You are right. I shall never
+call them anything else.”
+
+“Oh, they will not understand you!” said Marechal, gayly. “I don’t think
+they know much of mythology.”
+
+“Well, you see I am not very happy in the bosom of riches,” continued
+the young girl. “Do not abandon me. Come and talk with me sometimes. You
+will not chatter trivialities. It will be a change from the others.”
+
+And, nodding pleasantly to Marechal, Mademoiselle Herzog joined her
+father, who was gleaning details about the house of Desvarennes from
+Savinien.
+
+The secretary remained silent for a moment.
+
+“Strange girl!” he murmured. “What a pity she has such a father.”
+
+The door of the room in which Monsieur and Mademoiselle Herzog, Marechal
+and Savinien were, opened, and Madame Desvarennes entered, followed by
+her daughter, Cayrol, Serge and Pierre. The room, at the extreme end of
+the villa, was square, surrounded on three sides by a gallery shut in
+by glass and stocked with greenhouse plants. Lofty archways, half veiled
+with draperies, led to the gallery. This room had been the favorite one
+of Countess Woreseff. She had furnished it in Oriental style, with low
+seats and large divans, inviting one to rest and dream during the heat
+of the day. In the centre of the apartment was a large ottoman, the
+middle of which formed a flower-stand. Steps led down from the gallery
+to the terrace whence there was a most charming view of sea and land.
+
+On seeing his aunt enter, Savinien rushed forward and seized both her
+hands. Madame Desvarennes’s arrival was an element of interest in his
+unoccupied life. The dandy guessed at some mysterious business and
+thought it possible that he might get to know it. With open ears and
+prying eyes, he sought the meaning of the least words.
+
+“If you knew, my dear aunt, how surprised I am to see you here,” he
+exclaimed in his hypocritical way.
+
+“Not more so than I am to find myself here,” said she, with a smile.
+“But, bah! I have slipped my traces for a week.”
+
+“And what are you going to do here?” continued Savinien.
+
+“What everybody does. By-the-bye, what do they do?” asked Madame
+Desvarennes, with vivacity.
+
+“That depends,” answered the Prince. “There are two distinct populations
+here. On the one hand, those who take care of themselves; on the other,
+those who enjoy themselves. For the former there is the constitutional
+every morning in the sun, with slow measured steps on the Promenade des
+Anglais. For the latter there are excursions, races, regattas. The first
+economize their life like misers; the second waste it like prodigals.
+Then night comes on, and the air grows cold. Those who take care of
+themselves go home, those who amuse themselves go out. The first put
+on dressing-gowns; the second put on ball-dresses. Here, the house is
+quiet, lit up by a night-light; there, the rooms sparkle with light, and
+resound with the noise of music and dancing. Here they cough, there they
+laugh. Infusion on the one hand, punch on the other. In fact, everywhere
+and always, a contrast. Nice is at once the saddest and the gayest town.
+One dies of over-enjoyment, and one amuses one’s self at the risk of
+dying.”
+
+“A sojourn here is very dangerous, then?”
+
+“Oh! aunt, not so dangerous, nor, above all, so amusing as the
+Prince says. We are a set of jolly fellows, who kill time between the
+dining-room of the hotel, pigeon-shooting, and the Cercle, which is not
+so very amusing after all.”
+
+“The dining-room is bearable,” said Marechal, “but pigeon-shooting must
+in time become--”
+
+“We put some interest into the game.”
+
+“How so?”
+
+“Oh! It is very simple: a gentleman with a gun in his hand stands before
+the boxes which contain the pigeons. You say to me: ‘I bet fifty louis
+that the bird will fall.’ I answer, ‘Done.’ The gentleman calls out,
+‘Pull;’ the box opens, the pigeon flies, the shot follows. The bird
+falls or does not fall. I lose or win fifty louis.”
+
+“Most interesting!” exclaimed Mademoiselle Herzog.
+
+“Pshaw!” said Savinien with ironical indifference, “it takes the place
+of ‘trente et quarante,’ and is better than ‘odd or even’ on the numbers
+of the cabs which pass.”
+
+“And what do the pigeons say to that?” asked Pierre, seriously.
+
+“They are not consulted,” said Serge, gayly.
+
+“Then there are races and regattas,” continued Savinien.
+
+“In which case you bet on the horses?” interrupted Marechal.
+
+“Or on the boats.”
+
+“In fact, betting is applied to all circumstances of life?”
+
+“Exactly; and to crown all, we have the Cercle, where we go in the
+evening. Baccarat triumphs there. It is not very varied either: A
+hundred louis? Done--Five. I draw. There are some people who draw at
+five. Nine, I show up, I win or I lose, and the game continues.”
+
+“And that amid the glare of gas and the smoke of tobacco,” said
+Marechal, “when the nights are so splendid and the orange-trees smell so
+sweetly. What a strange existence!”
+
+“An existence for idiots, Marechal,” sighed Savinien, “that I, a man of
+business, must submit to, through my aunt’s domineering ways! You know
+now how men of pleasure spend their lives, my friend, and you might
+write a substantial resume entitled, ‘The Fool’s Breviary.’ I am sure it
+would sell well.”
+
+Madame Desvarennes, who had heard the last words, was no longer
+listening. She was lost in a deep reverie. She was much altered since
+grief and trouble had come upon her; her face was worn, her temples
+hollow, her chin was more prominent. Her eyes had sunk into her head,
+and were surrounded by dark rims.
+
+Serge, leaning against the wall near the window, was observing her. He
+was wondering with secret anxiety what had brought Madame Desvarennes
+so suddenly to his house after a separation of two months, during which
+time she had scarcely written to Micheline. Was the question of money to
+be resumed? Since the morning Madame had been smiling, calm and pleased
+like a schoolgirl home for her holidays. This was the first time she
+had allowed a sad expression to rest on her face. Her gayety was feigned
+then.
+
+A look crossing his made him start. Jeanne had just turned her eyes
+toward him. For a second they met his own. Serge could not help
+shuddering. Jeanne was calling his attention to Madame Desvarennes; she,
+too, was observing her. Was it on their account she had come to Nice?
+Had their secret fallen into her hands? He resolved to find out.
+
+Jeanne had turned away her eyes from him. He could feast his on her now.
+She had become more beautiful. The tone of her complexion had become
+warmer. Her figure had developed. Serge longed to call her his own. For
+a moment his hands trembled; his throat was dry, his heart seemed to
+stop beating.
+
+He tried to shake off this attraction, and walked to the centre of
+the room. At the same time visitors were announced. Le Bride, with
+his inseparable friend, Du Tremblay, escorting Lady Harton, Serge’s
+beautiful cousin, who had caused Micheline some anxiety on the day
+of her marriage, but whom she no longer feared; then the Prince and
+Princess Odescalchi, Venetian nobles, followed by Monsieur Clement
+Souverain, a young Belgian, starter of the Nice races, a great pigeon
+shot, and a mad leader of cotillons.
+
+“Oh, dear me! my lady, all in black?” said Micheline, pointing to the
+tight-fitting black satin worn by the English beauty.
+
+“Yes, my dear Princess; mourning,” replied Lady Harton, with a vigorous
+shake of the hands. “Ball-room mourning--one of my best partners;
+gentlemen, you know Harry Tornwall?”
+
+“Countess Alberti’s cavalier?” added Serge. “Well?”
+
+“Well! he has just killed himself.”
+
+A concert of exclamations arose in the drawing-room, and the visitors
+suddenly surrounded her.
+
+“What! did you not know? It was the sole topic of conversation at Monaco
+to-day. Poor Tornwall, being completely cleared out, went during the
+night to the park belonging to the villa occupied by Countess Alberti,
+and blew his brains out under her window.”
+
+“How dreadful!” exclaimed Micheline.
+
+“It was very bad taste on your countryman’s part,” observed Serge.
+
+“The Countess was furious, and said that Tornwall’s coming to her
+house to kill himself proved clearly to her that he did not know how to
+behave.”
+
+“Do you wish to prevent those who are cleared out from blowing out their
+brains?” inquired Cayrol. “Compel the pawnbrokers of Monaco to lend a
+louis on all pistols.”
+
+“Well,” retorted young Monsieur Souverain, “when the louis is lost the
+players will still be able to hang themselves.”
+
+“Yes,” concluded Marechal, “then at any rate the rope will bring luck to
+others.”
+
+“Gentlemen, do you know that what you have been relating to us is very
+doleful?” said Suzanne Herzog. “Suppose, to vary our impressions, you
+were to ask us to waltz?”
+
+“Yes, on the terrace,” said Le Brede, warmly. “A curtain of orange-trees
+will protect us from the vulgar gaze.”
+
+“Oh! Mademoiselle, what a dream!” sighed Du Tremblay, approaching
+Suzanne. “Waltzing with you! By moonlight.”
+
+“Yes, friend Pierrot!” sang Suzanne, bursting into a laugh.
+
+Already the piano, vigorously attacked by Pierre, desirous of making
+himself useful since he could not be agreeable, was heard in the next
+room. Serge had slowly approached Jeanne.
+
+“Will you do me the favor of dancing with me?” he asked, softly.
+
+The young woman started; her cheeks became pale, and in a sharp tone she
+answered:
+
+“Why don’t you ask your wife?”
+
+Serge smiled.
+
+“You or nobody.”
+
+Jeanne raised her eyes boldly, and looking at him in the face, said,
+defiantly:
+
+“Well, then, nobody!”
+
+And, rising, she took the arm of Cayrol, who was advancing toward her.
+
+The Prince remained motionless for a moment, following them with his
+eyes. Then, seeing his wife alone with Madame Desvarennes, he went out
+on the terrace. Already the couples were dancing on the polished marble.
+Joyful bursts of laughter rose in the perfumed air that sweet March
+night. A deep sorrow came over Serge; an intense disgust with all
+things. The sea sparkled, lit up by the moon. He had a mad longing to
+seize Jeanne in his arms and carry her far away from the world, across
+that immense calm space which seemed made expressly to rock sweetly
+eternal loves.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV. MOTHER AND DAUGHTER
+
+Micheline intended following her husband, but Madame Desvarennes,
+without rising, took hold of her hand.
+
+“Stay with me for a little while,” she said, tenderly. “We have scarcely
+exchanged ten words since my arrival. Come, tell me, are you pleased to
+see me?”
+
+“How can you ask me that?” answered Micheline, seating herself on the
+sofa beside her mother.
+
+“I ask you so that you may tell me so,” resumed Madame Desvarennes,
+softly. “I know what you think, but that is not enough.” She added
+pleadingly:
+
+“Kiss me, will you?”
+
+Micheline threw her arms round her mother’s neck, saying, “Dear mamma!”
+ which made tears spring to the tortured mother’s eyes. She folded
+her-daughter in her arms, and clasped her as a miser holds his treasure.
+
+“It is a long time since I have heard you speak thus to me. Two months!
+And I have been desolate in that large house you used to fill alone in
+the days gone by.”
+
+The young wife interrupted her mother, reproachfully:
+
+“Oh! mamma; I beg you to be reasonable.”
+
+“To be reasonable? In other words, I suppose you mean that I am to get
+accustomed to living without you, after having for twenty years devoted
+my life to you? Bear, without complaining, that my happiness should be
+taken away, and now that I am old lead a life without aim, without joy,
+without trouble even, because I know if you had any troubles you would
+not tell me!”
+
+There was a moment’s pause. Then Micheline, in a constrained manner,
+said:
+
+“What griefs could I have?”
+
+Madame Desvarennes lost all patience, and giving vent to her feelings
+exclaimed, bitterly:
+
+“Those which your husband causes you!”
+
+Micheline arose abruptly.
+
+“Mother!” she cried.
+
+But the mistress had commenced, and with unrestrained bitterness, went
+on:
+
+“That gentleman has behaved toward me in such a manner as to shake my
+confidence in him! After vowing that he would never separate you from
+me, he brought you here, knowing that I could not leave Paris.”
+
+“You are unjust,” retorted Micheline. “You know the doctors ordered me
+to go to Nice.”
+
+“Pooh! You can make doctors order you anything you like!” resumed her
+mother, excitedly, and shaking her head disdainfully. “Your husband said
+to our good Doctor Rigaud: ‘Don’t you think that a season in the South
+would do my wife good?’ The doctor answered: ‘If it does not do her any
+good it certainly won’t do her any harm.’ Then your husband added, ‘just
+take a sheet of paper and write out a prescription. You understand? It
+is for my mother-in-law, who will not be pleased at our going away.’”
+
+And as Micheline seemed to doubt what she was saying, the latter added:
+
+“The doctor told me when I went to see him about it. I never had much
+faith in doctors, and now--”
+
+Micheline felt she was on delicate ground, and wanted to change the
+subject. She soothed her mother as in days gone by, saying:
+
+“Come, mamma; will you never be able to get used to your part? Must
+you always be jealous? You know all wives leave their mothers to follow
+their husbands. It is the law of nature. You, in your day, remember,
+followed your husband, and your mother must have wept.”
+
+“Did my mother love me as I love you?” asked Madame Desvarennes,
+impetuously. “I was brought up differently. We had not time to love each
+other so much. We had to work. The happiness of spoiling one’s child is
+a privilege of the rich. For you there was no down warm enough or silk
+soft enough to line your cradle. You have been petted and worshipped
+for twenty years. Yet, it only needed a man, whom you scarcely knew six
+months ago, to make you forget everything.”
+
+“I have not forgotten anything,” replied Micheline, moved by these
+passionate expressions. “And in my heart you still hold the same place.”
+
+The mistress looked at the young wife, then, in a sad tone, said:
+
+“It is no longer the first place.”
+
+This simple, selfish view made Micheline smile.
+
+“It is just like you, you tyrant!” she exclaimed. “You must be first.
+Come, be satisfied with equality! Remember that you were first in the
+field, and that for twenty years I have loved you, while he has to make
+up for lost time. Don’t try to make a comparison between my love for him
+and my affection for you. Be kind: instead of looking black at him, try
+to love him. I should be so happy to see you united, and to be able,
+without reservation, to think of you both with the same tenderness!”
+
+“Ah! how you talk me over. How charming and caressing you can be when
+you like. And how happy Serge ought to be with a wife like you! It is
+always the way; men like him always get the best wives.”
+
+“I don’t suppose, mamma, you came all the way from Paris to run down my
+husband to me.”
+
+Madame Desvarennes became serious again.
+
+“No; I came to defend you.”
+
+Micheline looked surprised.
+
+“It is time for me to speak. You are seriously menaced,” continued the
+mother.
+
+“In my love?” asked the young wife, in an altered tone.
+
+“No; in your fortune.”
+
+Micheline smiled superbly.
+
+“If that be all!”
+
+This indifference made her mother positively jump.
+
+“You speak very coolly about it! At the rate your husband is spending,
+there will be nothing left of your dowry in six months.”
+
+“Well!” said the Princess, gayly, “you will give us another.”
+
+Madame Desvarennes assumed her cold businesslike manner.
+
+“Ta! ta! ta! Do you think there is no limit to my resources? I gave
+you four millions when you were married, represented by fifteen hundred
+thousand francs, in good stock, a house in the Rue de Rivoli, and eight
+hundred thousand francs which I prudently kept in the business, and
+for which I pay you interest. The fifteen hundred thousand francs have
+vanished. My lawyer came to tell me that the house in the Rue de Rivoli
+had been sold without a reinvestment taking place.”
+
+The mistress stopped. She had spoken in that frank, determined, way of
+hers that was part of her strength. She looked fixedly at Micheline, and
+asked:
+
+“Did you know this, my girl?”
+
+The Princess, deeply troubled, because now it was not a question of
+sentiment, but of serious moment, answered, in a low tone:
+
+“No, mamma.”
+
+“How is that possible?” Madame Desvarennes demanded, hotly. “Nothing can
+be done without your signature.”
+
+“I gave it,” murmured Micheline.
+
+“You gave it!” repeated the mistress in a tone of anger. “When?”
+
+“The day after my marriage.”
+
+“Your husband had the impudence to ask for it the day after your
+marriage?”
+
+Micheline smiled.
+
+“He did not ask for it, mamma,” she replied, with sweetness; “I offered
+it to him. You had settled all on me.”
+
+“Prudently! With a fellow like your husband!”
+
+“Your mistrust must have been humiliating to him. I was ashamed of it.
+I said nothing to you, because I knew you would rather prevent the
+marriage, and I loved Serge. I, therefore, signed the contract which you
+had had prepared. Only the next day I gave a general power of attorney
+to my husband.”
+
+Madame Desvarennes’s anger was over. She was observing Micheline, and
+wished to find out the depth of the abyss into which her daughter had
+thrown herself with blind confidence.
+
+“And what did he say then?” she inquired.
+
+“Nothing,” answered Micheline, simply. “Tears came to his eyes, and he
+kissed me. I saw that this delicacy touched his heart and I was happy.
+There, mamma,” she added with eyes sparkling at the remembrance of the
+pleasure she had experienced, “he may spend as much as he likes; I am
+amply repaid beforehand.”
+
+Madame Desvarennes shrugged her shoulders, and said:
+
+“My dear child, you are mad enough to be locked up. What is there about
+the fellow to turn every woman’s brain?”
+
+“Every woman’s?” exclaimed Micheline, anxiously, looking at her mother.
+
+“That is a manner of speaking. But, my dear, you must understand that I
+cannot be satisfied with what you have just told me. A tear and a kiss!
+Bah! That is not worth your dowry.”
+
+“Come, mamma, do let me be happy.”
+
+“You can be happy without committing follies. You do not need a
+racing-stable.”
+
+“Oh, he has chosen such pretty colors,” interrupted Micheline, with a
+smile. “Pearl-gray and silver, and pink cap. It is charming!”
+
+“You think so? Well, you are not difficult to please. And the club? What
+do you say to his gambling?”
+
+Micheline turned pale, and with a constraint which hurt her mother,
+said:
+
+“Is it necessary to make a fuss about a few games at bouillotte?”
+
+This continual defense of Serge exasperated Madame Desvarennes.
+
+“Don’t talk to me,” she continued, violently. “I am well informed on
+that subject. He leaves you alone every evening to go and play with
+gentlemen who turn up the king with a dexterity the Legitimists must
+envy. My dear, shall I tell you his fortune? He commenced with cards; he
+continues with horses; he will finish with worthless women!”
+
+“Mamma!” cried Micheline, wounded to the heart.
+
+“And your money will pay the piper! But, happily, I am here to put your
+household matters right. I am going to keep your gentleman so well under
+that in future he will walk straight, I’ll warrant you!”
+
+Micheline rose and stood before her mother, looking so pale that the
+latter was frightened.
+
+“Mother,” she said, in trembling tones, “if ever you say one word to my
+husband, take care! I shall never see you again!”
+
+Madame Desvarennes flinched before her daughter. It was no longer the
+weak Micheline who trusted to her tears, but a vehement woman ready to
+defend him whom she loved. And as she remained silent, not daring to
+speak again:
+
+“Mother,” continued Micheline, with sadness, yet firmly, “this
+explanation was inevitable; I have suffered beforehand, knowing that I
+should have to choose between my affection for my husband and my respect
+for you.”
+
+“Between the one and the other,” said the mistress, bitterly, “you don’t
+hesitate, I see.”
+
+“It is my duty; and if I failed in it, you yourself, with your good
+sense, would see it.”
+
+“Oh! Micheline, could I have expected to find you thus?” cried the
+mother, in despair. “What a change! It is not you who are speaking; it
+is not my daughter. Fool that you are! Don’t you see whither you are
+being led? You, yourself, are preparing your own misfortune. Don’t think
+that my words are inspired by jealousy. A higher sentiment dictates
+them, and at this moment my maternal love gives me, I fear, a foresight
+of the future. There is only just time to rescue you from the danger
+into which you are running. You hope to retain your husband by your
+generosity? There where you think you are giving proofs of love he will
+only see proofs of weakness. If you make yourself cheap he will count
+you as nothing. If you throw yourself at his feet he will trample on
+you.”
+
+The Princess shook her head haughtily, and smiled.
+
+“You don’t know him, mamma. He is a gentleman; he understands all these
+delicacies, and there is more to be gained by submitting one’s self to
+his discretion, than by trying to resist his will. You blame his manner
+of existence, but you don’t understand him. I know him. He belongs to
+a different race than you and I. He needs refinements of luxury which
+would be useless to us, but the deprivation of which would be hard to
+him. He suffered much when he was poor, he is making up for it now. We
+are guilty of some extravagances, ‘tis true; but what does it matter?
+For whom have you made a fortune? For me! For what object? My happiness!
+Well, I am happy to surround my Prince with the glory and pomp which
+suits him so well. He is grateful to me; he loves me, and I hold his
+love dearer than all else in the world; for if ever he ceases to love me
+I shall die!”
+
+“Micheline!” cried Madame Desvarennes, beside herself, and seizing her
+daughter with nervous strength.
+
+The young wife quietly allowed her fair head to fall on her mother’s
+shoulder, and whispered faintly in her ear:
+
+“You don’t want to wreck my life. I understand your displeasure. It
+is natural; I feel it. You cannot think otherwise than you do, being a
+simple, hardworking woman; but I beg of you to banish all hatred, and
+confine these ideas within yourself. Say nothing more about them for
+love of me!”
+
+The mother was vanquished. She had never been able to resist that
+suppliant voice.
+
+“Ah! cruel child,” she moaned, “what pain you are causing me!”
+
+“You consent, don’t you, dear mother?” murmured Micheline, falling into
+the arms of her by whom she knew she was adored.
+
+“I will do as you wish,” said Madame Desvarennes, kissing her daughter’s
+hair--that golden hair which, in former days, she loved to stroke.
+
+The strains of the piano sounded on the terrace. In the shade, groups
+of merry dancers were enjoying themselves. Happy voices were heard
+approaching, and Savinien, followed by Marechal and Suzanne, came
+briskly up the steps.
+
+“Oh, aunt, it is not fair,” said the dandy. “If you have come here
+to monopolize Micheline, you will be sent back to Paris. We want a
+vis-a-vis for a quadrille. Come, Princess, it is delightfully cool
+outside, and I am sure you will enjoy it.”
+
+“Monsieur Le Brede has gathered some oranges, and is trying to play
+at cup and ball with them on his nose, while his friend, Monsieur du
+Tremblay, jealous of his success, talks of illuminating the trees with
+bowls of punch,” said Marechal.
+
+“And what is Serge doing?” inquired Micheline, smiling.
+
+“He is talking to my wife on the terrace,” said Cayrol, appearing in the
+gallery.
+
+The young people went off and were lost in the darkness. Madame
+Desvarennes looked at Cayrol. He was happy and calm. There was no trace
+of his former jealousy. During the six months which had elapsed since
+his marriage, the banker had observed his wife closely, her actions, her
+words: nothing had escaped him. He had never found her at fault. Thus,
+reassured, he had given her his confidence and this time forever. Jeanne
+was adorable; he loved her more than ever. She seemed very much changed
+to him. Her disposition, formerly somewhat harsh, had softened, and the
+haughty, capricious girl had become a mild, demure, and somewhat
+serious woman. Unable to read his companion’s thoughts, Cayrol sincerely
+believed that he had been unnecessarily anxious, and that Jeanne’s
+troubles had only been passing fancies. He took credit of the change in
+his wife to himself, and was proud of it.
+
+“Cayrol, oblige me by removing that lamp; it hurts my eyes,” said Madame
+Desvarennes, anxious that the traces on her face, caused by her late
+discussion with her daughter, should not be visible. “Then ask Jeanne to
+come here for a few minutes. I have something to say to her.”
+
+“Certainly,” said Cayrol, taking the lamp off the table and carrying it
+into the adjoining room.
+
+Darkness did Madame Desvarennes good. It refreshed her mind and calmed
+her brow. The noise of dancing reached her. She commenced thinking. So
+it had vainly tried to prove to her that a life of immoderate pleasure
+was not conducive to happiness. The young wife had stopped her ears so
+that she might not hear, and closed her eyes that she might not see. Her
+mother asked herself if she did not exaggerate the evil. Alas! no. She
+saw that she was not mistaken. Examining the society around her, men and
+women: everywhere was feverish excitement, dissipation, and nullity. You
+might rummage through their brains without finding one practical idea;
+in all their hearts, there was not one lofty aspiration. These people,
+in their daily life were like squirrels in a cage, and because they
+moved, they thought they were progressing. In them scepticism had killed
+belief; religion, family, country, were, as they phrased it, all humbug.
+They had only one aim, one passion--to enjoy themselves. Their watchword
+was “pleasure.” All those who did not perish of consumption would die in
+lunatic asylums.
+
+What was she doing in the midst of this rottenness? She, the woman
+of business? Could she hope to regenerate these poor wretches by her
+example? No! She could not teach them to be good, and they excelled in
+teaching others harm. She must leave this gilded vice, taking with
+her those she loved, and leave the idle and incompetent to consume and
+destroy themselves.
+
+She felt disgusted, and resolved to do all to tear Micheline away
+from the contagion. In the meantime she must question Jeanne. A shadow
+appeared on the threshold: it was hers. In the darkness of the gallery
+Serge crept behind her without being seen. He had been watching Jeanne,
+and seeing her go away alone, had followed her. In the angle of the
+large bay-window, opening into the garden, he waited with palpitating
+heart. Madame Desvarennes’s voice was heard in the silence of the
+drawing-room; he listened.
+
+“Sit down, Jeanne; our interview will be short, and it could not be
+delayed, for to-morrow I shall not be here.”
+
+“You are leaving so soon?”
+
+“Yes; I only left Paris on my daughter’s account, and on yours. My
+daughter knows what I had to tell her; now it is your turn! Why did you
+come to Nice?”
+
+“I could not do otherwise.”
+
+“Because?”
+
+“Because my husband wished it.”
+
+“You ought to have made him wish something else. Your power over him is
+absolute.”
+
+There was a moment’s pause. Then Jeanne answered:
+
+“I feared to insist lest I should awaken his suspicions.”
+
+“Good! But admitting that you came to Nice, why accept hospitality in
+this house?”
+
+“Micheline offered it to us,” said Jeanne.
+
+“And even that did not make you refuse. What part do you purpose playing
+here? After six months of honesty, are you going to change your mind?”
+
+Serge, behind his shelter, shuddered. Madame Desvarennes’s words were
+clear. She knew all.
+
+Jeanne’s voice was indignant when she replied:
+
+“By what right do you insult me by such a suspicion?”
+
+“By the right which you have given me in not keeping to your bargain.
+You ought to have kept out of the way, and I find you here, seeking
+danger and already trying those flirtations which are the forerunners of
+sin, and familiarizing yourself with evil before wholly giving yourself
+up to it.”
+
+“Madame!” cried Jeanne, passionately.
+
+“Answer! Have you kept the promise you made me?”
+
+“Have the hopes which you held out to me been realized?” replied Jeanne,
+with despair. “For six months I have been away, and have I found peace
+of mind and heart? The duty which you pointed out to me as a remedy for
+the pain which tortured me I have fruitlessly followed. I have wept,
+hoping that the trouble within me would be washed away with my tears. I
+have prayed to Heaven, and asked that I might love my husband. But, no!
+That man is as odious to me as ever. Now I have lost all my illusions,
+and find myself joined to him for the rest of my days! I have to tell
+lies, to wear a mask, to smile! It is revolting, and I suffer! Now
+that you know what is passing within me, judge, and say whether your
+reproaches are not a useless cruelty.”
+
+On hearing Jeanne, Madame Desvarennes felt herself moved with deep
+pity. She asked herself whether it was not unjust for that poor child to
+suffer so much. She had never done anything wrong, and her conduct was
+worthy of esteem.
+
+“Unhappy woman!” she said.
+
+“Yes, unhappy, indeed,” resumed Jeanne, “because I have nothing to cling
+to, nothing to sustain me. My mind is afflicted with feverish thoughts,
+my heart made desolate with bitter regrets. My will alone protects me,
+and in a moment of weakness it may betray me.”
+
+“You still love him?” asked Madame Desvarennes, in a deep voice which
+made Serge quiver.
+
+“Do I know? There are times when I think I hate him. What I have endured
+since I have been here is incredible! Everything galls me, irritates me.
+My husband is blind, Micheline unsuspicious, and Serge smiles quietly,
+as if he were preparing some treachery. Jealousy, anger, contempt, are
+all conflicting within me. I feel that I ought to go away, and still I
+feel a horrible delight in remaining.”
+
+“Poor child!” said Madame Desvarennes. “I pity you from my soul. Forgive
+my unjust words; you have done all in your power. You have had momentary
+weaknesses like all human beings. You must be helped, and may rely on
+me. I will speak to your husband to-morrow; he shall take you away.
+Lacking happiness, you must have peace. Go you are a brave heart, and if
+Heaven be just, you will be rewarded.”
+
+Serge heard the sound of a kiss. In an embrace, the mother had blessed
+her adopted daughter. Then the Prince saw Madame Desvarennes go slowly
+past him. And the silence was broken only by the sobs of Jeanne who was
+half lying on the sofa in the darkness.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI. THE TELLTALE KISS
+
+Serge slipped from his hiding-place and came toward Jeanne. The carpet
+deadened the sound of his steps. The young woman was gazing into vacancy
+and breathing with difficulty. He looked at her for a moment without
+speaking; then, leaning over her shoulder.
+
+“Is it true, Jeanne,” he murmured, softly, “that you hate me?”
+
+Jeanne arose, bewildered, exclaiming,
+
+“Serge!”
+
+“Yes, Serge,” answered the Prince, “who has never ceased to love you.”
+
+A deep blush spread over the young woman’s face.
+
+“Leave me,” she said. “Your language is unworthy of a man. I will not
+listen to you.”
+
+And with a quick step she walked toward the gallery. Serge threw himself
+in her way, saying:
+
+“You must stop; you cannot escape me.”
+
+“But this is madness,” exclaimed Jeanne, moving away. “Do you forget
+where we are?”
+
+“Do you forget what you have just been saying?” retorted Serge. “I was
+there; I did not miss a word.”
+
+“If you heard me,” said Jeanne, “you know that everything separates us.
+My duty, yours, and my will.”
+
+“A will which is enforced, and against which your heart rebels. A will
+to which I will not submit.”
+
+As he spoke, Serge advanced toward her, trying to seize her in his arms.
+
+“Take care!” replied Jeanne. “Micheline and my husband are there. You
+must be mad to forget it. If you come a step farther I shall call out.”
+
+“Call, then!” cried Serge, clasping her in his arms.
+
+Jeanne tried to free herself from him, but could not.
+
+“Serge,” she said, paling with mingled anguish and rapture in the arms
+of him whom she adored, “what you are doing is cowardly and base!”
+
+A kiss stopped the words on her lips. Jeanne felt herself giving way.
+She made a supreme effort.
+
+“I won’t, Serge!” she stammered. “Have mercy!”
+
+Tears of shame rolled down her face.
+
+“No! you belong to me. The other, your husband, stole you from me. I
+take you back. I love you!”
+
+The young woman fell on a seat.
+
+Serge repeated,
+
+“I love you! I love you! I love you!”
+
+A fearful longing took possession of Jeanne. She no longer pushed away
+the arms which clasped her. She placed her hands on Serge’s shoulder,
+and with a deep sigh gave herself up.
+
+A profound silence reigned around. Suddenly a sound of approaching
+voices roused them, and at the same moment the heavy curtain which
+separated the room from the adjoining drawing-room was lifted. A shadow
+appeared on the threshold, as they were still in each other’s arms. The
+stifled exclamation, “O God!” followed by a sob of agony, resounded.
+The door curtain fell, surrounding with its folds the unknown witness of
+that terrible scene.
+
+Jeanne had risen, trying to collect her ideas. A sudden light dawned on
+her mind; she realized in a moment the extent of her crime, and uttering
+a cry of horror and despair, she escaped, followed by Serge, through the
+gallery.
+
+Then the heavy curtain was lifted again, and tottering, livid, almost
+dead, Micheline entered the room. Pierre, serious and cold, walked
+behind her. The Princess, feeling tired, had come into the house. Chance
+had led her there to witness this proof of misfortune and treason.
+
+Both she and Delarue looked at each other, silent and overwhelmed. Their
+thoughts whirled through their brains with fearful rapidity. In a moment
+they looked back on their existence. He saw the pale betrothed of whom
+he had dreamed as a wife, who had willingly given herself to another,
+and who now found herself so cruelly punished. She measured the distance
+which separated these two men: the one good, loyal, generous; the other
+selfish, base, and unworthy. And seeing him whom she adored, so vile and
+base compared to him whom she had disdained, Micheline burst into bitter
+tears.
+
+Pierre tremblingly hastened toward her. The Princess made a movement
+to check him, but she saw on the face of her childhood’s friend such
+sincere grief and honest indignation, that she felt as safe, with him
+as if he had really been her brother. Overcome, she let her head fall on
+his shoulder, and wept.
+
+The sound of approaching footsteps made Micheline arise. She recognized
+her husband’s step, and hastily seizing Pierre’s hand, said:
+
+“Never breathe a word; forget what you have seen.”
+
+Then, with deep grief, she added:
+
+“If Serge knew that I had seen him unawares he would never forgive me!”
+
+Drying her tears, and still tottering from the shock, she left the room.
+Pierre remained alone, quite stunned; pitying, yet blaming the poor
+woman, who, in her outraged love, still had the absurd courage to hold
+her tongue and to resign herself. Anger seized on him, and the more
+timid Micheline seemed herself, the more violent and passionate he felt.
+
+Serge came back to the room. After the first moment of excitement, he
+had reflected, and wanted to know by whom he had been observed. Was it
+Madame Desvarennes, Micheline, or Cayrol, who had come in? At this idea
+he trembled, measuring the possible results of the imprudence he had
+been guilty of. He resolved to face the difficulty if it were either of
+these three interested parties, and to impose silence if he had to deal
+with an indifferent person. He took the lamp which Madame Desvarennes
+had a short time before asked Cayrol to remove and went into the room.
+Pierre was there alone.
+
+The two men measured each other with their looks. Delarue guessed the
+anxiety of Serge, and the Prince understood the hostility of Pierre. He
+turned pale.
+
+“It was you who came in?” he asked, boldly.
+
+“Yes,” replied Pierre, with severity.
+
+The Prince hesitated for a second. He was evidently seeking a polite
+form to express his request. He did not find one, and in a threatening
+manner, he resumed:
+
+“You must hold your tongue, otherwise--”
+
+“Otherwise?” inquired Pierce, aggressively.
+
+“What is the use of threats?” replied Serge, already calmed. “Excuse me;
+I know that you will not tell; if not for my sake at least for that of
+others.”
+
+“Yes, for others,” said Pierre, passionately; “for others whom you have
+basely sacrificed, and who deserve all your respect and love; for
+Madame Desvarennes, whose high intelligence you have not been able to
+understand; for Micheline, whose tender heart you have not been able to
+appreciate. Yes, for their sakes I will hold my peace, not out of regard
+for you, because you neither deserve consideration nor esteem.”
+
+The Prince advanced a step, and exclaimed:
+
+“Pierre!”
+
+Pierre did not move, and looking Serge in the face, continued:
+
+“The truth is unpleasant to you, still you must hear it. You act
+according to your fancies. Principles and morals, to which all men
+submit, are dead letters to you. Your own pleasure above all things, and
+always! That is your rule, eh? and so much the worse if ruin and trouble
+to others are the consequences? You only have to deal with two women,
+and you profit by it. But I warn you that if you continue to crush them
+I will be their defender.”
+
+Serge had listened to all this with disdainful impassibility, and when
+Pierre had finished, he smiled, snapped his fingers, and turning toward
+the young man:
+
+“My dear fellow,” said he, “allow me to tell you that I think you are
+very impertinent. You come here meddling with my affairs. What authority
+have you? Are you a relative? A connection? By what right do you preach
+this sermon?”
+
+As he concluded, Serge seated himself and laughed with a careless air.
+
+Pierre answered, gravely:
+
+“I was betrothed to Micheline when she saw and loved you: that is my
+right! I could have married her, but sacrificed my love to hers: that
+is my authority! And it is in the name of my shattered hopes and lost
+happiness that I call you to account for her future peace.”
+
+Serge had risen, he was deeply embittered at what Delarue had just told
+him, and was trying to recover his calmness. Pierre, trembling with
+emotion and anger, was also striving to check their influence.
+
+“It seems to me,” said the Prince, mockingly, “that in your claim there
+is more than the outcry of an irritated conscience; it is the complaint
+of a heart that still loves.”
+
+“And if that were so?” retorted Pierre. “Yes, I love her, but with a
+pious love, from the depth of my soul, as one would love a saint; and I
+only suffer the more to see her suffering.”
+
+Somewhat irritated the Prince exclaimed, impatiently:
+
+“Oh, don’t let us have a lyric recitation; let us be brief and clear.
+What do you want? Explain yourself. I don’t suppose that you have
+addressed this rebuke to me solely for the purpose of telling me that
+you are in love with my wife!”
+
+Pierre disregarded what was insulting in the Prince’s answer, and
+calming himself, by force of will, replied:
+
+“I desire, since you ask me, that you forget the folly and error of
+a moment, and that you swear to me on your honor never to see Madame
+Cayrol again.”
+
+Pierre’s moderation wounded the Prince more than his rage had affected
+him. He felt petty beside this devoted friend, who only thought of the
+happiness of her whom he loved without hope. His temper increased.
+
+“And what if I refuse to lend myself to those whims which you express so
+candidly?”
+
+“Then,” said Pierre, resolutely, “I shall remember that, when renouncing
+Micheline, I promised to be a brother to her, and if you compel me I
+will defend her.”
+
+“You are threatening me, I think,” cried Serge, beside himself.
+
+“No! I warn you.”
+
+“Enough,” said the Prince, scarcely able to command himself. “For any
+little service you have rendered me, from henceforth we are quits. Don’t
+think that I am one of those who yield to violence. Keep out of my path;
+it will be prudent.”
+
+“Listen, then, to this. I am not one of those who shirk a duty,
+whatever the peril be in accomplishing it. You know what price I put on
+Micheline’s happiness; you are responsible for it, and I shall oblige
+you to respect it.”
+
+And leaving Serge dumb with suppressed rage, Pierre went out on the
+terrace.
+
+On the high road the sound of the carriages bearing away Savinien,
+Herzog and his daughter, resounded in the calm starry night. In
+the villa everything was quiet. Pierre breathed with delight; he
+instinctively turned his eyes toward the brilliant sky, and in the
+far-off firmament, the star which he appropriated to himself long ago,
+and which he had so desperately looked for when he was unhappy, suddenly
+appeared bright and twinkling. He sighed and moved on.
+
+The Prince spent a part of the night at the club; he was excessively
+nervous, and after alternate losses and gains, he retired, carrying off
+a goodly sum from his opponents. It was a long time since he had been so
+lucky, and on his way home he smiled when he thought how false was the
+proverb, “Lucky at play, unlucky in love.” He thought of that adorable
+Jeanne whom he had held in his arms a few hours before, and who had so
+eagerly clung to him. He understood that she had never ceased to belong
+to him. The image of Cayrol, self-confident man, happy in his love,
+coming to his mind, caused Serge to laugh.
+
+There was no thought for Micheline; she had been the stepping-stone to
+fortune for him; he knew that she was gentle and thought her not very
+discerning. He could easily deceive her; with a few caresses and a
+little consideration he could maintain the illusion of his love for her.
+Madame Desvarennes alone inconvenienced him in his arrangements. She was
+sagacious, and on several occasions he had seen her unveil plots which
+he thought were well contrived. He must really beware of her. He had
+often noticed in her voice and look an alarming hardness. She was not a
+woman to be afraid of a scandal. On the contrary, she would hail it with
+joy, and be happy to get rid of him whom she hated with all her might.
+
+In spite of himself, Serge remembered the night of his union to
+Micheline, when he had said to Madame Desvarennes: “Take my life; it is
+yours!” She had replied seriously, and almost threateningly: “Very well;
+I accept it!” These words now resounded in his ears like a verdict.
+He promised himself to play a sure game with Madame Desvarennes. As
+to Cayrol, he was out of the question; he had only been created as a
+plaything for princes such as Serge; his destiny was written on his
+forehead, and he could not escape. If it had not been Panine, some one
+else would have done the same thing for him. Besides, how could that
+ex-cowherd expect to keep such a woman as Jeanne was to himself. It
+would have been manifestly unfair.
+
+The Prince found his valet asleep in the hall. He went quickly to his
+bedroom, and slept soundly without remorse, without dreams, until noon.
+Coming down to breakfast, he found the family assembled. Savinien had
+come to see his aunt, before whom he wanted to place a “colossal
+idea.” This time, he said, it was worth a fortune. He hoped to draw six
+thousand francs from the mistress who, according to her usual custom,
+could not fail to buy from him what he called his idea.
+
+The dandy was thoughtful; he was preparing his batteries. Micheline,
+pale, and her eyes red for want of rest, was seated near the gallery,
+silently watching the sea, on which were passing, in the distance,
+fishing-smacks with their sails looking like white-winged birds. Madame
+Desvarennes was serious, and was giving Marechal instructions respecting
+her correspondence, while at the same time watching her daughter out
+of the corner of her eye. Micheline’s depressed manner caused her some
+anxiety; she guessed some mystery. Still the young wife’s trouble might
+be the result of last evening’s serious interview. But the sagacity of
+the mistress guessed a new incident. Perhaps some scene between Serge
+and Micheline in regard to the club. She was on the watch.
+
+Cayrol and Jeanne had gone for a drive to Mentone. With a single glance
+the Prince took in the attitude of one and all, and after a polite
+exchange of words and a careless kiss on Micheline’s brow, he seated
+himself at table. The repast was silent. Each one seemed preoccupied.
+Serge anxiously asked himself whether Pierre had spoken. Marechal,
+deeply interested in his plate, answered briefly, when addressed by
+Madame Desvarennes. All the guests seemed constrained. It was a relief
+when they rose from the table.
+
+Micheline took her husband’s arm and leading him into the garden, under
+the shade of the magnolias, said to him:
+
+“My mother leaves us to-night. She has received a letter recalling her
+to Paris. Her journey here was, you no doubt know, on our account. Our
+absence made her sad, and she could no longer refrain from seeing me, so
+she came. On her return to Paris she will feel very lonely, and as I am
+so often alone--”
+
+“Micheline!” interrupted Serge, with astonishment.
+
+“It is not a reproach, dear,” continued the young wife, sweetly. “You
+have your engagements. There are necessities to which one must submit;
+you do what you think is expected of you, and it must be right. Only
+grant me a favor.”
+
+“A favor? To you?” replied Serge, troubled at the unexpected turn the
+interview was taking. “Speak, dear one; are you not at liberty to do as
+you like?”
+
+“Well,” said Micheline, with a faint smile, “as you are so kindly
+disposed, promise that we shall leave for Paris this week. The season is
+far advancing. All your friends will have returned. It will not be such
+a great sacrifice which I ask from you.”
+
+“Willingly,” said Serge, surprised at Micheline’s sudden resolution.
+“But, admit,” added he, gravely, “that your mother has worried you a
+little on the subject.”
+
+“My mother knows nothing of my project,” returned the Princess, coldly.
+“I did not care to say anything about it to her until I had your
+consent. A refusal on your part would have seemed too cruel. Already,
+you are not the best of friends, and it is one of my regrets. You must
+be good to my mother, Serge; she is getting old, and we owe her much
+gratitude and love.”
+
+Panine remained silent. Could such a sudden change have come over
+Micheline in one day? She who lately sacrificed her mother for her
+husband now came and pleaded in favor of Madame Desvarennes. What had
+happened?
+
+He promptly decided on his course of action.
+
+“All that you ask me shall be religiously fulfilled. No concession will
+be too difficult for me to make if it please you. You wish to return
+to Paris, we will go as soon as our arrangements have been made. Tell
+Madame Desvarennes, then, and let her see in our going a proof that I
+wish to live on good terms with her.”
+
+Micheline simply said: “Thank you.” And Serge having gallantly kissed
+her hand, she regained the terrace.
+
+Left alone, Serge asked himself the meaning of the transformation in his
+wife. For the first time she had shown signs of taking the initiative.
+Had the question of money been raised by Madame Desvarennes, and was
+Micheline taking him back to Paris in the hope of inducing a change in
+his habits? They would see. The idea that Micheline had seen him with
+Jeanne never occurred to him. He did not think his wife capable of so
+much self-control. Loving as she was, she could not have controlled
+her feelings, and would have made a disturbance. Therefore he had no
+suspicions.
+
+As to their leaving for Paris he was delighted at the idea. Jeanne and
+Cayrol were leaving Nice at the end of the week. Lost in the vastness of
+the capital, the lovers would be more secure. They could see each other
+at leisure. Serge would hire a small house in the neighborhood of
+the Bois de Boulogne, and there they could enjoy each other’s society
+without observation.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII. CAYROL IS BLIND
+
+Micheline, on her return to Paris, was a cause of anxiety to all her
+friends. Morally and physically she was changed. Her former gayety had
+disappeared. In a few weeks she became thin and seemed to be wasting
+away. Madame Desvarennes, deeply troubled, questioned her daughter,
+who answered, evasively, that she was perfectly well and had nothing to
+trouble her. The mother called in Doctor Rigaud, although she did not
+believe in the profession, and, after a long conference, took him to
+see Micheline. The doctor examined her, and declared it was nothing but
+debility. Madame Desvarennes was assailed with gloomy forebodings. She
+spent sleepless nights, during which she thought her daughter was dead;
+she heard the funeral dirges around her coffin. This strong woman wept,
+not daring to show her anxiety, and trembling lest Micheline should
+suspect her fears.
+
+Serge was careless and happy, treating the apprehensions of those
+surrounding him with perfect indifference. He did not think his wife was
+ill--a little tired perhaps, or it might be change of climate, nothing
+serious. He had quite fallen into his old ways, spending every night at
+the club, and a part of the day in a little house in the Avenue Maillot,
+near the Bois de Boulogne. He had found one charmingly furnished, and
+there he sheltered his guilty happiness.
+
+It was here that Jeanne came, thickly veiled, since her return from
+Nice. They each had a latchkey belonging to the door opening upon the
+Bois. The one who arrived first waited for the other, within the house,
+whose shutters remained closed to deceive passers-by. Then the hour of
+departure came; the hope of meeting again did not lessen their sadness
+at parting.
+
+Jeanne seldom went to the Rue Saint-Dominique. The welcome that
+Micheline gave her was the same as usual, but Jeanne thought she
+discovered a coldness which made her feel uncomfortable; and she did not
+care to meet her lover’s wife, so she made her visits scarce.
+
+Cayrol came every morning to talk on business matters with Madame
+Desvarennes. He had resumed the direction of his banking establishment.
+The great scheme of the European Credit Company had been launched
+by Herzog, and promised great results. Still Herzog caused Cayrol
+considerable anxiety. Although a man of remarkable intelligence, he
+had a great failing, and by trying to grasp too much often ended by
+accomplishing nothing. Scarcely was one scheme launched when another
+idea occurred to him, to which he sacrificed the former.
+
+Thus, Herzog was projecting a still grander scheme to be based on the
+European Credit. Cayrol, less sanguine, and more practical, was afraid
+of the new scheme, and when Herzog spoke to him about it, said that
+things were well enough for him as they were, and that he would not be
+implicated in any fresh financial venture however promising.
+
+Cayrol’s refusal had vexed Herzog. The German knew what opinion he was
+held in by the public, and that without the prestige of Cayrol’s name,
+and behind that, the house of Desvarennes, he would never have been able
+to float the European Credit as it had been. He was too cunning not to
+know this, and Cayrol having declined to join him, he looked round in
+search of a suitable person to inspire the shareholders with confidence.
+
+His daughter often went to the Rue Saint-Dominique. Madame Desvarennes
+and Micheline had taken a fancy to her, as she was serious, natural, and
+homelike. They liked to see her, although her father was not congenial
+to their taste. Herzog had not succeeded in making friends with the
+mistress; she disliked and instinctively mistrusted him.
+
+One day it was rumored that Suzanne Herzog had gone in for an
+examination at the Hotel de Ville, and had gained a certificate: People
+thought it was very ridiculous. What was the good of so much learning
+for a girl who would have such a large fortune, and who would never know
+want. Savinien thought it was affectation and most laughable! Madame
+Desvarennes thought it was most interesting; she liked workers, and
+considered that the richer people were, the more reason they had
+to work. Herzog had allowed his daughter to please herself and said
+nothing.
+
+Springtime had come, and fine weather, yet Micheline’s health did not
+improve. She did not suffer, but a sort of languor had come over
+her. For days she never quitted her reclining-chair. She was very
+affectionate toward her mother, and seemed to be making up for the lack
+of affection shown during the first months of her marriage.
+
+She never questioned Serge as to his manner of spending his time,
+though she seldom saw him, except at meal hours. Every week she wrote to
+Pierre, who was buried in his mines, and after every despatch her mother
+noticed that she seemed sadder and paler.
+
+Serge and Jeanne grew bolder. They felt that they were not watched. The
+little house seemed too small for them, and they longed to go beyond the
+garden, as the air of the Bois was so sweet and scented with violets.
+A feeling of bravado came over them, and they did not mind being seen
+together. People would think they were a newly-married couple.
+
+One afternoon they sallied forth, Jeanne wearing a thick veil, and
+trembling at the risk she was running, yet secretly delighted at going.
+They chose the most unfrequented paths and solitary nooks. Then, after
+an hour’s stroll, they returned briskly, frightened at the sounds of
+carriages rolling in the distance. They often went out after that, and
+chose in preference the paths near the pond of Madrid where, behind
+sheltering shrubs, they sat talking and listening to the busy hum of
+Parisian life, seemingly so far away.
+
+One day, about four o’clock, Madame Desvarennes was going to Saint-Cloud
+on business, and was crossing the Bois de Boulogne. Her coachman had
+chosen the most unfrequented paths to save time. She had opened the
+carriage-window, and was enjoying the lovely scent from the shrubs.
+Suddenly a watering-cart stopped the way. Madame Desvarennes looked
+through the window to see what was the matter, and remained stupefied.
+At the turning of a path she espied Serge, with a woman on his arm. She
+uttered a cry that caused the couple to turn round. Seeing that pale
+face, they sought to hide themselves.
+
+In a moment Madame Desvarennes was out of the carriage. The guilty
+couple fled down a path. Without caring what might be said of her, and
+goaded on by a fearful rage, she tried to follow them. She especially
+wished to see the woman who was closely veiled. She guessed her to be
+Jeanne. But the younger woman, terrified, fled like a deer down a side
+walk. Madame Desvarennes, quite out of breath, was obliged to stop. She
+heard the slamming of a carriage-door, and a hired brougham that had
+been waiting at the end of the path swept by her bearing the lovers
+toward the town.
+
+The mistress hesitated a moment, then said to her coachman:
+
+“Drive home.” And, abandoning her business, she arrived in the Rue
+Saint-Dominique a few minutes after the Prince.
+
+With a bound, without going through the offices, without even taking
+off her bonnet and cloak, she went up to Serge’s apartments. Without
+hesitating, she entered the smoking-room.
+
+Panine was there. Evidently he was expecting her. On seeing Madame
+Desvarennes he rose, with a smile:
+
+“One can see that you are at home,” said he, ironically; “you come in
+without knocking.”
+
+“No nonsense; the moment is ill-chosen,” briefly retorted the mistress.
+“Why did you run away when you saw me a little while ago?”
+
+“You have such a singular way of accosting people,” he answered,
+lightly. “You come on like a charge of cavalry. The person with whom I
+was talking was frightened, she ran away and I followed her.”
+
+“She was doing wrong then if she was frightened. Does she know me?”
+
+“Who does not know you? You are almost notorious--in the corn-market!”
+
+Madame Desvarennes allowed the insult to pass without remark, and
+advancing toward Serge, said:
+
+“Who is this woman?”
+
+“Shall I introduce her to you?” inquired the Prince, quietly. “She is
+one of my countrywomen, a Polish--”
+
+“You are a liar!” cried Madame Desvarennes, unable to control her temper
+any longer. “You are lying most impudently!”
+
+And she was going to add, “That woman was Jeanne!” but prudence checked
+the sentence on her lips.
+
+Serge turned pale.
+
+“You forget yourself strangely, Madame,” he said, in a dry tone.
+
+“I forgot myself a year ago, not now! It was when I was weak that I
+forgot myself. When Micheline was between you and me I neither dared to
+speak nor act.
+
+“But now, since after almost ruining my poor daughter, you deceive her,
+I have no longer any consideration for you. To make her come over to my
+side I have only to speak one word.”
+
+“Well, speak it! She is there. I will call her!”
+
+Madame Desvarennes, in that supreme moment, was assailed by a doubt.
+What if Micheline, in her blind love, did not believe her?
+
+She raised her hand to stop Serge.
+
+“Will not the fear of killing my daughter by this revelation stay you?”
+ asked she, bitterly. “What manner of man are you to have so little heart
+and conscience?”
+
+Panine burst into laughter.
+
+“You see what your threats are worth, and what value I place on them.
+Spare them in the future. You ask me what manner of man I am? I will
+tell you. I have not much patience, I hate to have my liberty interfered
+with, and I have a horror of family jars. I expect to be master of my
+own house.”
+
+Madame Desvarennes was roused at these words. Her rage had abated on her
+daughter’s account, but now it rose to a higher pitch.
+
+“Ah! so this is it, is it?” she said. “You would like perfect liberty,
+I see! You make such very good use of it. You don’t like to hear remarks
+upon it. It is more convenient, in fact! You wish to be master in your
+own house? In your own house! But, in truth, what are you here to put on
+airs toward me? Scarcely more than a servant. A husband receiving wages
+from me!”
+
+Serge, with flashing eyes, made a terrible movement. He tried to speak,
+but his lips trembled, and he could not utter a sound. By a sign he
+showed Madame Desvarennes the door. The latter looked resolutely at the
+Prince, and with energy which nothing could henceforth soften, added:
+
+“You will have to deal with me in future! Good-day!”
+
+And, leaving the room with as much calmness as she felt rage when
+entering it, she went down to the counting-house.
+
+Cayrol was sitting chatting with Marechal in his room. He was telling
+him that Herzog’s rashness caused him much anxiety. Marechal did
+not encourage his confidence. The secretary’s opinion on the want of
+morality on the part of the financier had strengthened. The good feeling
+he entertained toward the daughter had not counterbalanced the bad
+impression he had of the father, and he warmly advised Cayrol to break
+off all financial connection with such a man. Cayrol, indeed, had now
+very little to do with the European Credit. The office was still at
+his banking house, and the payments for shares were still made into
+his bank, but as soon as the new scheme which Herzog was preparing was
+launched, the financier intended settling in splendid offices which were
+being rapidly completed in the neighborhood of the Opera. Herzog might
+therefore commit all the follies which entered his head. Cayrol would be
+out of it.
+
+Madame Desvarennes entered. At the first glance, the men noticed the
+traces of the emotion she had just experienced. They rose and waited in
+silence. When the mistress was in a bad humor everybody gave way to
+her. It was the custom. She nodded to Cayrol, and walked up and down the
+office, absorbed in her own thoughts. Suddenly stopping, she said:
+
+“Marechal, prepare Prince Panine’s account.”
+
+The secretary looked up amazed, and did not seem to understand.
+
+“Well! The Prince has had an overdraft; you will give me a statement;
+that’s all! I wish to see how we two stand.”
+
+The two men, astonished to hear Madame Desvarennes speak of her
+son-in-law as she would of a customer, exchanged looks.
+
+“You have lent my son-in-law money, Cayrol?”
+
+And as the banker remained silent, still looking at the secretary,
+Madame added:
+
+“Does the presence of Marechal make you hesitate in answering me? Speak
+before him; I have told you more than a hundred times that he knows my
+business as well as I do.”
+
+“I have, indeed, advanced some money to the Prince,” replied Cayrol.
+
+“How much?” inquired Madame Desvarennes.
+
+“I don’t remember the exact amount. I was happy to oblige your
+son-in-law.”
+
+“You were wrong, and have acted unwisely in not acquainting me of the
+fact. It is thus that his follies have been encouraged by obliging
+friends. At all events, I ask you now not to lend him any more.”
+
+Cayrol seemed put out, and, with his hands in his pockets and his
+shoulders up, replied:
+
+“This is a delicate matter which you ask of me. You will cause a quarrel
+between the Prince and myself--”
+
+“Do you prefer quarreling with me?” asked the mistress.
+
+“Zounds! No!” replied the banker. “But you place me in an embarrassing
+position! I have just promised to lend Serge a considerable sum
+to-night.”
+
+“Well! you will not give it to him.”
+
+“That is an act which he will scarcely forgive,” sighed Cayrol.
+
+Madame Desvarennes placed her hand on the shoulder of the banker, and
+looking seriously at him, said:
+
+“You would not have forgiven me if I had allowed you to render him this
+service.”
+
+A vague uneasiness filled Cayrol’s heart, a shadow seemed to pass before
+his eyes, and in a troubled voice he said to the mistress:
+
+“Why so?”
+
+“Because he would have repaid you badly.”
+
+Cayrol thought the mistress was alluding to the money he had already
+lent, and his fears vanished. Madame Desvarennes would surely repay it.
+
+“So you are cutting off his resources?” he asked.
+
+“Completely,” answered the mistress. “He takes too much liberty, that
+young gentleman. He was wrong to forget that I hold the purse-strings. I
+don’t mind paying, but I want a little deference shown me for my money.
+Good-by! Cayrol, remember my instructions.”
+
+And, shaking hands with the banker, Madame Desvarennes entered her own
+office, leaving the two men together.
+
+There was a moment’s pause: Cayrol was the first to break the silence.
+
+“What do you think of the Prince’s position?”
+
+“His financial position?” asked Marechal.
+
+“Oh, no! I know all about that! I mean his relation to Madame
+Desvarennes.”
+
+“Zounds! If we were in Venice in the days of the Aqua-Toffana, the
+sbirri and the bravi--”
+
+“What rubbish!” interrupted Cayrol, shrugging his shoulders.
+
+“Let me continue,” said the secretary, “and you can shrug your shoulders
+afterward if you like. If we had been in Venice, knowing Madame
+Desvarennes as I do, it would not have been surprising to me to have had
+Master Serge found at the bottom of the canal some fine morning.”
+
+“You are not in earnest,” muttered the banker.
+
+“Much more so than you think. Only you know we live in the nineteenth
+century, and we cannot make Providence interpose in the form of a
+dagger or poison so easily as in former days. Arsenic and verdigris are
+sometimes used, but it does not answer. Scientific people have had the
+meanness to invent tests by which poison can be detected even when there
+is none.”
+
+“You are making fun of me,” said Cayrol, laughing.
+
+“I! No. Come, do you wish to do a good stroke of business? Find a man
+who will consent to rid Madame Desvarennes of her son-in-law. If he
+succeed, ask Madame Desvarennes for a million francs. I will pay it at
+only twenty-five francs’ discount, if you like!”
+
+Cayrol was thoughtful. Marechal continued:
+
+“You have known the house a long time, how is it you don’t understand
+the mistress better? I tell you, and remember this: between Madame
+Desvarennes and the Prince there is a mortal hatred. One of the two will
+destroy the other. Which? Betting is open.”
+
+“But what must I do? The Prince relies on me--”
+
+“Go and tell him not to do so any longer.”
+
+“Faith, no! I would rather he came to my office. I should be more at
+ease. Adieu, Marechal.”
+
+“Adieu, Monsieur Cayrol. But on whom will you bet?”
+
+“Before I venture I should like to know on whose side the Princess is.”
+
+“Ah, dangler! You think too much of the women! Some day you will be let
+in through that failing of yours!”
+
+Cayrol smiled conceitedly, and went away. Marechal sat down at his desk,
+and took out a sheet of paper.
+
+“I must tell Pierre that everything is going on well here,” he murmured.
+“If he knew what was taking place he would soon be back, and might be
+guilty of some foolery or other.” So he commenced writing.
+
+
+
+
+BOOK 4.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII. THE UNIVERSAL CREDIT COMPANY
+
+The banking-house of Cayrol had not a very imposing appearance. It was
+a narrow two-storied building, the front blackened by time. There was
+a carriage gateway, on the right-hand side of which was the entrance
+to the offices. The stairs leading to the first floor were covered by
+a well-worn carpet. Here was a long corridor into which the different
+offices opened. On their glass doors might be read: “Payments of
+dividends.” “Accounts.” “Foreign correspondence.” “General office.”
+ Cayrol’s own room was quite at the end, and communicated with his
+private apartments. Everything breathed of simplicity and honesty.
+Cayrol had never tried to throw dust into people’s eyes. He had started
+modestly when opening the bank; his business had increased, but his
+habits had remained the same. It was not a difficult matter to obtain
+an interview, even by people not known to him. They sent in their cards,
+and were admitted to his sanctum.
+
+It was amid the coming and going of customers and clerks that Prince
+Panine came the following day to find Cayrol. For the first time Serge
+had put himself out for the banker. He was introduced with marks of the
+most profound respect. The great name of Desvarennes seemed to cast a
+kind of halo round his head in the eyes of the clerks.
+
+Cayrol, a little embarrassed, but still resolute, went toward him.
+Serge seemed nervous and somewhat abrupt in manner. He foresaw some
+difficulty.
+
+“Well! my dear fellow,” he said, without sitting down. “What are you up
+to? I have waited since yesterday for the money you promised me.”
+
+Cayrol scratched his ear, and felt taken aback by this plain speaking.
+
+“The fact is--” stammered he.
+
+“Have you forgotten your engagement?” asked Serge, frowning.
+
+“No,” replied Cayrol, speaking slowly, “but I met Madame Desvarennes
+yesterday.”
+
+“And what had that to do with your intentions?”
+
+“Zounds! It had everything to do with them. Your mother-in-law made a
+scene, and forbade my lending you any money. You must understand, my
+dear Prince, that my relations with Madame Desvarennes are important.
+I hold a great deal of money of hers in my bank. She first gave me a
+start. I cannot, without appearing ungrateful, act contrary to her will.
+Place yourself in my position, and judge impartially of the terrible
+alternative between obliging you and displeasing my benefactress.”
+
+“Don’t cry; it is useless,” said Serge, with a scornful laugh. “I
+sympathize with your troubles. You side with the money-bags. It remains
+to be seen whether you will gain by it.”
+
+“My dear Prince, I swear to you that I am in despair,” cried Cayrol,
+annoyed at the turn the interview was taking. “Listen; be reasonable! I
+don’t know what you have done to your mother-in-law, but she seems much
+vexed with you. In your place I would rather make a few advances than
+remain hostile toward Madame Desvarennes. That would mend matters, you
+see. Flies are not to be caught with vinegar.”
+
+Serge looked contemptuously at Cayrol, and put on his hat with supreme
+insolence.
+
+“Pardon me, my dear fellow; as a banker you are excellent when you have
+any money to spare, but as a moralist you are highly ridiculous.”
+
+And, turning on his heel, he quitted the office, leaving Cayrol quite
+abashed. He passed along the corridor switching his cane with suppressed
+rage. Madame Desvarennes had, with one word, dried up the source from
+which he had been drawing most of the money which he had spent during
+the last three months. He had to pay a large sum that evening at the
+club, and he did not care to apply to the money-lenders of Paris.
+
+He went down the stairs wondering how he would get out of this scrape!
+Go to Madame Desvarennes and humble himself as Cayrol advised? Never!
+He regretted, for a moment, the follies which had led him into this
+difficulty. He ought to have been able to live on two hundred
+thousand francs a year! He had squandered money foolishly, and now the
+inexhaustible well from which he had drawn his treasure was closed by an
+invincible will.
+
+He was crossing the gateway, when a well-known voice struck his ear, and
+he turned round. Herzog, smiling in his enigmatical manner, was before
+him. Serge bowed, and wanted to pass on, but the financier put his hand
+on his arm, saying:
+
+“What a hurry you are in, Prince. I suppose your pocketbook is full of
+notes, and you are afraid of being plundered.”
+
+And with his finger, Herzog touched the silver mounted pocketbook, the
+corner of which was peeping out of the Prince’s pocket. Panine could not
+control a gesture of vexation, which made the financier smile.
+
+“Am I wrong?” asked Herzog. “Can our friend Cayrol have refused your
+request? By-the-bye, did you not quarrel with Madame Desvarennes
+yesterday? Whoever was it told me that? Your mother-in-law spoke of
+cutting off all your credit, and from your downcast look I guess that
+fool Cayrol has obeyed the orders he has received.”
+
+Serge, exasperated and stamping with rage, wanted to speak, but it was
+no easy matter interrupting Herzog. Besides, there was something in the
+latter’s look which annoyed Serge. His glance seemed to be fathoming the
+depths of Panine’s pockets, and the latter instinctively tightened his
+arms across his chest, so that Herzog might not see that his pocketbook
+was empty.
+
+“What are you talking about?” asked Serge, at last, with a constrained
+smile.
+
+“About things which must greatly interest you,” said Herzog, familiarly.
+“Come, be sincere. Cayrol has just refused you a sum of money. He’s a
+simpleton! How much do you want? Will a hundred thousand francs do just
+now?”
+
+And writing a few words on a check, the financier handed it to Serge,
+adding:
+
+“A man of your position should not be in any difficulty for such a
+paltry sum!”
+
+“But, sir,” said Serge, astonished, and pushing away Herzog’s hand.
+
+“Accept it, and don’t feel indebted to me. It is hardly worth while
+between you and me.”
+
+And taking Panine’s arm Herzog walked on with him.
+
+“Your carriage is there? all right, mine will follow. I want to talk to
+you. Your troubles cannot last. I will show you the means of extricating
+yourself and that without delay, my dear sir.”
+
+And without consulting Panine he seated himself beside him in the
+carriage.
+
+“I told you once, if you remember,” continued the financier, “that I
+might prove useful to you. You were haughty, and I did not insist; yet
+you see the day has come. Let me speak frankly with you. It is my usual
+manner, and there is some good in it.”
+
+“Speak,” answered Serge, rather puzzled.
+
+“You find yourself at this moment, vulgarly speaking, left in the lurch.
+Your wants are many and your resources few.”
+
+“At least--” protested Serge.
+
+“Good! There you are refractory,” said the financier, laughingly, “and I
+have not finished. The day after your marriage you formed your
+household on a lavish footing; you gave splendid receptions; you bought
+race-horses; in short, you went the pace like a great lord. Undoubtedly
+it costs a lot of money to keep up such an establishment. As you spent
+without counting the cost, you confounded the capital with the interest,
+so that at this moment you are three parts ruined. I don’t think you
+would care to change your mode of living, and it is too late in the day
+to cut down expenses and exist on what remains? No. Well, to keep up
+your present style you need at least a million francs every year.”
+
+“You calculate like Cocker,” remarked Serge, smiling with some
+constraint.
+
+“That is my business,” answered Herzog. “There are two ways by which
+you can obtain that million. The first is by making it up with your
+mother-in-law, and consenting, for money, to live under her dominion. I
+know her, she will agree to this.”
+
+“But,” said Serge, “I refuse to submit.”
+
+“In that case you must get out of your difficulties alone.”
+
+“And how?” inquired the Prince, with astonishment.
+
+Herzog looked at him seriously.
+
+“By entering on the path which I am ready to open up to you,” replied
+Herzog, “and in which I will guide you. By going in for business.”
+
+Serge returned Herzog’s glance and tried to read his face, but found him
+impenetrable.
+
+“To go into business one needs experience, and I have none.”
+
+“Mine will suffice,” retorted the financier.
+
+“Or money,” continued the Prince, “and I have none, either.”
+
+“I don’t ask money from you. I offer you some.”
+
+“What, then, do I bring into the concern?”
+
+“The prestige of your name, and your relations with Madame Desvarennes.”
+
+The Prince answered, haughtily:
+
+“My relations are personal, and I doubt whether they will serve you. My
+mother-in-law is hostile, and will do nothing for me. As to my name, it
+does not belong to me, it belongs to those who bore it nobly before me.”
+
+“Your relations will serve me,” said Herzog. “I am satisfied. Your
+mother-in-law cannot get out of your being her daughter’s husband, and
+for that you are worth your weight in gold. As to your name, it is
+just because it has been nobly borne that it is valuable. Thank your
+ancestors, therefore, and make the best of the only heritage they left
+you. Besides, if you care to examine things closely, your ancestors will
+not have reason to tremble in their graves. What did they do formerly?
+They imposed taxes on their vassals and extorted money from the
+vanquished. We financiers do the same. Our vanquished are the
+speculators; our vassals the shareholders. And what a superiority
+there is about our proceedings! There is no violence. We persuade; we
+fascinate; and the money flows into our coffers. What do I say? They
+beseech us to take it. We reign without contest. We are princes, too
+princes of finance. We have founded an aristocracy as proud and as
+powerful as the old one. Feudality of nobility no longer exists; it has
+given way to that of money.”
+
+Serge laughed. He saw what Herzog was driving at.
+
+“Your great barons of finance are sometimes subject to executions,” said
+he.
+
+“Were not Chalais, Cinq-Mars, Biron, and Montmorency executed?” asked
+Herzog, with irony.
+
+“That was on a scaffold,” replied Panine.
+
+“Well! the speculator’s scaffold is the Bourse! But only small dabblers
+in money succumb; the great ones are safe from danger. They are
+supported in their undertakings by such powerful and numerous interests
+that they cannot fail without involving public credit; even
+governments are forced to come to their aid. One of these powerful and
+indestructible enterprises I have dreamed of grafting on to the European
+Credit Company, the Universal Credit Company. Its very name is a
+programme in itself. To stretch over the four quarters of the globe like
+an immense net, and draw into its meshes all financial speculators: such
+is its aim. Nobody will be able to withstand us. I am offering you great
+things, but I dream of still greater. I have ideas. You will see them
+developed, and will profit by them, if you join my fortunes. You are
+ambitious, Prince. I guessed it; but your ambition hitherto has been
+satisfied with small things--luxurious indulgences and triumphs of
+elegance! What are these worth to what I can give you? The sphere in
+which you move is narrow. I will make it immense. You will no longer
+reign over a small social circle, you will rule a world.”
+
+Serge, more affected than he cared to show, tried to banter.
+
+“Are you repeating the prologue to Faust?” asked he. “Where is your
+magical compact? Must I sign it?”
+
+“Not at all. Your consent is sufficient. Look into the business, study
+it at your leisure, and measure the results; and then if it suit you,
+you can sign a deed of partnership. Then in a few years you may possess
+a fortune surpassing all that you have dreamed of.”
+
+The financier remained silent. Serge was weighing the question. Herzog
+was happy; he had shown himself to all Paris in company with Madame
+Desvarennes’s son-in-law. He had already realized one of his projects.
+The carriage was just passing down the Champs Elysees. The weather was
+lovely, and in the distance could be seen the trees of the Tuileries and
+the different monuments of the Place de la Concorde bathed in blue mist.
+Groups of horsemen were cantering along the side avenues. Long files of
+carriages were rolling rapidly by with well-dressed ladies. The capital
+displayed at that hour all the splendor of its luxury. It was Paris in
+all its strength and gayety.
+
+Herzog stretched out his hand, and calling the Prince’s attention to the
+sight, said:
+
+“There’s your empire!”
+
+Then, looking at him earnestly, he asked:
+
+“Is it agreed?”
+
+Serge hesitated for a moment, and then bowed his head, saying:
+
+“It is agreed.”
+
+Herzog pulled the check-string communicating with the coachman and
+alighted.
+
+“Good-by,” said he to Panine.
+
+He slipped into his own carriage, which had followed closely behind, and
+drove off.
+
+From that day, even Jeanne had a rival. The fever of speculation had
+seized on Serge; he had placed his little finger within the wheels and
+he must follow--body, name, and soul. The power which this new game
+exercised over him was incredible. It was quite different to the stupid
+games at the club, always the same. On the Bourse, everything was new,
+unexpected, sudden, and formidable. The intensity of the feelings were
+increased a hundredfold, owing to the importance of the sums risked.
+
+It was really a splendid sight to see Herzog manipulating matters,
+maneuvering with a miraculous dexterity millions of francs. And then the
+field for operations was large. Politics, the interests of nations, were
+the mainsprings which impelled the play, and the game assumed diplomatic
+vastness and financial grandeur.
+
+From his private office Herzog issued orders, and whether his ability
+was really extraordinary, or whether fortune exceptionally favored him,
+success was certain. Serge, from the first week, realized considerable
+sums. This brilliant success threw him in a state of great excitement.
+He believed everything that Herzog said to him as if it were gospel. He
+saw the world bending under the yoke which he was about to impose upon
+it. People working and toiling every day were doing so for him alone,
+and like one of those kings who had conquered the world, he pictured all
+the treasures of the earth laid at his feet. From that time he lost
+the sense of right and wrong. He admitted the unlikely, and found the
+impossible quite natural. He was a docile tool in the hands of Herzog.
+
+The rumor of this unforeseen change in Panine’s circumstances soon
+reached Madame Desvarennes’s ears. The mistress was frightened, and sent
+for Cayrol, begging him to remain a director of the European Credit, in
+order to watch the progress of the new affair. With her practical common
+sense, she foresaw disasters, and even regretted that Serge had not
+confined himself to cards and reckless living.
+
+Cayrol was most uneasy, and made a confidant of his wife, who, deeply
+troubled, told Panine the fears his friends entertained on his account.
+The Prince smiled disdainfully, saying these fears were the effect
+of plebeian timidity. The mistress understood nothing of great
+speculations, and Cayrol was a narrow-minded banker! He knew what he was
+doing. The results of his speculations were mathematical. So far they
+had not disappointed his hopes. The great Universal Credit Company, of
+which he was going to be a director, would bring him in such an immense
+fortune that he would be independent of Madame Desvarennes.
+
+Jeanne, terrified at this blind confidence, tried to persuade him. Serge
+took her in his arms, kissed her, and banished her fears.
+
+Madame Desvarennes had forbidden her people to tell Micheline anything
+of what was going on, as she wished her to remain in perfect ignorance.
+By a word, the mistress, if she could not have prevented the follies
+of which Serge was guilty, could, at least, have spared herself and her
+daughter. It would have only been necessary to reveal his behavior and
+betrayal to Micheline, and to provoke a separation. If the house of
+Desvarennes were no longer security for Panine, his credit would fall.
+Disowned by his mother-in-law, and publicly given up by her, he would
+be of no use to Herzog, and would be promptly thrown over by him. The
+mistress did not wish her daughter to know the heartrending truth. She
+would not willingly cause her to shed tears, and therefore preferred
+risking ruin.
+
+Micheline, too, tried to hide her troubles from her mother. She knew
+too well that Serge would have the worst of it if he got into her black
+books. With the incredible persistence of a loving heart, she hoped to
+win back Serge. Thus a terrible misunderstanding caused these two women
+to remain inactive and silent, when, by united efforts, they might,
+perhaps, have prevented dangers.
+
+The great speculation was already being talked about. Herzog was boldly
+placing his foot on the summit whereon the five or six demigods, who
+ruled the stock market, were firmly placed. The audacious encroachments
+of this newcomer had vexed these formidable potentates, and already they
+had decided secretly his downfall because he would not let them share in
+his profits.
+
+One morning, the Parisians, on awakening, found the walls placarded with
+notices advertising the issue of shares in the Universal Credit Company,
+and announcing the names of the directors, among which appeared that
+of the Prince. Some were members of the Legion d’Honneur; others recent
+members of the Cabinet Council, and Prefets retired into private life. A
+list of names to dazzle the public, but all having a weak point.
+
+This created a great sensation in the business world. Madame
+Desvarennes’s son-in-law was on the board. It was a good speculation,
+then? People consulted the mistress, who found herself somewhat in a
+dilemma; either she must disown her son-in-law, or speak well of the
+affair. Still she did not hesitate, for she was loyal and honest above
+all things. She declared the speculation was a poor one, and did all she
+could to prevent any of her friends becoming shareholders.
+
+The issue of shares was disastrous. The great banks remained hostile,
+and capitalists were mistrustful. Herzog landed a few million francs.
+Doorkeepers and cooks brought him their savings. He covered expenses.
+But it was no use advertising and puffing in the newspapers, as a word
+had gone forth which paralyzed the speculation. Ugly rumors were afloat.
+Herzog’s German origin was made use of by the bankers, who whispered
+that the aim of the Universal Credit Company was exclusively political.
+It was to establish branch banks in every part of the world to further
+the interests of German industry. Further, at a given moment, Germany
+might have need of a loan in case of war, and the Universal Credit
+Company would be there to supply the necessary aid to the great military
+nation.
+
+Herzog was not a man to be put down without resisting, and he made
+supreme efforts to float his undertaking. He caused a number of unissued
+shares to be sold on ‘Change, and had them bought up by his own men,
+thus creating a fictitious interest in the company. In a few days the
+shares rose and were at a premium, simply through the jobbery to which
+Herzog lent himself.
+
+Panine was little disposed to seek for explanations, and, besides,
+had such unbounded faith in his partner that he suspected nothing. He
+remained in perfect tranquillity. He had increased his expenditure, and
+his household was on a royal footing. Micheline’s sweetness emboldened
+him; he no longer took the trouble of dissimulating, and treated his
+young wife with perfect indifference.
+
+Jeanne and Serge met every day at the little house in the Avenue
+Maillot. Cayrol was too much engaged with the new anxieties which Herzog
+caused him, to look after his wife, and left her quite free to amuse
+herself. Besides, he had not the least suspicion. Jeanne, like all
+guilty women, overwhelmed him with kind attentions, which the good man
+mistook for proofs of love. The fatal passion was growing daily stronger
+in the young woman’s heart, and she would have found it impossible to
+have given up her dishonorable happiness with Panine. She felt herself
+capable of doing anything to preserve her lover.
+
+Jeanne had already said, “Oh! if we were but free!” And they formed
+projects. They would go away to Lake Lugano, and, in a villa hidden
+by trees and shrubs, would enjoy the pleasures of being indissolubly
+united. The woman was more eager than the man in giving way to these
+visions of happiness. She sometimes said, “What hinders us now? Let
+us go.” But Serge, prudent and discreet, even in the most affectionate
+moments, led Jeanne to take a more sensible view. What was the use of a
+scandal? Did they not belong to each other?
+
+Then the young woman reproached him for not loving her as much as she
+loved him. She was tired of dissimulating; her husband was an object
+of horror to her, and she had to tell him untruths and submit to his
+caresses which were revolting to her. Serge calmed her with a kiss, and
+bade her wait awhile.
+
+Pierre, rendered anxious on hearing that Serge had joined Herzog in
+his dangerous financial speculations, had left his mines and had just
+arrived. The letters which Micheline addressed to the friend of her
+youth, her enforced confidant in trouble, were calm and resigned.
+Full of pride, she had carefully hidden from Pierre the cause of her
+troubles. He was the last person by whom she would like to be pitied,
+and her letters had represented Serge as repentant and full of good
+feeling. Marechal, for similar reasons, had kept his friend in the
+dark. He feared Pierre’s interference, and he wished to spare Madame
+Desvarennes the grief of seeing her adopted son quarreling with her
+son-in-law.
+
+But the placards announcing the establishment of the Universal Credit
+Company made their way into the provinces, and one morning Pierre found
+some stuck on the walls of his establishment. Seeing the name of Panine,
+and not that of Cayrol, Pierre shuddered. The unpleasant ideas which
+he experienced formerly when Herzog was introduced to the Desvarennes
+recurred to his mind. He wrote to the mistress to ask what was going
+on, and not receiving an answer, he started off without hesitation for
+Paris.
+
+He found Madame Desvarennes in a terrible state of excitement. The
+shares had just fallen a hundred and twenty francs. A panic had ensued.
+The affair was considered as absolutely lost, and the shareholders were
+aggravating matters by wanting to sell out at once.
+
+Savinien was just coming away from the mistress’s room. He wanted to see
+the downfall of the Prince, whom he had always hated, looking upon him
+as a usurper of his own rights upon the fortune of the Desvarennes.
+He began lamenting to his aunt, when she turned upon him with unusual
+harshness, and he felt bound as he said, laughing, to leave the
+“funereal mansion.”
+
+Cayrol, as much interested in the affairs of the Prince as if they were
+his own, went backward and forward between the Rue Saint-Dominique and
+the Rue Taitbout, pale and troubled, but without losing his head. He
+had already saved the European Credit Company by separating it six
+weeks before from the Universal Credit Company, notwithstanding Madame
+Desvarennes’s supplications to keep them together, in the hope that the
+one would save the other. But Cayrol, practical, clear, and implacable,
+had refused, for the first time, to obey Madame Desvarennes. He acted
+with the resolution of a captain of a vessel, who throws overboard a
+portion of the cargo to save the ship, the crew, and the rest of the
+merchandise. He did well, and the European Credit was safe. The shares
+had fallen a little, but a favorable reaction was already showing
+itself. The name of Cayrol, and his presence at the head of affairs, had
+reassured the public, and the shareholders gathered round him, passing a
+vote of confidence.
+
+The banker, devoted to his task, next sought to save Panine, who was at
+that very moment robbing him of his honor and happiness in the house of
+the Avenue Maillot.
+
+Pierre, Cayrol, and Madame Desvarennes met in Marechal’s private office.
+Pierre declared that it was imperative to take strong measures and
+to speak to the Prince. It was the duty of the mistress to enlighten
+Panine, who was no doubt Herzog’s dupe.
+
+Madame Desvarennes shook her head sadly. She feared that Serge was not
+a dupe but an accomplice. And what could she tell him? Let him ruin
+himself! He would not believe her. She knew how he received her advice
+and bore her remonstrances.
+
+An explanation between her and Serge was impossible, and her
+interference would only hurry him into the abyss.
+
+“Well, then, I will speak to him,” said Pierre, resolutely.
+
+“No,” said Madame Desvarennes, “not you! Only one here can tell him
+efficaciously what he must hear, and that is Cayrol. Let us above all
+things keep guard over our words and our behavior. On no account must
+Micheline suspect anything.”
+
+Thus, at the most solemn moments, when fortune and honor, perhaps, were
+compromised, the mother thought of her daughter’s welfare and happiness.
+
+Cayrol went up to the Prince’s rooms. He had just come in, and was
+opening his letters, while having a cigarette in the smoking-room. A
+door, covered by curtains, led to a back stair which opened into the
+courtyard. Cayrol had gone up that way, feeling sure that by so doing he
+would not meet Micheline.
+
+On seeing Jeanne’s husband, Serge rose quickly. He feared that Cayrol
+had discovered everything, and instinctively stepped backward. The
+banker’s manner soon undeceived him. He was serious, but not in a rage.
+He had evidently come on business.
+
+“Well, my dear Cayrol,” said the Prince, gayly, “what good fortune has
+brought you here?”
+
+“If it is fortune, it is certainly not good fortune,” answered the
+banker, gravely. “I wish to have some talk with you, and I shall be
+grateful if you will listen patiently.”
+
+“Oh! oh!” said Serge. “How serious you are. You have some heavy payments
+on hand, and want a little help, eh? I will speak to Herzog.”
+
+Cayrol looked at the Prince in amazement. So he did not suspect
+anything? Such carelessness and negligence frightened him. The banker
+resolved to proceed clearly, and without beating about the bush; to do
+away with such blind confidence a thunderbolt was necessary.
+
+“I have not come about my business, but yours,” returned Cayrol. “The
+Universal Credit Company is on the eve of disaster; there is still time
+for you to withdraw safely and soundly from the sinking wreck. I bring
+you the means.”
+
+Serge laughed.
+
+“Thank you, Cayrol; you are very kind, my friend. I know your intentions
+are good, but I don’t believe a word you are saying. You have come
+from Madame Desvarennes. You are both agreed that I shall give up the
+Universal Credit, but I will not yield to any pressure. I know what I am
+doing. Be easy.”
+
+And quietly lighting another cigarette, he gracefully puffed the
+smoke toward the ceiling. Cayrol did not trouble to argue, but took
+a newspaper from his pocket and handed it to Panine, simply saying,
+“Read!”
+
+It was an article in a reliable financial paper prophesying the
+failure of the Universal Credit Company, and basing its statements on
+irrefutable calculations. Serge took the paper and looked over it. He
+turned pale and crushed it in his hand.
+
+“What infamy!” cried he. “I know our adversaries are enraged. Yes, they
+know that our new company is destined to crush them in the future, and
+they are doing all they can to run us aground. Jealousy! Envy! There is
+no other foundation for these rumors, and they are unworthy a serious
+man’s attention.”
+
+“There is neither envy nor jealousy. All is true,” said Cayrol. “You
+will admit that I am your sincere friend? Well, I swear to you that
+the situation is terrible, and you must resign your directorship of the
+Universal Credit without loss of time. There’s not a moment to lose. Sit
+down and write your resignation.”
+
+“Do you think I am a child to be led by the nose like that?” asked the
+Prince, in a passion. “If you are sincere, Cayrol, as I wish to believe,
+I also think you are a fool. You don’t understand! As to drawing out of
+the company, never! I have a lot of money invested in it.”
+
+“Well, lose your money, Madame Desvarennes will pay you back. At least
+you can save your name.”
+
+“Ah, I see you are conniving with her!” exclaimed the Prince, loudly.
+“Don’t tell me another word, I don’t believe you. I shall go straight
+to the office, and I will speak to Herzog. We will take measures to
+prosecute the papers for libel if they dare to publish these untruths.”
+
+Cayrol saw that nothing would convince Panine. He hoped that an
+interview with Herzog would enlighten him. He left the matter to chance,
+as reasoning was of no avail, and went down to the mistress.
+
+Serge drove to the Universal Credit Company. It was the first day in the
+new offices. Herzog had furnished them splendidly, thinking that this
+would give the shareholders a high opinion of the undertaking. How could
+they have any doubts when they saw such splendid furniture and large
+offices? How could they refuse to place their money in the hands of
+speculators that could cover their floors with such soft carpets? The
+porters, with their dark blue and red cloth liveries, and buttons
+with the company’s monogram on them, answered inquiries with haughty
+condescension. Everything foretold success. It was in the air. You could
+hear the cashier shovelling heaps of gold. The people who had placed the
+Universal Credit Company on such a footing were either very powerful or
+very impudent.
+
+Serge walked in, as he would have done at home, with his hat on, amid a
+number of small shareholders, who had come full of anxiety after reading
+the accounts in the newspapers, and who felt full of confidence after
+seeing the splendor of the place. Panine reached Herzog’s office, but
+when about to open the door, loud voices struck his ear. The financier
+was arguing with a director, and Panine listened.
+
+“The speculation is safe and sure,” Herzog was saying. “The shares are
+low, I know, because I have ceased to keep them up. I have given orders
+in London, Vienna, and Berlin, and we are buying up all shares that
+are offered in the market. I shall then run the shares up again, and we
+shall realize an enormous sum. It is most simple.”
+
+“But it is shady,” said the other voice.
+
+“Why? I defend myself as I am attacked. The great banks seek to
+deteriorate my stock. I buy in, and take it out of my adversaries. Is it
+not just and lawful?”
+
+Panine breathed freely and felt reassured. The depreciation was caused
+by Herzog; he had just said so. There was nothing to fear then. It was
+just a trick of Herzog’s, and the company would come out brighter than
+ever.
+
+Serge went in.
+
+“Oh! here’s Prince Panine,” said Herzog. “Ask him what he thinks of the
+matter. I defer to his judgment.”
+
+“I don’t want to know anything,” said Serge. “I have full confidence in
+you, my dear manager, and our business will prosper in your hands, I am
+sure. Besides, I know the manoeuvres of our opponents, and I think every
+financial means justifiable to answer them.”
+
+“Ah! What did I say to you a few minutes ago?” cried Herzog, addressing
+his questioner in a tone of triumph. “Let me act and you will see.
+Besides, I don’t want to keep you against your will,” he added, harshly.
+“You are at liberty to withdraw from us if you like.”
+
+The other protested that what he had said was for the best interests of
+all concerned. He did not dream of leaving the company; on the contrary,
+they might rely on him. He appreciated the experience and ability of
+Herzog too well to separate his fortune from his friend’s. And, shaking
+hands with the financier, he took his leave.
+
+“Come! What is all this clamor in the newspapers?” asked Serge, when
+he found himself alone with Herzog. “Do you know that the articles
+published are very perfidious?”
+
+“All the more perfidious because they are founded on truth,” said the
+financier, coldly.
+
+“What do you mean?” cried Serge, in alarm.
+
+“The truth. Do you think I am to tell you lies as I did to that idiot
+who has just gone out? The Universal Credit has at this moment a screw
+loose. But patience! I have an idea, and in a fortnight the shares will
+have doubled in value. I have a splendid scheme in hand which will kill
+the gas companies. It is a plan for lighting by magnesium. Its effect
+will be startling. I shall publish sensational articles describing the
+invention in the London and Brussels papers. Gas shares will fall very
+low. I shall buy up all I can, and when I am master of the situation,
+I shall announce that the threatened gas companies are buying up the
+invention. Shares will rise again, and I shall realize a goodly sum,
+which will be for the benefit of the Universal Credit.”
+
+“But for such a formidable speculation foreign agents will require
+security?”
+
+“I will offer it to them. I have here ten million francs’ worth of
+shares in the European Credit belonging to Cayrol. We will give the
+cashier a joint receipt for them. The speculation will last three days.
+It is safe, and when the result is achieved we will replace the shares,
+and take back the receipt.”
+
+“But,” asked Serge, “is this plan of taking the shares which don’t
+belong to us legal?”
+
+“It is a transfer,” said Herzog, with simplicity. “Besides, don’t forget
+that we have to do with Cayrol, that is to say with a partner.”
+
+“Suppose we tell him of it,” insisted the Prince.
+
+“No! The deuce! We should have to explain everything to him. He knows
+what’s what, and would find the idea too good, and want a share of the
+spoil. No! Sign that, and don’t be alarmed. The sheep will be back in
+the fold before the shepherd comes to count them.”
+
+A dark presentiment crossed Serge’s mind, and he was afraid. At that
+moment, when his fate was being decided, he hesitated to go deeper into
+the rut where he had already been walking too long. He stood silent and
+undecided. Confused thoughts crowded his brain; his temples throbbed,
+and a buzzing noise sounded in his ears. But the thought of giving
+up his liberty, and again subjecting himself to Madame Desvarennes’s
+protection was like the lash of a whip, and he blushed for having
+hesitated.
+
+Herzog looked at him, and, smiling in a constrained way, said:
+
+“You, too, may give up the affair if you like. If I share it with you it
+is because you are so closely allied to me. I don’t so very much care
+to cut the pear in two. Don’t think that I am begging of you to be my
+partner! Do as you like.”
+
+Serge caught hold of the paper and, having signed it, handed it to the
+financier.
+
+“All right,” said Herzog. “I shall leave to-night and be absent
+three days. Watch the money market. You will see the results of my
+calculations.”
+
+And shaking hands with the Prince, Herzog went to the cashier to get the
+scrip and deposit the receipt.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX. SIN GROWS BOLDER
+
+There was a party at Cayrol’s. In the drawing-rooms of the mansion in
+the Rue Taitbout everything was resplendent with lights, and there
+was quite a profusion of flowers. Cayrol had thought of postponing
+the party, but was afraid of rousing anxieties, and like an actor who,
+though he has just lost his father, must play the following day, so
+Cayrol gave his party and showed a smiling face, so as to prevent harm
+to his business.
+
+Matters had taken a turn for the worse during the last three days. The
+bold stroke, to carry out which Herzog had gone to London so as to be
+more secret, had been got wind of. The fall of the shares had not
+taken place. Working with considerable sums of money, the loss on
+the difference was as great as the gains would have been. The shares
+belonging to the European Credit Company had defrayed the cost of the
+game. It was a disaster. Cayrol, in his anxiety, had applied for the
+scrip and had only found the receipt given to the cashier. Although
+the transaction was most irregular, Cayrol had not said anything; but,
+utterly cast down, had gone to Madame Desvarennes to tell her of the
+fact.
+
+The Prince was in bed, pretending to be ill. His wife, happily ignorant
+of all that was going on, rejoiced secretly at his indisposition because
+she was allowed to nurse him and have him all to herself. Panine,
+alarmed at the check they had experienced, was expecting Herzog with
+feverish impatience, and to keep out of sight had chosen the privacy of
+his own room.
+
+Still, Cayrol had been allowed to see him, and with great circumspection
+told him that his non-appearance at the same time that Herzog was absent
+was most fatal for the Universal Credit Company. It was absolutely
+necessary that he should be seen in public. He must come to his party,
+and appear with a calm face. Serge promised to come, and had imposed
+on Micheline the heavy task of accompanying him to Jeanne’s. It was the
+first time since her return from Nice that she had entered the house of
+her husband’s mistress.
+
+The concert was over, and a crowd of guests were coming from the large
+drawing-room to the boudoir and little drawing-room.
+
+“The symphony is over. Ouf!” said Savinien, yawning.
+
+“You don’t like music?” asked Marechal, with a laugh.
+
+“Yes, military music. But two hours of Schumann and Mendelssohn at high
+pressure is too much for one man. But I say, Marechal, what do you think
+of Mademoiselle Herzog’s being at Cayrol’s soiree. It is a little too
+strong.”
+
+“How so?”
+
+“Why, the father has bolted, and the daughter is preparing a dance. Each
+has a different way of using their feet.”
+
+“Very pretty, Monsieur Desvarennes, but I advise you to keep your
+flashes of wit to yourself,” said Marechal, seriously. “That may not
+suit everybody.”
+
+“Oh, Marechal, you, too, making a fuss!”
+
+And turning on his heel, he went to the refreshment table.
+
+Prince and Princess Panine were just coming in. Micheline was smiling,
+and Serge was pale, though calm. Cayrol and Jeanne came toward them.
+Everybody turned to look at them. Jeanne, without embarrassment, shook
+hands with her friend. Cayrol bowed respectfully to Micheline.
+
+“Princess,” he said, “will you honor me by taking my arm? You are just
+in time, they are going to begin dancing.”
+
+“Not myself, though, thank you,” replied Micheline, with a sad smile, “I
+am still very weak, but I will look on.”
+
+And on Cayrol’s arm she entered the large drawing-room. Serge followed
+with Jeanne.
+
+The festivities were at their height. The orchestra was playing a
+waltz, and in a whirl of silk and gauze the young people seemed to be
+thoroughly enjoying themselves.
+
+Suzanne Herzog was sitting alone near a window, in a simple white dress,
+and without a single ornament. Marechal had just approached her, and she
+had welcomed him with a smile.
+
+“Are you not dancing to-night, Mademoiselle?” he asked.
+
+“I am waiting to be invited,” she answered, sadly, “and, like sister
+Anne, I see nobody coming. There are ugly reports abroad about my
+father’s fortune, and the Argonauts are drawing off.”
+
+“Will you give me a dance?” said Marechal. “I don’t dance to perfection,
+never having practised much, but with a good will.”
+
+“Thank you, Monsieur Marechal, I would rather talk. I am not very
+cheerful to-night, and, believe me, I only came because Madame
+Desvarennes wished it. I would rather have remained at home. Business
+has gone wrong with my father by what I can hear, for I don’t know what
+goes on at the office. I feel more inclined to cry than to laugh. Not
+that I regret the loss of money, you know; I don’t care for it, but my
+father must be in despair.”
+
+Marechal listened silently to Suzanne, not daring to tell her what he
+thought of Herzog, and respected the real ignorance or willing blindness
+of the young girl who did not doubt her father’s loyalty.
+
+The Princess, leaning on Cayrol’s arm, had just finished promenading
+round the rooms, when she perceived Suzanne and, leaving the banker,
+came and seated herself beside her. Many of the guests looked at each
+other and whispered words which Micheline did not hear, and if she
+had heard would not have understood. “It is heroic!” some said. Others
+answered, “It is the height of impudence.”
+
+The Princess was talking with Suzanne and was looking at her husband
+who, leaning against a door, was following Jeanne with his eyes.
+
+At a sign from Cayrol, Marechal left the room. The secretary joined
+Madame Desvarennes, who had come with Pierre and had remained in
+Cayrol’s private office. During this party matters of moment were to
+be discussed, and a consultation was about to take place between the
+interested parties. On seeing Marechal enter, Madame only uttered one
+word:
+
+“Cayrol?”
+
+“Here he is,” answered the secretary.
+
+Cayrol came in, hurriedly.
+
+“Well,” he asked, with great anxiety, “have you any news?”
+
+“Pierre has just come from London,” answered the mistress. “What we
+feared is true. Herzog, conjointly with my son-in-law, has made use of
+the ten millions belonging to the European Credit.”
+
+“Do you think that Herzog has really bolted?” inquired Marechal.
+
+“No! he is too deep for that,” replied Cayrol. “He will return. He knows
+that in compromising the Prince it is as if he had compromised the firm
+of Desvarennes, therefore he is quite easy on the matter.”
+
+“Can the one be saved without the other?” asked the mistress.
+
+“It is impossible. Herzog has so firmly bound up his interests with
+those of the Prince that it will be necessary to extricate both or let
+both perish together.”
+
+“Well, we must save Herzog into the bargain, then!” said Madame
+Desvarennes, coldly. “But by what means?”
+
+“These,” answered Cayrol. “The shares taken away by Herzog, under the
+security of the Prince’s signature, were deposited by the shareholders.
+When the Universal Credit removed to its new offices, these shares were
+taken away by mistake. It will suffice to replace the scrip. I will give
+back the receipt to the Prince and all trace of this deplorable affair
+will be wiped out.”
+
+“But the numbers of the shares will not be the same,” said Madame
+Desvarennes, accustomed to minute regularity in all operations.
+
+“We can explain the change by feigning a sale when they were high, and
+buying them up when low. We will show a profit, and the shareholders
+will not quarrel. Besides, I reserve the right of divulging Herzog’s
+fraud without implicating Panine, if the shareholders insist. Trust me,
+I will catch Herzog another time. It is my stupid confidence in that
+man which has been partly the cause of this disaster. I will make your
+business mine and force him to shell out. I shall leave for London
+to-night, by the 1.50 train. Promptness of action in such a case is the
+first step toward success.”
+
+“Thank you, Cayrol,” said the mistress. “Have my daughter and the Prince
+arrived?”
+
+“Yes, Serge is calm; he has more power over himself than I could have
+believed.”
+
+“What does it matter to him what is going on? Is it he who will feel the
+blow? No. He knows that I shall go on working to keep him in idleness
+and maintain him in luxury. I may think myself lucky if he is reclaimed
+by this hard lesson, and does not again begin to rummage in other
+people’s safes, for then I should be unable to save him.”
+
+The mistress rose and, with flashing eyes, walked up and down the room.
+
+“Oh, the wretch!” she said. “If ever my daughter ceases to come between
+him and me!”
+
+A terrible gesture finished the sentence.
+
+Cayrol, Marechal, and Pierre looked at each other. The same thought
+came to their minds, dark and fearful. In a paroxysm of rage this fond
+mother, this energetic and passionate woman, would be capable of killing
+any one.
+
+“You remember what I told you one day,” murmured Marechal, approaching
+Cayrol.
+
+“I would prefer the hatred of ten men to that of such a woman,” answered
+Cayrol.
+
+“Cayrol!” continued Madame Desvarennes, after a few moments of
+meditation, “the conduct of the business of which you spoke to us a
+little while ago depends solely on you, does it not?”
+
+“On me alone.”
+
+“Do it at once, then, cost me what it may. Has it been noised abroad?”
+
+“No one has the slightest suspicion. I have not mentioned it to a living
+soul,” said the banker--“except to my wife,” added he with a frankness
+which drew a smile from Pierre. “But my wife and I are one.”
+
+“What did she say?” asked Madame Desvarenes, looking straight at Cayrol.
+
+“If I had been the person concerned,” he said, “she could not possibly
+have been more affected. She loves you so much, Madame, you and those
+belonging to you. She besought me to do all in my power to get the
+Prince out of this scrape. She had tears in her eyes: And, truly, if
+I did not feel bound to serve you from gratitude I would do it for her
+sake and to give her pleasure. I was touched, I can assure you. Really,
+she has a heart!”
+
+Marechal exchanged a look with Madame Desvarennes, who advanced toward
+the banker, and shook him by the hand, saying:
+
+“Cayrol, you are truly a good man!”
+
+“I know it,” said Cayrol, smiling to hide his emotion, “and you may rely
+upon me.”
+
+Micheline appeared on the threshold of the room. Through the half-open
+door the dancers could be seen passing to and fro, and the sound of
+music floated in the air.
+
+“What has become of you, mamma? I hear that you have been here for more
+than an hour.”
+
+“I was talking on business matters with these gentlemen,” answered
+Madame Desvarennes, smoothing from her brow the traces of her cares by
+an effort of will. “But you, dear, how do you feel? Are you not tired?”
+
+“Not more so than usual,” replied Micheline, looking round to follow the
+movements of her husband, who was trying to reach Jeanne.
+
+“Why did you come to this party? It was unwise.”
+
+“Serge wished me to come, and I did not care to let him come without
+me.”
+
+“Eh! dear me!” exclaimed Madame Desvarennes. “Let him do what he likes.
+Men are savages. When you are ill it won’t hurt him.”
+
+“I am not ill, and I won’t be,” resumed Micheline, warmly. “We are going
+away now.”
+
+She motioned to Serge with her fan. Panine came to her.
+
+“You will take me home, won’t you, Serge?”
+
+“Certainly, dear one,” answered Serge.
+
+Jeanne, who was listening at a distance, raised her hand to her forehead
+as a sign that she wanted him. A feeling of surprise came over the
+Prince, and he did not understand what she meant. Micheline had seen the
+sign. A deadly pallor spread over her features, and a cold perspiration
+broke out on her forehead. She felt so ill that she could have cried
+out. It was the first time she had seen Serge and Jeanne together
+since the dreadful discovery at Nice. She had avoided witnessing
+their meeting, feeling uncertain of herself, and fearing to lose her
+self-control. But seeing the two lovers before her, devouring each other
+with their looks, and making signs to each other, made her feel most
+terribly jealous and angry.
+
+Serge had decided to obey the imperious signs which Jeanne made to him,
+and turning toward his wife, said:
+
+“I remember now, my dear, that before going home I must call at the
+club. I promised, and cannot put it off. Excuse my not going with you,
+and ask your mother to accompany you.”
+
+“Very well,” said Micheline, in a trembling voice. “I will ask her. You
+are not going just yet?”
+
+“In a moment.”
+
+“I, too, shall leave in a moment.”
+
+The young wife did not want to lose one detail of the horrible comedy
+being played under her very eyes. She remained to learn, unawares, the
+reason for which Jeanne kept her husband.
+
+Not thinking that he was watched, Serge had gone across to Jeanne, and
+affecting a smile, inquired:
+
+“What is the matter?”
+
+“Serious news.” And she explained that she must speak to her lover that
+evening.
+
+“Where?” Serge asked, with astonishment.
+
+“Here,” answered Jeanne.
+
+“But your husband?” the Prince said.
+
+“Is leaving in an hour. Our guests will not remain late. Go to the
+garden, and wait in the pavilion. The door of the back stairs leading to
+my dressing-room will be open. When everybody has gone, come up.”
+
+“Take care; we are observed,” said Serge, uneasily.
+
+And they began to laugh with affectation and talked aloud about
+frivolous things, as if nothing serious were occupying their thoughts.
+Cayrol had come back again. He went up to Madame Desvarennes, who was
+talking with her daughter, and, full of business, thoughtlessly said:
+
+“I will telegraph you as soon as I reach London.”
+
+“Are you going away?” inquired Micheline, a light dawning on her mind.
+
+“Yes,” said Cayrol; “I have an important matter to settle.”
+
+“And when do you start?” continued Micheline, in such a changed voice
+that her mother was frightened.
+
+“In a moment,” answered the banker. “Allow me to leave you. I have
+several orders to give.”
+
+And leaving the boudoir, he regained the little drawing-room.
+
+Micheline, with clinched hands and fixed gaze, was saying to herself:
+
+“She will be alone to-night, and has asked him to come to her. He told
+me an untruth about his having to go to the club. He is going to see
+her!”
+
+And passing her hand across her brow, as if to drive away an unpleasant
+thought, the young wife remained silent, dismayed and crushed.
+
+“Micheline, what is the matter with you?” asked Madame Desvarennes,
+seizing her daughter’s hand, which was icy cold.
+
+“Nothing,” stammered Micheline.
+
+“You are ill, I see. Come, let us go home. Come and kiss Jeanne--”
+
+“I!” cried Micheline, with horror, instinctively recoiling as if
+dreading some impure contact.
+
+Madame Desvarennes became suddenly cold and calm. She foresaw a terrible
+revelation, and observing her daughter narrowly, said:
+
+“Why do you cry out when I speak of your kissing Jeanne? Whatever is the
+matter?”
+
+Micheline grasped her mother’s arm, and pointed to Serge and Jeanne, who
+were in the little drawing-room, laughing and talking, surrounded by a
+group of people, yet alone.
+
+“Look at them!” she cried.
+
+“What do you mean?” exclaimed the mother in agony. She read the truth in
+her daughter’s eyes.
+
+“You know--” she began.
+
+“That he is her lover,” cried Micheline, interrupting her. “Don’t you
+see that I am dying through it?” she added, sobbing bitterly and falling
+into her mother’s arms.
+
+The mistress carried her as if she had been a child into Cayrol’s
+private office, and shut the door. Then, kneeling beside the couch on
+which Micheline was stretched, she gave vent to her grief. She begged
+her daughter to speak to her, and warmed her hands with kisses; then,
+seeing her still cold and motionless, she was frightened, and wanted to
+call for help.
+
+“No; be quiet!” murmured Micheline, recovering. “Let no one know. I
+ought to have held my peace; but I have suffered so much I could not
+help myself.
+
+“My life is blasted, you see. Take me away; save me from this infamy!
+Jeanne, my sister, and Serge. Oh! make me forget it! For pity’s sake,
+mamma, you who are so strong, you who have always done what you wished,
+take from my heart all the pain that is there!”
+
+Madame Desvarennes, overcome by such a load of grief, lost command of
+herself, and, quite brokenhearted, began to cry and moan.
+
+“O God! Micheline, my poor child! you were suffering so and did not tell
+me. Oh! I knew you no longer trusted your old mother. And I stupidly did
+not guess it! I said to myself, at least she knows nothing about it, and
+sacrificed everything to keep the knowledge of their wrong-doing from
+you. Don’t cry any more, darling, you will break my heart. I, who would
+have given up everything in the world to see you happy! Oh, I have loved
+you too much! How I am punished!”
+
+“It is I who am punished,” said Micheline, sobbing, “for not obeying
+you. Ah! children ought always to heed their mother. She divines the
+danger. Is it not too horrible, mamma? I, who have sacrificed everything
+for him, to think that he does not love me, and never will love me!
+What will my life be without confidence, hope, or affection? I am too
+unhappy. It would be better to die!”
+
+“Die! you!” cried her mother, whose eyes, wet with tears, dried in a
+moment, as if by an inward fire. “Die! Come, don’t talk such nonsense!
+Because a man treats you with scorn and betrays you? Are men worth dying
+for? No, you shall live, my darling, with your old mother. You shall
+have a deed of separation from your husband.”
+
+“And he will be free,” exclaimed Micheline, angrily. “He will go on
+loving her! Oh! I cannot bear that thought. Do you know, what I am going
+to tell you seems awful. I love him so much, that I would rather see him
+dead than unfaithful.”
+
+Madame Desvarennes was struck, and remained silent. Serge dead! That
+idea had already occurred to her as a dream of deliverance. It came
+upon her peremptorily, violently, irresistibly. She repelled it with an
+effort.
+
+“I can never think of him but as vile and odious,” continued Micheline.
+“Every day his sin will seem more dastardly and his hypocrisy more base.
+There, a little while ago, he was smiling; and do you know why? Because
+Cayrol is going away, and during his absence Serge will return here
+tonight.”
+
+“Who told you?”
+
+“I read it in his joyful looks. I love him. He cannot hide anything from
+me. A traitor to me, and a traitor toward his friend, that is the man
+whom--I am ashamed to own it--I love!”
+
+“Compose yourself! Someone is coming,” said Madame Desvarennes, and at
+the same time the door opened and Jeanne appeared, followed by Marechal,
+who was anxious at their disappearance.
+
+“Is Micheline ill?” inquired Madame Cayrol, coming forward.
+
+“No; it is nothing. Just a little fatigue,” said Madame Desvarennes.
+“Marechal, give my daughter your arm, and take her to her carriage. I
+shall be down in a minute.”
+
+And holding Jeanne by the hand to prevent her following Micheline, she
+added:
+
+“Stay; I have something to say to you.”
+
+Jeanne looked surprised. Madame Desvarennes was silent for a moment. She
+was thinking about Serge coming there that night. She had only to say
+one word to Cayrol to prevent his going away. The life of this wretch
+was entirely in her hands then! But Jeanne! Was she going to ruin her?
+Had she the right thus to destroy one who had struggled and had defended
+herself? Would it be just? Jeanne had been led on against her will. She
+must question her. If the poor girl were suffering, if she repented, she
+must spare her.
+
+Madame Desvarennes, having thus made up her mind, turned toward Jeanne
+who was waiting.
+
+“It is a long time since I have seen you, my dear, and I find you happy
+and smiling. It is the first time since your marriage that you have
+seemed so happy.”
+
+Jeanne looked at the mistress without answering. In these words she
+detected irony.
+
+“You have found peace,” continued Madame Desvarennes, looking
+steadfastly at Jeanne with her piercing eyes. “You see, my dear, when
+you have a clear conscience--for you have nothing to reproach yourself
+with?”
+
+Jeanne saw in this sentence a question and not an affirmation. She
+answered, boldly:
+
+“Nothing!”
+
+“You know that I love you, and would be most lenient,” continued Madame
+Desvarennes, sweetly, “and that you might safely confide in me!”
+
+“I have nothing to fear, having nothing to tell,” said Jeanne.
+
+“Nothing?” repeated the mistress, with emphasis.
+
+“Nothing,” affirmed Jeanne.
+
+Madame Desvarennes once more looked at her adopted daughter as if she
+would read her very soul. She found her quite calm.
+
+“Very well, then!” said she, hastily walking toward the door.
+
+“Are you going already?” asked Jeanne, offering her brow to Madame
+Desvarennes’s lips.
+
+“Yes, good-by!” said the latter, with an icy kiss.
+
+Jeanne, without again turning round, went into the drawing-room. At the
+same moment, Cayrol, in a travelling-coat, entered the office, followed
+by Pierre.
+
+“Here I am, quite ready,” said the banker to Madame Desvarennes. “Have
+you any new suggestion to make to me, or anything else to say?”
+
+“Yes,” replied Madame Desvarennes, in a stern voice which made Cayrol
+start.
+
+“Then make haste. I have only a moment to spare, and you know the train
+waits for no one.”
+
+“You will not go!”
+
+Cayrol, in amazement, answered:
+
+“Do you mean it? Your interests are at stake yonder.”
+
+“Your honor is in danger here,” cried the mistress, vehemently.
+
+“My honor!” repeated Cayrol, starting back. “Madame, do you know what
+you are saying?”
+
+“Ay!” answered Madame Desvarennes. “And do you remember what I promised
+you? I undertook to warn you, myself, if ever the day came when you
+would be threatened.”
+
+“Well?” questioned Cayrol, turning quite livid.
+
+“Well! I keep my promise. If you wish to know who your rival is, come
+home to-night.”
+
+Some inaudible words rattled in Cayrol’s throat.
+
+“A rival! in my house! Can Jeanne be guilty? Do you know, if it is true
+I will kill them both!”
+
+“Deal with them as your conscience dictates,” said Madame Desvarennes.
+“I have acted according to mine.”
+
+Pierre, hitherto dumb with horror at the scene of which he had been a
+witness, shook off his stupor, and going up to Madame Desvarennes, said:
+
+“Madame, do you know that what you have just done is frightful!”
+
+“How? That man will be acting within his rights the same as I am. They
+are seeking to take away his wife, and they are killing my daughter, and
+dishonoring me! We are defending ourselves! Woe to those who are guilty
+of the crime!”
+
+Cayrol had fallen, as if thunderstruck, on a chair, with haggard
+eyes; his voice was gone, and he looked the image of despair. Madame
+Desvarennes’s words came back to him like the refrain of a hated song.
+To himself he kept repeating, without being able to chase away the one
+haunting thought: “Her lover, to-night, at your house!” He felt as if
+he were going mad. He was afraid he should not have time to wreak his
+vengeance. He made a terrible effort, and, moaning with grief, he arose.
+
+“Take care!” said Pierre. “Here’s your wife.”
+
+Cayrol eyed Jeanne, who was approaching. Burning tears came to his eyes.
+He murmured:
+
+“She, with a look so pure, and a face so calm! Is it possible?”
+
+He nodded a farewell to Pierre and Madame Desvarennes, who were leaving,
+and recovering himself, advanced to meet Jeanne.
+
+“Are you off?” she inquired. “You know you have no time to lose!”
+
+Cayrol shuddered. She seemed anxious to get rid of him.
+
+“I have still a few minutes to spend with you,” he said, with emotion.
+“You see, Jeanne, I am sad at going away alone. It is the first time I
+have left you. In a moment our guests will be gone--I beg of you, come
+with me!”
+
+Jeanne smiled. “But you see, dear, I am in evening dress.”
+
+“The night of our marriage I brought you away from Cernay like
+that. Wrap yourself up in your furs, and come! Give me this proof of
+affection. I deserve it. I am not a bad man--and I love you so!”
+
+Jeanne frowned. This pressing vexed her.
+
+“This is childish,” she said. “You will return the day after tomorrow,
+and I am tired. Have some pity for me.”
+
+“You refuse?” asked Cayrol, becoming gloomy and serious.
+
+Jeanne touched his face slightly with her white hand.
+
+“Come! Don’t leave me in a temper! You won’t miss me much, you will
+sleep all the way. Good-by!”
+
+Cayrol kissed her; in a choking voice, he said:
+
+“Good-by!”
+
+And he left her.
+
+Jeanne’s face brightened, as she stood listening for a moment and heard
+the carriage which contained her husband rolling away. Uttering a sigh
+of relief, she murmured:
+
+“At last!”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX. THE CRISIS
+
+Jeanne had just taken off her ball-dress to put on a dressing-gown of
+Oriental cloth richly embroidered with silk flowers. Leaning her elbows
+on the mantelpiece, and breathing heavily, she was waiting. Her maid
+came in, bringing a second lamp. The additional light displayed the rich
+warm hangings of ruby plush embroidered in dull gold. The bed seemed one
+mass of lace.
+
+“Has everybody gone?” asked Jeanne, pretending to yawn.
+
+“Messieurs Le Brede and Du Tremblay, the last guests, are just putting
+on their overcoats,” answered the maid. “But Monsieur Pierre Delarue
+has come back, and is asking whether Madame will speak with him for a
+moment.”
+
+“Monsieur Delarue?” repeated Jeanne, with astonishment.
+
+“He says he has something important to say to Madame.”
+
+“Where is he?” asked Jeanne.
+
+“There, in the gallery. The lights were being put out in the
+drawing-room.”
+
+“Well, show him in.”
+
+The maid went out. Jeanne, much puzzled, asked herself, what could have
+brought Pierre back? It must certainly be something very important. She
+had always felt somewhat awed in Pierre’s presence. At that moment the
+idea of being face to face with the young man was most distressing to
+her.
+
+A curtain was lifted and Pierre appeared. He remained silent and
+confused at the entrance of the room, his courage had deserted him.
+
+“Well,” said Jeanne, with assumed stiffness, “whatever is the matter, my
+friend?”
+
+“The matter is, my dear Jeanne,” began Pierre, “that--”
+
+But the explanation did not seem so very easy to give, for he stopped
+and could not go on.
+
+“That?” repeated Madame Cayrol.
+
+“I beg your pardon,” resumed Pierre. “I am greatly embarrassed. In
+coming here I obeyed a sudden impulse. I did not think of the manner in
+which I should tell you what I have to say, and I see that I shall have
+to run a great risk of offending you.”
+
+Jeanne assumed a haughty air.
+
+“Well, but, my dear friend, if what you have to say is so difficult,
+don’t say it.”
+
+“Impossible!” retorted Pierre. “My silence would cause irreparable
+mischief. In mercy, Jeanne, make my task easier! Meet me half way! You
+have projects for to-night which are known. Danger threatens you. Take
+care!”
+
+Jeanne shuddered. But controlling herself, she answered, laughing
+nervously:
+
+“What rubbish are you talking about? I am at home, surrounded by my
+servants, and I have nothing to fear. I beg of you to believe me.”
+
+“You deny it!” exclaimed Pierre. “I expected as much. But you are only
+taking useless trouble. Come, Jeanne, I am the friend of your childhood;
+you have no reason to fear aught from me. I am only trying to be of
+use to you. You must know that, by my coming here, I know all. Jeanne,
+listen to me!”
+
+“Are you mad?” interrupted the young woman, proudly, “or are you taking
+part in some absurd joke?”
+
+“I am in my right mind, unfortunately for you!” said Pierre, roughly,
+seeing that Jeanne refused to believe him. “And there is no joke in the
+matter. Everything is true, serious and terrible! Since you compel me to
+say things which may be unpalatable, they must out. Prince Panine is in
+your house, or he soon will be. Your husband, whom you think far away,
+is within call, perhaps, and will come and take you unawares. Is not
+that a serious matter?”
+
+A frown overspread her face, and in an ungovernable rage she stepped
+forward, determined not to give in, and exclaimed:
+
+“Go away! or I shall call for assistance!”
+
+“Don’t call, it would look bad!” resumed Pierre, calmly. “On the
+contrary, let the servants get out of the way, and get the Prince to go
+if he be here, or if he has not yet arrived, prevent his coming in. So
+long as I remain here you will dissimulate your fear and will not take
+any precautions. I will leave you, then. Adieu, Jeanne! Believe that I
+wished to render you a service, and be sure that when I have crossed the
+threshold of this door I shall have forgotten everything that I may have
+said.”
+
+Pierre bowed, and, lifting the heavy curtain which hid the door leading
+to the gallery, went out.
+
+He had hardly gone when the opposite door opened, and Serge entered the
+room. The young woman rushed into his arms and whispered into his ear,
+with trembling lips:
+
+“Serge, we are lost!”
+
+“I was there,” answered Panine. “I heard all.”
+
+“What shall we do?” cried Jeanne, terrified.
+
+“Go away at once. To remain here a moment longer is an imprudence.”
+
+“And I, if I remain, what shall I say to Cayrol when he comes?”
+
+“Your husband!” said Serge, bitterly. “He loves you, he will forgive
+you.”
+
+“I know; but then we two shall be separated for ever. Is that what you
+desire?”
+
+“And what can I do?” cried Serge, in despair. “Everything around me is
+giving way! Fortune, which has been my one aim in life, is escaping
+from me. The family which I have scorned is forsaking me. The friendship
+which I have betrayed overwhelms me. There is nothing left to me.”
+
+“And my love, my devotion?” exclaimed Jeanne, passionately. “Do you
+think that I will leave you? We must go away. I asked you long ago. You
+resisted; the moment has now come. Be easy! Madame Desvarennes will pay
+and save your name. In exchange you will give her back her daughter. You
+don’t care about her, because you love me. I am your real wife; she who
+ought to share your life. Well, I take back my rights. I pay for them
+with my honor. I break all ties which could hold me back. I am yours,
+Serge! Our sin and misfortune will bind us more closely than any laws
+could.”
+
+“Think, that with me you will have to endure poverty, and, perhaps,
+misery,” said the Prince, moved by the young woman’s infatuation.
+
+“My love will make you forget everything!”
+
+“You will not feel regret or remorse?”
+
+“Never, so long as you love me.”
+
+“Come, then,” said the Prince, taking Jeanne in his arms. “And if life
+is too hard--”
+
+“Well,” added Jeanne, finishing the sentence with sparkling eyes, “we
+will seek refuge together in death! Come!”
+
+Serge bolted the door, through which Pierre had passed, and which alone
+communicated with the other apartments. Then, taking his mistress by the
+hand, he went with her into the dressing-room. Jeanne threw a dark cloak
+round her shoulders, put a hat on her head, and without taking either
+money, jewels, lace, or, in fact, anything that she had received from
+Cayrol, they went down the little back stairs.
+
+It was very dark. Jeanne did not take a light, as she did not care to
+attract attention, so they had to feel every step of the way as quietly
+as possible, striving not to make the least noise, holding their breath,
+and with beating hearts. When they reached the bottom of the stairs,
+Jeanne stretched out her hand, and sought the handle of the door which
+opened into the courtyard. She turned it, but the door would not open.
+She pushed, but it did not give way. Jeanne uttered a low groan. Serge
+shook it vigorously, but it would not open.
+
+“It has been fastened on the outside,” he whispered.
+
+“Fastened?” murmured Jeanne, seized with fear. “Fastened, and by whom?”
+
+Serge did not answer. The idea that Cayrol had done it came to his mind
+at once. The husband lying in wait, had seen him enter, and to prevent
+his escaping from his vengeance had cut off all means of retreating.
+
+Silently, they went upstairs again, into the room through the
+dressing-room. Jeanne took off her bonnet and cloak, and sank into an
+armchair.
+
+“I must get away!” said Serge, with suppressed rage; and he walked
+toward the door of the gallery.
+
+“No! don’t open that,” cried Jeanne, excitedly.
+
+And with a frightened look, she added:
+
+“What if he were behind the door?”
+
+At the same moment, as if Jeanne’s voice had indeed evoked Cayrol, a
+heavy step was heard approaching along the gallery, a hand tried to open
+the bolted door. Serge and Jeanne remained motionless, waiting.
+
+“Jeanne!” called the voice of Cayrol from the outside, sounding
+mournfully in the silence, “Jeanne, open!”
+
+And with his fist he knocked imperatively on the woodwork.
+
+“I know you are there! Open, I say!” he cried, with increasing rage. “If
+you don’t open the door, I’ll--”
+
+“Go! I beseech you!” whispered Jeanne, in Panine’s ear. “Go downstairs
+again, and break open the door. You won’t find any one there now.”
+
+“Perhaps he has stationed some one there,” answered Serge. “Besides, I
+won’t leave you here alone exposed to his violence.”
+
+“You are not alone. I can hear you talking!” said Cayrol, beside
+himself. “I shall break open this door!”
+
+The husband made a tremendous effort. Under the pressure of his heavy
+weight the lock gave way. With a bound he was in the middle of the room.
+Jeanne threw herself before him; she no longer trembled. Cayrol took
+another step and fixed his glaring eyes on the man whom he sought,
+uttering a fearful oath.
+
+“Serge!” cried he. “I might have guessed it. It is not only money of
+which you are robbing me, you villain!”
+
+Panine turned horribly pale, and advanced toward Cayrol, despite Jeanne,
+who was clinging to him.
+
+“Don’t insult me; it is superfluous,” said he. “My life belongs to you;
+you can take it. I shall be at your service whenever you please.”
+
+Cayrol burst into a fearful laugh.
+
+“Ah! a duel! Come! Am I a gentleman? I am a plebeian! a rustic! a
+cowherd! you know that! I have you now! I am going to smash you!”
+
+He looked round the room as if seeking a weapon, and caught sight of
+the heavy fire-dogs. He caught up one with a cry of triumph, and,
+brandishing it like a club, rushed at Serge.
+
+More rapid than he, Jeanne threw herself before her lover. She stretched
+out her arms, and with a sharp voice, and the look of a she-wolf
+defending her cubs,
+
+“Keep behind me,” said she to Serge; “he loves me and will not dare to
+strike!”
+
+Cayrol had stopped. At these words he uttered a loud cry: “wretched
+woman! You first, then!”
+
+Raising his weapon, he was about to strike, when his eyes met Jeanne’s.
+The young woman was smiling, happy to die for her lover. Her pale face
+beamed from out her black hair with weird beauty. Cayrol trembled. That
+look which he had loved, would he never see it again? That rosy mouth,
+whose smile he cherished, would it be hushed in death? A thousand
+thoughts of happy days came to his mind. His arm fell. A bitter flood
+rushed from his heart to his eyes; the iron dropped heavily from his
+hand on to the floor, and the poor man, overcome, sobbing, and ashamed
+of his weakness, fell senseless on a couch.
+
+Jeanne did not utter a word. By a sign she showed Serge the door,
+which was open, and with a swollen heart she leaned on the mantelpiece,
+waiting for the unfortunate man, from whom she had received such a deep
+and sad proof of love, to come back to life.
+
+Serge had disappeared.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI. “WHEN ROGUES FALL OUT”
+
+The night seemed long to Madame Desvarennes. Agitated and feverish,
+she listened through the silence, expecting every moment to hear some
+fearful news. In fancy she saw Cayrol entering his wife’s room like a
+madman, unawares. She seemed to hear a cry of rage, answered by a sigh
+of terror; then a double shot resounded, the room filled with smoke,
+and, struck down in their guilty love, Serge and Jeanne rolled in death,
+interlaced in each other’s arms, like Paolo and Francesca de Rimini,
+those sad lovers of whom Dante tells us.
+
+Hour after hour passed; not a sound disturbed the mansion. The Prince
+had not come in. Madame Desvarennes, unable to lie in bed, arose, and
+now and again, to pass the time, stole on tiptoe to her daughter’s room.
+Micheline, thoroughly exhausted with fatigue and emotion, had fallen
+asleep on her pillow, which was wet with tears.
+
+Bending over her, by the light of the lamp, the mistress gazed at
+Micheline’s pale face, and a sigh rose to her lips.
+
+“She is still young,” she thought; “she may begin life afresh. The
+remembrance of these sad days will be wiped out, and I shall see her
+revive and smile again. That wretch was nearly the death of her.”
+
+And the image of Serge and Jeanne stretched beside each other in the
+room full of smoke came before her eyes again. She shook her head to
+chase the importunate vision away, and noiselessly regained her own
+apartment.
+
+The day dawned pale and bleak. Madame Desvarennes opened her window and
+cooled her burning brow in the fresh morning air. The birds were awake,
+and were singing on the trees in the garden.
+
+Little by little, the distant sound of wheels rolling by was heard. The
+city was awakening from its sleep.
+
+Madame Desvarennes rang and asked for Marechal. The secretary appeared
+instantly. He, too, had shared the anxieties and fears of the mistress,
+and had risen early. Madame Desvarennes greeted him with a grateful
+smile. She felt that she was really loved by this good fellow, who
+understood her so thoroughly. She begged him to go to Cayrol’s, and gain
+some information, without giving him further details, and she waited,
+walking up and down the room to calm the fever of her mind.
+
+On leaving the house in the Rue Taitbout, Serge felt bewildered, not
+daring to go home, and unable to decide on any plan; yet feeling that
+it was necessary to fix on something without delay, he reached the club.
+The walk did him good, and restored his physical equilibrium. He was
+thankful to be alive after such a narrow escape. He went upstairs with
+a comparatively light step, and tossed his overcoat to a very sleepy
+footman who had risen to receive him. He went into the card-room.
+Baccarat was just finishing. It was three o’clock in the morning. The
+appearance of the Prince lent the game a little fresh animation. Serge
+plunged into it as if it were a battle. Luck was on his side. In a
+short time he cleared the bank: a thousand louis. One by one the players
+retired. Panine, left alone, threw himself on a couch and slept for a
+few hours, but it was not a refreshing sleep. On the contrary, it made
+him feel more tired.
+
+The day servants disturbed him when they came in to sweep the rooms and
+open the windows. He went into the lavatory, and there bathed his face.
+When his ablutions were over he wrote a note to Jeanne, saying that
+he had reflected, and could not possibly let her go away with him. He
+implored her to do all in her power to forget him. He gave this letter
+to one of the messengers, and told him to give it into the hands of
+Madame Cayrol’s maid, and to none other.
+
+The care of a woman and the worry of another household seemed unbearable
+to him. Besides, what could he do with Jeanne? The presence of his
+mistress would prevent his being able to go back to Micheline. And now
+he felt that his only hope of safety was in Micheline’s love for him.
+
+But first of all he must go and see if Herzog had returned, and
+ascertain the real facts of the position in regard to the Universal
+Credit Company.
+
+Herzog occupied a little house on the Boulevard Haussmann, which he had
+hired furnished from some Americans. The loud luxury of the Yankees had
+not frightened him. On the contrary, he held that the gay colors of the
+furniture and the glitter of the gilded cornices were bound to have a
+fascination for prospective shareholders. Suzanne had reserved a little
+corner for herself, modestly hung with muslin and furnished with simple
+taste, which was a great contrast to the loud appearance of the other
+part of the house.
+
+On arriving, Serge found a stableman washing a victoria. Herzog
+had returned. The Prince quietly went up the steps, and had himself
+announced.
+
+The financier was sitting in his study by the window, looking through
+the newspapers. When Serge entered he rose. The two men stood facing
+each other for a moment. The Prince was the first to speak.
+
+“How is it that you have kept me without news during your absence?”
+ asked he, harshly.
+
+“Because,” replied Herzog, calmly, “the only news I had was not good
+news.”
+
+“At least I should have known it.”
+
+“Would the result of the operation have been different?”
+
+“You have led me like a child in this affair,” Serge continued, becoming
+animated. “I did not know where I was going. You made me promises, how
+have you kept them?”
+
+“As I was able,” quietly answered Herzog. “Play has its chances. One
+seeks Austerlitz and finds Waterloo.”
+
+“But,” cried the Prince, angrily, “the shares which you sold ought not
+to have gone out of your hands.”
+
+“You believed that?” retorted the financier, ironically. “If they ought
+not to have gone out of my hands it was hardly worth while putting them
+into them.”
+
+“In short,” said Panine, eager to find some responsible party on whom
+he could pour out all the bitterness of his misfortune, “you took a mean
+advantage of me.”
+
+“Good! I expected you to say that!” returned Herzog, smiling. “If the
+business had succeeded, you would have accepted your share of the spoil
+without any scruples, and would have felt ready to crown me. It has
+failed; you are trying to get out of the responsibility, and are on the
+point of treating me as if I were a swindler. Still, the affair would
+not have been more honest in the first instance than in the second, but
+success embellishes everything.”
+
+Serge looked hard at Herzog.
+
+“What is there to prove,” replied he, “that this speculation, which
+brings ruin and loss to me, does not enrich you?”
+
+“Ungrateful fellow!” observed the financier, ironically, “you suspect
+me!”
+
+“Of having robbed me!” cried Serge, in a rage. “Why not?”
+
+Herzog, for a moment, lost his temper and turned red in the face. He
+seized Panine violently by the arm, and said:
+
+“Gently, Prince; whatever insults you heap upon me must be shared by
+you. You are my partner.”
+
+“Scoundrel!” yelled Panine, exasperated at being held by Herzog.
+
+“Personalities,” said the financier, in a jesting tone. “Then I take my
+leave!”
+
+And loosing his hold of the Prince, he went toward the door.
+
+Serge sprang after him, exclaiming:
+
+“You shall not leave this room until you have given me the means of
+rectifying this disaster.”
+
+“Then let us talk sensibly, as boon companions,” said Herzog. “I know
+of a marvellous move by which we can get out of the difficulty. Let
+us boldly call a general meeting. I will explain the thing, and amaze
+everybody. We shall get a vote of confidence for the past, with funds
+for the future. We shall be as white as snow, and the game is played.
+Are you in with me?”
+
+“Enough,” replied the Prince, intensely disgusted. “It does not suit me
+to do a yet more shameful thing in order to get out of this trouble. It
+is no use arguing further; we are lost.”
+
+“Only the weak allow themselves to be lost!” exclaimed the financier.
+“The strong defend themselves. You may give in if you like; I won’t.
+Three times have I been ruined and three times have I risen again. My
+head is good! I am down now. I shall rise again, and when I am well off,
+and have a few millions to spare, I will settle old debts. Everybody
+will be astonished because they won’t expect it, and I shall be more
+thought of than if I had paid up at the time.”
+
+“And if you are not allowed to go free?” asked Serge. “What if they
+arrest you?”
+
+“I shall be in Aix-la-Chapelle to-night,” said Herzog. “From there I
+shall treat with the shareholders of the Universal Credit. People judge
+things better at a distance. Are you coming with me?”
+
+“No,” replied Serge, in a low voice.
+
+“You are wrong. Fortune is capricious, and in six months we may be
+richer than we ever have been. But as you have decided, let me give you
+a piece of advice which will be worth the money you have lost. Confess
+all to your wife; she can get you out of this difficulty.”
+
+The financier held out a hand to Serge which he did not take.
+
+“Ah! pride!” murmured Herzog. “After all it is your right--It is you who
+pay!”
+
+Without answering a word the Prince went out.
+
+At that same hour, Madame Desvarennes, tired by long waiting, was pacing
+up and down her little drawing-room. A door opened and Marechal, the
+long-looked for messenger, appeared. He had been to Cayrol’s, but could
+not see him. The banker, who had shut himself up in his private office
+where he had worked all night, had given orders that no one should
+interrupt him. And as Madame Desvarennes seemed to have a question on
+her lips which she dared not utter, Marechal added that nothing unusual
+seemed to have happened at the house.
+
+But as the mistress was thanking her secretary, the great gate swung on
+its hinges, and a carriage rolled into the courtyard. Marechal flew to
+the window, and uttered one word,
+
+“Cayrol!”
+
+Madame Desvarennes motioned to him to leave her, and the banker appeared
+on the threshold.
+
+At a glance the mistress saw the ravages which the terrible night he
+had passed through had caused. Yesterday, the banker was rosy, firm, and
+upright as an oak, now he was bent, and withered like an old man. His
+hair had become gray about the temples, as if scorched by his burning
+thoughts. He was only the shadow of himself.
+
+Madame Desvarennes advanced toward him, and in one word asked a world of
+questions.
+
+“Well?” she said.
+
+Cayrol, gloomy and fierce, raised his eyes to the mistress, and
+answered:
+
+“Nothing!”
+
+“Did he not come?”
+
+“Yes, he came. But I had not the necessary energy to kill him. I thought
+it was an easier matter to become a murderer. And you thought so too,
+eh?”
+
+“Cayrol!” cried Madame Desvarennes, shuddering, and troubled to find
+that she had been so easily understood by him whom she had armed on her
+behalf.
+
+“The opportunity was a rare one, though,” continued Cayrol, getting
+excited. “Fancy; I found them together under my own roof. The law
+allowed me, if not the actual right to kill them, at least an excuse if
+I did so. Well, at the decisive moment, when I ought to have struck the
+blow, my heart failed me. He lives, and Jeanne loves him.”
+
+There was a pause.
+
+“What are you going to do?”
+
+“Get rid of him in another way,” answered Cayrol. “I had only two ways
+of killing him. One was to catch him in my own house, the other to call
+him out. My will failed me in the one case; my want of skill would fail
+me in the other. I will not fight Serge. Not because I fear death, for
+my life is blighted, and I don’t value it; but if I were dead, Jeanne
+would belong to him, and I could not bear the thought of that even in
+death. I must separate them forever.”
+
+“And how?”
+
+“By forcing him to disappear.”
+
+“And if he refuse?”
+
+Cayrol shook his head menacingly, and exclaimed:
+
+“I defy him! If he resist, I will bring him before the assizes!”
+
+“You?” said Madame Desvarennes, going nearer to Cayrol.
+
+“Yes, I!” answered the banker, with energy.
+
+“Wretched man! And my daughter?” cried the mistress. “Think well what
+you are saying! You would disgrace me and mine.”
+
+“Am I not dishonored myself?” asked Cayrol. “Your son-in-law is a
+robber, who has defiled my home and robbed my safe.”
+
+“An honest man does not seek to revenge himself after the manner you
+suggest,” said the mistress, gravely.
+
+“An honest man defends himself as he can. I am not a knight. I am only
+a financier. Money is my weapon. The Prince has stolen from me. I will
+have him sentenced as a thief.”
+
+Madame Desvarennes frowned.
+
+“Make out your account. I will pay it.”
+
+“Will you also pay me for my lost happiness?” cried the banker,
+exasperated. “Should I not rather have chosen to be ruined than be
+betrayed as I am? You can never repair the wrong he has done me. And
+then I am suffering so, I must have my revenge!”
+
+“Ah! fool that you are,” replied Madame Desvarennes. “The guilty will
+not feel your blows, but the innocent. When my daughter and I are in
+despair will you be less unhappy! Oh! Cayrol, take heed that you lose
+not in dignity what you gain in revenge. The less one is respected
+by others the more one must respect one’s self. Contempt and silence
+elevate the victim, while rage and hatred make him descend to the level
+of those who have outraged him.”
+
+“Let people judge me as they please. I care only for myself! I am a
+vulgar soul, and have a low mind--anything you like. But the idea that
+that woman belongs to another drives me mad. I ought to hate her, but,
+notwithstanding everything, I cannot live without her. If she will come
+back to me I will forgive her. It is ignoble! I feel it, but it is too
+strong for me. I adore her!”
+
+Before that blind love Madame Desvarennes shuddered. She thought of
+Micheline who loved Serge as Cayrol loved Jeanne.
+
+“Suppose she chooses to go away with Serge,” said the mistress to
+herself. In a moment she saw the house abandoned, Micheline and Serge in
+foreign lands, and she alone in the midst of her overthrown happiness,
+dying of sadness and regrets. She made a last effort to move Cayrol.
+
+“Come, must I appeal in vain? Can you forget that I was a sure and
+devoted friend to you, and that you owe your fortune to me? You are a
+good man and will not forget the past. You have been outraged and have
+the right of seeking revenge, but think that in carrying it out you will
+hurt two women who have never done you any harm. Be generous! Be just!
+Spare us!”
+
+Cayrol remained silent; his face did not relax. After a moment he said:
+
+“You see how low I have fallen, by not yielding at once to your
+supplications! Friendship, gratitude, generosity, all the good feelings
+I had, have been consumed by this execrable love. There is nothing left
+but love for her. For her, I forget everything. I degrade and debase
+myself. And what is worse than all, is that I know all this and yet I
+cannot help myself.”
+
+“Miserable man!” murmured the mistress.
+
+“Oh! most miserable,” sobbed Cayrol, falling into an armchair.
+
+Madame Desvarennes approached him, and quietly placed her hand on his
+shoulder.
+
+“Cayrol, you are weeping? Then, forgive.”
+
+The banker arose and, with lowering brow, said:
+
+“No! my resolution is irrevocable. I wish to place a world between
+Jeanne and Serge. If he has not gone away by tonight my complaint will
+be lodged in the courts of justice.”
+
+Madame Desvarennes no longer persisted. She saw that the husband’s heart
+was permanently closed.
+
+“It is well. I thank you for having warned me. You might have taken
+action without doing so. Good-by, Cayrol. I leave your conscience to
+judge between you and me.”
+
+The banker bowed, and murmured:
+
+“Good-by!”
+
+And with a heavy step, almost tottering, he went out.
+
+The sun had risen, and lit up the trees in the garden. Nature seemed to
+be making holiday. The flowers perfumed the air, and in the deep blue
+sky swallows were flying to and fro. This earthly joy exasperated Madame
+Desvarennes. She would have liked the world to be in mourning. She
+closed the window hastily, and remained lost in her own reflections.
+
+So everything was over! The great prosperity, the honor of the house,
+everything was foundering in a moment. Even her daughter might escape
+from her, and follow the infamous husband whom she adored in spite of
+his faults--perhaps because of his very faults--and might drag on a
+weary existence in a strange land, which would terminate in death.
+
+For that sweet and delicate child could not live without material
+comforts and mental ease, and her husband was doomed to go on from bad
+to worse, and would drag her down with him! The mistress pictured her
+daughter, that child whom she had brought up with the tenderest care,
+dying on a pallet, and the husband, odious to the last, refusing her
+admission to the room where Micheline was in agony.
+
+A fearful feeling of anger overcame her. Her motherly love gained the
+mastery, and in the silence of the room she roared out these words:
+
+“That shall not be!”
+
+The opening of the door recalled her to her senses, and she rose. It was
+Marechal, greatly agitated. After Cayrol’s arrival, not knowing what
+to do, he had gone to the Universal Credit Company, and there, to
+his astonishment, had found the offices closed. He had heard from the
+porter, one of those superb personages dressed in blue and red cloth,
+who were so important in the eyes of the shareholders, that the evening
+before, owing to the complaint of a director, the police had entered the
+offices, and taken the books away, and that the official seal had been
+placed on the doors. Marechal, much alarmed, had hastened back to Madame
+Desvarennes to apprise her of the fact. It was evidently necessary to
+take immediate steps to meet this new complication. Was this indeed the
+beginning of legal proceedings? And if so how would the Prince come out
+of it?
+
+Madame Desvarennes listened to Marechal, without uttering a word. Events
+were hurrying on even quicker than she had dreaded. The fears of the
+interested shareholders outran even the hatred of Cayrol. What would the
+judges call Herzog’s underhand dealings? Would it be embezzlement? Or
+forgery? Would they come and arrest the Prince at her house? The house
+of Desvarennes, which had never received a visit from a sheriff’s
+officer, was it to be disgraced now by the presence of the police?
+
+The mistress, in that fatal hour, became herself again. The
+strong-minded woman of old reappeared. Marechal was more alarmed at this
+sudden vigor than he had been at her late depression. When he saw Madame
+Desvarennes going toward the door, he made an effort to detain her.
+
+“Where are you going, Madame?” he inquired, with anxiety.
+
+The mistress gave him a look that terrified him, and answered:
+
+“I am going to square accounts with the Prince.”
+
+And, passing through the door leading to the little staircase, Madame
+Desvarennes went up to her son-in-law’s rooms.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII. THE MOTHER’S REVENGE
+
+On leaving Herzog, Serge had turned his steps toward the Rue
+Saint-Dominique. He had delayed the moment of going home as long as
+possible, but the streets were beginning to be crowded. He might meet
+some people of his acquaintance. He resolved to face what ever reception
+was awaiting him on the way, he was planning what course he should adopt
+to bring about a reconciliation with his redoubtable mother-in-law. He
+was no longer proud, but felt quite broken down. Only Madame Desvarennes
+could put him on his feet again; and, as cowardly in trouble as he had
+been insolent in prosperity, he accepted beforehand all that she
+might impose upon him; all, provided that she would cover him with her
+protection.
+
+He was frightened, not knowing how deep Herzog had led him in the mire.
+His moral sense had disappeared, but he had a vague instinct of the
+danger he had incurred. The financier’s last words came to his mind:
+“Confess all to your wife; she can get you out of this difficulty!”
+ He understood the meaning of them, and resolved to follow the advice.
+Micheline loved him. In appealing to her heart, deeply wounded as it
+was, he would have in her an ally, and he had long known that Madame
+Desvarennes could not oppose her daughter in anything.
+
+He entered the house through the back garden gate, and regained his
+room without making the slightest noise. He dreaded meeting Madame
+Desvarennes before seeing Micheline. First he changed his attire; he
+had walked about Paris in evening clothes. Looking in the glass he was
+surprised at the alteration in his features. Was his beauty going too?
+What would become of him if he failed to please. And, like an actor
+who is about to play an important part, he paid great attention to the
+making up of his face. He wished once more to captivate his wife, as his
+safety depended on the impression he was about to make on her. At last,
+satisfied with himself, he tried to look smiling, and went to his wife’s
+room.
+
+Micheline was up.
+
+At the sight of Serge she could not suppress an exclamation of surprise.
+It was a long time since he had discontinued these familiar visits. The
+presence of her beloved one in that room, which had seemed so empty when
+he was not there, made her feel happy, and she went to him with a smile,
+holding out her hand. Serge drew her gently toward him and kissed her
+hair.
+
+“Up, already, dear child,” said he, affectionately.
+
+“I have scarcely slept,” answered Micheline. “I was so anxious. I sat up
+for you part of the night. I had left you without saying good-night. It
+was the first time it had occurred, and I wanted to beg your pardon. But
+you came in very late.”
+
+“Micheline, it is I who am ungrateful,” interrupted Panine, making
+the young wife sit down beside him. “It is I who must ask you to be
+indulgent.”
+
+“Serge! I beg of you!” said the young wife, taking both his hands. “All
+is forgotten. I would not reproach you, I love you so much!”
+
+Micheline’s face beamed with joy, and tears filled her eyes.
+
+“You are weeping,” said Panine. “Ah! I feel the weight of my wrongs
+toward you. I see how deserving you are of respect and affection. I
+feel unworthy, and would kneel before you to say how I regret all the
+anxieties I have caused you, and that my only desire in the future will
+be to make you forget them.”
+
+“Oh! speak on! speak on!” cried Micheline, with delight. “What happiness
+to hear you say such sweet words! Open your heart to me! You know I
+would die to please you. If you have any anxieties or annoyances
+confide in me. I can relieve them. Who could resist me when you are in
+question?”
+
+“I have none, Micheline,” answered Serge, with the constrained manner of
+a man who is feigning. “Nothing but the regret of not having lived more
+for you.”
+
+“Is the future not in store for us?” said the young wife, looking
+lovingly at him.
+
+The Prince shook his head, saying:
+
+“Who can answer for the future?”
+
+Micheline came closer to her husband, not quite understanding what
+Serge meant, but her mind was on the alert, and in an alarmed tone, she
+resumed:
+
+“What strange words you are uttering? Are we not both young? And, if you
+like, is there not much happiness in store for us?”
+
+And she clung to him. Serge turned away.
+
+“Oh, stay,” she murmured, again putting her arms round him. “You are so
+truly mine at this moment!”
+
+Panine saw that the opportunity for confessing all had come. He was able
+to bring tears to his eyes, and went toward the window as if to hide his
+emotion. Micheline followed him, and, in an eager tone, continued:
+
+“Ah! I knew you were hiding something. You are unhappy or in pain;
+threatened perhaps? Ah! if you love me, tell me the truth!”
+
+“Well, yes! It is true, I am threatened. I am suffering and unhappy! But
+don’t expect a confession from me. I should blush to make it. But, thank
+Heaven, if I cannot extricate myself from the difficulty in which I am
+placed through my own folly and imprudence--there is yet another way out
+of it.”
+
+“Serge! you would kill yourself!” cried Micheline, terrified at the
+gesture Panine had made. “What would become of me then? But what is
+there that is so hard to explain? And to whom should it be said?”
+
+“To your mother,” answered Serge, bowing his head.
+
+“To my mother? Very well, I will go to her. Oh! don’t fear anything. I
+can defend you, and to strike you she will first have to attack me.”
+
+Serge put his arms round Micheline, and with a kiss, the hypocrite
+inspired her whom he entrusted with his safety with indomitable courage.
+
+“Wait for me here,” added the young wife, and passing through the little
+drawing-room she reached the smoking-room.
+
+She halted there a moment, out of breath and almost choked with emotion.
+The long expected day had arrived. Serge was coming back to her.
+She went on, and as she reached the door of the stair leading to her
+mother’s rooms, she heard a light tap from without.
+
+Greatly astonished, she opened the door, and suddenly drew back,
+uttering an exclamation. A woman, thickly veiled, stood before her.
+
+At the sight of Micheline the stranger seemed inclined to turn and
+fly. But overcome with jealousy, the young wife seized her by the arm,
+dragged off her veil, and recognizing her, exclaimed:
+
+“Jeanne!”
+
+Madame Cayrol approached Micheline, and beseechingly stretched out her
+hands:
+
+“Micheline! don’t think--I come--”
+
+“Hold your tongue!” cried Micheline. “Don’t tell me any lies! I know
+all! You are my husband’s mistress!”
+
+Crushed by such a stroke, Jeanne hid her face in her hands and moaned:
+
+“O God!”
+
+“You must really be bold,” continued Micheline, in a furious tone, “to
+seek him here, in my house, almost in my arms!”
+
+Jeanne drew herself up, blushing with shame and grief.
+
+“Ah! don’t think,” she said, “that love brings me here.”
+
+“What is it then?” asked Micheline, contemptuously.
+
+“The knowledge of inevitable and pressing danger which threatens Serge.”
+
+“A danger! Of what kind?”
+
+“Compromised by Herzog, he is at the mercy of my husband, who has sworn
+to ruin him.”
+
+“Your husband!”
+
+“Yes, he is his rival. If you could ruin me, would you not do it?” said
+Jeanne.
+
+“You!” retorted Micheline, passionately. “Do you think I am going to
+worry about you? Serge is my first thought. You say you came to warn
+him. What must be done?”
+
+“Without a moment’s delay he must go away!”
+
+A strange suspicion crossed Micheline’s mind. She approached Jeanne, and
+looking earnestly at her, said:
+
+“He must go away without delay, eh? And it is you, braving everything,
+without a thought of the trouble you leave behind you, who come to warn
+him? Ah! you mean to go with him?”
+
+Jeanne hesitated a moment. Then, boldly and impudently, defying and
+almost threatening the legitimate wife:
+
+“Well, yes, I wish to! Enough of dissimulation! I love him!” she
+exclaimed.
+
+Micheline, transfigured by passion, strong, and ready for a struggle,
+threw herself in Jeanne’s way, with arms outstretched, as if to prevent
+her going to Serge.
+
+“Well!” she said; “try to take him from me!”
+
+“Take him from you!” answered Jeanne, laughing like a mad woman. “To
+whom does he most belong? To the woman who was as ignorant of his love
+as she was of his danger; who could do nothing toward his happiness, and
+can do nothing for his safety? Or to the mistress who has sacrificed her
+honor to please him and risks her safety to save him?”
+
+“Ah! wretch!” cried Micheline, “to invoke your infamy as a right!”
+
+“Which of us has taken him from the other?” continued Jeanne, forgetting
+respect, modesty, everything. “Do you know that he loved me before he
+married you? Do you know that he abandoned me for you--for your money, I
+should say? Now, do you wish to weigh what I have suffered with what you
+suffer? Shall we make out a balance-sheet of our tears? Then, you will
+be able to tell which of us he has loved more, and to whom he really
+belongs.”
+
+Micheline had listened to this furious address almost in a state of
+stupor, and replied, vehemently:
+
+“What matter who triumphs if his ruin is certain. Selfish creatures that
+we are, instead of disputing about his love, let us unite in saving
+him! You say he must go away! But flight is surely an admission of
+guilt--humiliation and obscurity in a strange land. And that is what you
+advise, because you hope to share that miserable existence with him.
+You are urging him on to dishonor. His fate is in the hands of a man
+who adores you, who would sacrifice everything for you, as I would for
+Serge, and yet you have not thrown yourself at his feet! You have not
+offered your life as the price of your lover’s! And you say that you
+love him!”
+
+“Ah!” stammered Jeanne, distracted. “You wish me to save him for you!”
+
+“Is that the cry of your heart?” said Micheline, with crushing disdain.
+“Well, see what I am ready to do. If, to remove your jealous fears, it
+is necessary to sacrifice myself, I swear to you that if Serge be saved,
+he shall be perfectly free, and I will never see him again!”
+
+Micheline, chaste and calm, with hands raised to Heaven, seemed to grow
+taller and nobler. Jeanne, trembling and overpowered, looked at her
+rival with a painful effort, and murmured, softly:
+
+“Would you do that?”
+
+“I would do more!” said the lawful wife, bending before the mistress. “I
+ought to hate you, and I kneel at your feet and beseech you to listen
+to me. Do what I ask you and I will forgive you and bless you. Do not
+hesitate! Follow me! Let us throw ourselves at the feet of him whom you
+have outraged. His generosity cannot be less than ours, and to us,
+who sacrifice our love, he will not be able to refuse to sacrifice his
+vengeance.”
+
+This greatness and goodness awaked feelings in Jeanne’s heart which she
+thought dead. She was silent for a moment and then her breast heaved
+with convulsive sobs, and she fell helpless into the arms which
+Micheline, full of pity, held out to her.
+
+“Forgive me,” moaned the unhappy woman. “I am conquered. Your rights are
+sacred, and you have just made them still more so. Keep Serge: with you
+he will once more become honest and happy, because, if your love is not
+greater than mine, it is nobler and purer.”
+
+The two women went hand in hand to try to save the man whom they both
+adored.
+
+All this time Serge remained in the little drawing-room enjoying the
+hope of returning peace. It was sweet to him, after the troubles he had
+gone through. He had not the slightest suspicion of the scene in the
+adjoining room between Jeanne and Micheline. The fond heroism of his
+wife and the self-denial of his mistress were unknown to him.
+
+Time was passing. At least an hour had sped since Micheline left him to
+go to her mother, and Serge was beginning to think that the interview
+was very long, when a light step made him tremble. It came from the
+gallery. He thought it was Micheline, and opening the door, he went to
+meet her.
+
+He drew back disappointed, vexed, and anxious, when he found it was
+Pierre. The two men had never met alone since that terrible night at
+Nice. Panine assumed a bold demeanor, and returned Pierre’s firm look.
+Steadying his voice, he said:
+
+“Ah! is it you?”
+
+“Were you not expecting me?” answered Pierre whose harsh voice thrilled
+Serge.
+
+The Prince opened his mouth to speak, but Pierre, did not give him time.
+In stern and provoking accents, he continued:
+
+“I made you a promise once; have you forgotten it? I have a good memory.
+You are a villain, and I come to chastise you!”
+
+“Pierre!” exclaimed the Prince, starting fiercely.
+
+But he suddenly calmed himself, and added:
+
+“Leave me! I will not listen to you!”
+
+“You will have to, though! You are a source of trouble and shame to
+the family to which you have allied yourself, and as you have not the
+courage to kill yourself, I have come to help you. You must leave Paris
+to-night, or you will be arrested. We shall go together to Brussels and
+there we shall fight. If chance favors you, you will be at liberty to
+continue your infamies, but at any rate I shall have done my best to rid
+two unfortunate women of your presence.”
+
+“You are mad!” said Serge, sneeringly.
+
+“Don’t think so! And know that I am ready for any emergency. Come; must
+I strike you, to give you courage?” growled Pierre, ready to suit the
+action to the word.
+
+“Ah! take care!” snarled Serge, with an evil look.
+
+And opening a drawer which was close to him, he took out a revolver.
+
+“Thief first, then murderer!” said Pierre, with a terrible laugh. “Come,
+let’s see you do it!”
+
+And he was going toward the Prince when the door opened, and Madame
+Desvarennes came forward. Placing her hand on Pierre’s shoulder, she
+said, in that commanding tone which few could resist:
+
+“Go; wait for me in my room. I wish it!”
+
+Pierre bowed, and, without answering, went out.
+
+Serge had placed the pistol on the table and was waiting.
+
+“We have to talk over several matters,” said Madame Desvarennes,
+gravely, “and you know it.”
+
+“Yes, Madame,” answered Panine, sadly, “and, believe me, no one judges
+my conduct more severely than I do.”
+
+The mistress could not help looking surprised.
+
+“Ah!” she said, with irony, “I did not expect to find you in such a
+mood. You have not accustomed me to such humility and sweetness. You
+must be afraid, to have arrived at that stage!”
+
+The Prince appeared not to have understood the implied insult in
+his mother-in-law’s words. One thing struck him, which was that she
+evidently did not expect to find him repentant and humbled.
+
+“Micheline must have told you,” he began.
+
+“I have not seen my daughter,” interrupted the mistress, sharply, as if
+to make him understand that he must depend solely upon himself.
+
+Ignorant that Micheline had met Jeanne on her way to her mother, and
+had gone to Cayrol, Serge thought he was abandoned by his only powerful
+ally. He saw that he was lost and that his feigned resignation was
+useless. Unable to control himself any longer, his face darkened with
+rage.
+
+“She, too, against me! Well! I will defend myself alone!”
+
+Turning toward Madame Desvarennes, he added:
+
+“To begin with, what do you want with me?”
+
+“I wish to ask you a question. We business folk when we fail, and cannot
+pay our way, throw blood on the blot and it disappears. You members of
+the nobility, when you are disgraced, how do you manage?”
+
+“If I am not mistaken, Madame,” answered the Prince, in a light tone,
+“you do me the favor of asking what my intentions are for the future?
+I will answer you with precision. I purpose leaving to-night for
+Aix-la-Chapelle, where I shall join my friend Herzog. We shall begin our
+business again. My wife, on whose good feelings I rely, will accompany
+me, notwithstanding everything.”
+
+And in these last words he put all the venom of his soul.
+
+“My daughter will not leave me!” exclaimed Madame Desvarennes.
+
+“Very well, then, you can accompany her,” retorted Panine. “That
+arrangement will suit me. Since my troubles I have learned to appreciate
+domestic happiness.”
+
+“Ah! you hope to play your old games on me,” said Madame Desvarennes.
+“You won’t get much out of me. My daughter and I with you--in the stream
+where you are going to sink? Never!”
+
+“Well, then,” cried Panine, “what do you expect?”
+
+A violent ring at the front door resounded as Madame Desvarennes was
+about to answer, and stopped the words on her lips. This signal, which
+was used only on important occasions, sounded to Madame like a funeral
+knell. Serge frowned, and instinctively moved back.
+
+Marechal appeared through the half-open door with a scared face, and
+silently handed Madame Desvarennes a card. She glanced at it, turned
+pale, and said to the secretary:
+
+“Very well, let him wait!” She threw the card on the table. Serge came
+forward and read:
+
+“Delbarre, sheriff’s officer.”
+
+Haggard-looking and aghast, he turned to the mistress, as if seeking an
+explanation.
+
+“Well!” she observed: “it is clear, he has come to arrest you.”
+
+Serge rushed to a cabinet, and opening a drawer, took forth some
+handfuls of gold and notes, which he crammed into his pockets.
+
+“By the back stairs I shall have time to get away. It is my last chance!
+Keep the man for five minutes only.”
+
+“And if the door is guarded?” asked Madame Desvarennes.
+
+Serge remained abject before her. He felt himself enclosed in a ring
+which he could not break through.
+
+“One may be prosecuted without being condemned,” he gasped. “You will
+use your influence, I know, and you will get me out of this mess. I
+shall be grateful to you for ever, and will do anything you like! But
+don’t leave me, it would be cowardly!”
+
+He trembled, as he thus besought her distractedly.
+
+“The son-in-law of Madame Desvarennes does not go before the Assize
+Courts even to be acquitted,” said she, with a firm voice.
+
+“What would you have me do?” cried Serge, passionately.
+
+Madame Desvarennes did not answer, but pointed to the revolver on the
+table.
+
+“Kill myself? Ah! no; that would be giving you too much pleasure.”
+
+And he gave the weapon a push, so that it rolled close to Madame
+Desvarennes.
+
+“Ah! wretch!” cried she, giving way to her suppressed rage. “You are not
+even a Panine! The Panines knew how to die.”
+
+“I have not time to act a melodrama with you,” snarled Serge. “I am
+going to try to save myself.”
+
+And he took a step toward the door.
+
+The mistress seized the revolver, and threw herself before him.
+
+“You shall not go out!” she cried.
+
+“Are you mad?” he exclaimed, gnashing his teeth.
+
+“You shall not go out!” repeated the mistress, with flashing eyes.
+
+“We shall see!”
+
+And with a strong arm he seized Madame Desvarennes, and threw her aside.
+
+The mistress became livid. Serge had his hand on the handle of the door.
+He was about to escape. Madame Desvarennes’s arm was stretched forth.
+
+A shot made the windows rattle; the weapon fell from her hand, having
+done its work and, amid the smoke, a body dropped heavily on the carpet,
+which was soon dyed with blood.
+
+At the same moment, the door opened, and Micheline entered, holding in
+her hand the fatal receipt which she had just wrung from Cayrol. The
+young wife uttered a heartrending cry, and fell senseless on Serge’s
+body.
+
+Behind Micheline came the officer and Marechal. The secretary exchanged
+looks with the mistress, who was lifting her fainting daughter and
+clasping her in her arms. He understood all.
+
+Turning toward his companion, he said:
+
+“Alas! sir, here is a sad matter! The Prince, on hearing that you had
+come, took fright, although his fault was not very serious, and has shot
+himself.”
+
+The officer bowed respectfully to the mistress, who was bending over
+Micheline.
+
+“Please to withdraw, Madame. You have already suffered too much,” said
+he. “I understand your legitimate grief. If I need any information, this
+gentleman will give it to me.”
+
+Madame Desvarennes arose, and, without bending under the burden, she
+bore away on her bosom her daughter, regained.
+
+
+     ETEXT EDITOR’S BOOKMARKS:
+
+     A man weeps with difficulty before a woman
+     A uniform is the only garb which can hide poverty honorably
+     Antagonism to plutocracy and hatred of aristocrats
+     Because they moved, they thought they were progressing
+     Cowardly in trouble as he had been insolent in prosperity
+     Enough to be nobody’s unless I belong to him
+     Even those who do not love her desire to know her
+     Everywhere was feverish excitement, dissipation, and nullity
+     Flayed and roasted alive by the critics
+     Forget a dream and accept a reality
+     Hard workers are pitiful lovers
+     He lost his time, his money, his hair, his illusions
+     He was very unhappy at being misunderstood
+     Heed that you lose not in dignity what you gain in revenge
+     I thought the best means of being loved were to deserve it
+     I don’t pay myself with words
+     Implacable self-interest which is the law of the world
+     In life it is only nonsense that is common-sense
+     Is a man ever poor when he has two arms?
+     Is it by law only that you wish to keep me?
+     It was a relief when they rose from the table
+     Men of pleasure remain all their lives mediocre workers
+     Money troubles are not mortal
+     My aunt is jealous of me because I am a man of ideas
+     Negroes, all but monkeys!
+     Nothing that provokes laughter more than a disappointed lover
+     One amuses one’s self at the risk of dying
+     Patience, should he encounter a dull page here or there
+     Romanticism still ferments beneath the varnish of Naturalism
+     Sacrifice his artistic leanings to popular caprice
+     Scarcely was one scheme launched when another idea occurred
+     She would have liked the world to be in mourning
+     Suffering is a human law; the world is an arena
+     Talk with me sometimes. You will not chatter trivialities
+     The guilty will not feel your blows, but the innocent
+     The uncontested power which money brings
+     They had only one aim, one passion--to enjoy themselves
+     Unqualified for happiness
+     We had taken the dream of a day for eternal happiness
+     What is a man who remains useless
+     Without a care or a cross, he grew weary like a prisoner
+     You are talking too much about it to be sincere
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Serge Panine, Complete, by Georges Ohnet
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SERGE PANINE, COMPLETE ***
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+<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?>
+
+<!DOCTYPE html
+   PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN"
+   "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" >
+
+<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en">
+  <head>
+    <title>
+      Serge Panine, by Georges Ohnet
+    </title>
+    <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve">
+
+    body { margin:5%; background:#faebd7; text-align:justify}
+    P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; }
+    H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; }
+    hr  { width: 50%; text-align: center;}
+    .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; }
+    blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;}
+    .mynote    {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;}
+    .toc       { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;}
+    .toc2      { margin-left: 20%;}
+    div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; }
+    .figleft   {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;}
+    .figright  {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;}
+    pre     { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;}
+
+</style>
+  </head>
+  <body>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Serge Panine, Complete, by Georges Ohnet
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Serge Panine, Complete
+
+Author: Georges Ohnet
+
+Release Date: October 4, 2006 [EBook #3918]
+[Last updated: August 23, 2016]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SERGE PANINE, COMPLETE ***
+
+
+
+Produced by David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+    <h1>
+      SERGE PANINE
+    </h1>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <h2>
+      By Georges Ohnet
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      With a General Introduction to the Series by GASTON BOISSIER, <br />Secretaire
+      Perpetuel de l&rsquo;academie Francaise. <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <blockquote>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big>
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        <br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> GENERAL INTRODUCTION </a><br /> <br /> <a
+        href="#link2H_4_0002"> GEORGES OHNET </a><br /><br /> <a
+        href="#link2H_4_0003"> <b>SERGE PANINE</b> </a> <br /><br /> <a
+        href="#link2H_4_0004"> <b>BOOK 1.</b> </a>&nbsp;&nbsp; <br /><br /> <a
+        href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. </a>THE HOUSE OF DESVARENNES <br /><br />
+        <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. </a>THE GALLEY-SLAVE OF PLEASURE
+        <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. </a>PIERRE RETURNS
+        <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV. </a>THE RIVALS <br /><br />
+        <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V. </a>A CRITICAL INTERVIEW <br /><br />
+        <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI. </a>A SIGNIFICANT MEETING <br /><br />
+        <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> <b>BOOK 2.</b> </a>&nbsp;&nbsp; <br /><br /> <a
+        href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII. </a>JEANNE&rsquo;S SECRET <br /><br /> <a
+        href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII. </a>A PLEASANT UNDERSTANDING <br /><br />
+        <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX. </a>THE DOUBLE MARRIAGE <br /><br />
+        <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X. </a>CAYROL&rsquo;S DISAPPOINTMENT <br /><br />
+        <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI. </a>CONFESSION <br /><br /> <a
+        href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII. </a>THE FETE <br /><br /> <a
+        href="#link2H_4_0018"> <b>BOOK 3.</b> </a>&nbsp;&nbsp; <br /><br /> <a
+        href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII. </a> THE FIRST BREAK <br /><br /> <a
+        href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV. </a>A SUDDEN JOURNEY <br /><br /> <a
+        href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV. </a>MOTHER AND DAUGHTER <br /><br /> <a
+        href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI. </a>THE TELLTALE KISS <br /><br /> <a
+        href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII. </a>CAYROL IS BLIND <br /><br /> <a
+        href="#link2H_4_0024"> <b>BOOK 4.</b> </a>&nbsp;&nbsp; <br /><br /> <a
+        href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE
+        UNIVERSAL CREDIT COMPANY <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER
+        XIX. </a>SIN GROWS BOLDER <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER
+        XX. </a>THE CRISIS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI. </a>"WHEN
+        ROGUES FALL OUT&rdquo; <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII. </a>THE
+        MOTHER&rsquo;S REVENGE <br /><br />
+      </p>
+    </blockquote>
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <h2>
+      GENERAL INTRODUCTION
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      1905
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      BY ROBERT ARNOT
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The editor-in-chief of the Maison Mazarin&mdash;a man of letters who
+      cherishes an enthusiastic yet discriminating love for the literary and
+      artistic glories of France&mdash;formed within the last two years the
+      great project of collecting and presenting to the vast numbers of
+      intelligent readers of whom New World boasts a series of those great and
+      undying romances which, since 1784, have received the crown of merit
+      awarded by the French Academy&mdash;that coveted assurance of immortality
+      in letters and in art.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the presentation of this serious enterprise for the criticism and
+      official sanction of The Academy, &lsquo;en seance&rsquo;, was included a request
+      that, if possible, the task of writing a preface to the series should be
+      undertaken by me. Official sanction having been bestowed upon the plan, I,
+      as the accredited officer of the French Academy, convey to you its hearty
+      appreciation, endorsement, and sympathy with a project so nobly artistic.
+      It is also my duty, privilege, and pleasure to point out, at the request
+      of my brethren, the peculiar importance and lasting value of this series
+      to all who would know the inner life of a people whose greatness no turns
+      of fortune have been able to diminish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the last hundred years France has experienced the most terrible
+      vicissitudes, but, vanquished or victorious, triumphant or abased, never
+      has she lost her peculiar gift of attracting the curiosity of the world.
+      She interests every living being, and even those who do not love her
+      desire to know her. To this peculiar attraction which radiates from her,
+      artists and men of letters can well bear witness, since it is to
+      literature and to the arts, before all, that France owes such living and
+      lasting power. In every quarter of the civilized world there are
+      distinguished writers, painters, and eminent musicians, but in France they
+      exist in greater numbers than elsewhere. Moreover, it is universally
+      conceded that French writers and artists have this particular and
+      praiseworthy quality: they are most accessible to people of other
+      countries. Without losing their national characteristics, they possess the
+      happy gift of universality. To speak of letters alone: the books that
+      Frenchmen write are read, translated, dramatized, and imitated everywhere;
+      so it is not strange that these books give to foreigners a desire for a
+      nearer and more intimate acquaintance with France.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Men preserve an almost innate habit of resorting to Paris from almost
+      every quarter of the globe. For many years American visitors have been
+      more numerous than others, although the journey from the United States is
+      long and costly. But I am sure that when for the first time they see Paris&mdash;its
+      palaces, its churches, its museums&mdash;and visit Versailles,
+      Fontainebleau, and Chantilly, they do not regret the travail they have
+      undergone. Meanwhile, however, I ask myself whether such sightseeing is
+      all that, in coming hither, they wish to accomplish. Intelligent
+      travellers&mdash;and, as a rule, it is the intelligent class that feels
+      the need of the educative influence of travel&mdash;look at our beautiful
+      monuments, wander through the streets and squares among the crowds that
+      fill them, and, observing them, I ask myself again: Do not such people
+      desire to study at closer range these persons who elbow them as they pass;
+      do they not wish to enter the houses of which they see but the facades; do
+      they not wish to know how Parisians live and speak and act by their
+      firesides? But time, alas! is lacking for the formation of those intimate
+      friendships which would bring this knowledge within their grasp. French
+      homes are rarely open to birds of passage, and visitors leave us with
+      regret that they have not been able to see more than the surface of our
+      civilization or to recognize by experience the note of our inner home
+      life.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      How, then, shall this void be filled? Speaking in the first person, the
+      simplest means appears to be to study those whose profession it is to
+      describe the society of the time, and primarily, therefore, the works of
+      dramatic writers, who are supposed to draw a faithful picture of it. So we
+      go to the theatre, and usually derive keen pleasure therefrom. But is
+      pleasure all that we expect to find? What we should look for above
+      everything in a comedy or a drama is a representation, exact as possible,
+      of the manners and characters of the dramatis persona of the play; and
+      perhaps the conditions under which the play was written do not allow such
+      representation. The exact and studied portrayal of a character demands
+      from the author long preparation, and cannot be accomplished in a few
+      hours. From, the first scene to the last, each tale must be posed in the
+      author&rsquo;s mind exactly as it will be proved to be at the end. It is the
+      author&rsquo;s aim and mission to place completely before his audience the souls
+      of the &ldquo;agonists&rdquo; laying bare the complications of motive, and throwing
+      into relief the delicate shades of motive that sway them. Often, too, the
+      play is produced before a numerous audience&mdash;an audience often
+      distrait, always pressed for time, and impatient of the least delay.
+      Again, the public in general require that they shall be able to understand
+      without difficulty, and at first thought, the characters the author seeks
+      to present, making it necessary that these characters be depicted from
+      their most salient sides&mdash;which are too often vulgar and
+      unattractive.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In our comedies and dramas it is not the individual that is drawn, but the
+      type. Where the individual alone is real, the type is a myth of the
+      imagination&mdash;a pure invention. And invention is the mainspring of the
+      theatre, which rests purely upon illusion, and does not please us unless
+      it begins by deceiving us.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I believe, then, that if one seeks to know the world exactly as it is, the
+      theatre does not furnish the means whereby one can pursue the study. A far
+      better opportunity for knowing the private life of a people is available
+      through the medium of its great novels. The novelist deals with each
+      person as an individual. He speaks to his reader at an hour when the mind
+      is disengaged from worldly affairs, and he can add without restraint every
+      detail that seems needful to him to complete the rounding of his story. He
+      can return at will, should he choose, to the source of the plot he is
+      unfolding, in order that his reader may better understand him; he can
+      emphasize and dwell upon those details which an audience in a theatre will
+      not allow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The reader, being at leisure, feels no impatience, for he knows that he
+      can at any time lay down or take up the book. It is the consciousness of
+      this privilege that gives him patience, should he encounter a dull page
+      here or there. He may hasten or delay his reading, according to the
+      interest he takes in his romance-nay, more, he can return to the earlier
+      pages, should he need to do so, for a better comprehension of some obscure
+      point. In proportion as he is attracted and interested by the romance, and
+      also in the degree of concentration with which he reads it, does he grasp
+      better the subtleties of the narrative. No shade of character drawing
+      escapes him. He realizes, with keener appreciation, the most delicate of
+      human moods, and the novelist is not compelled to introduce the characters
+      to him, one by one, distinguishing them only by the most general
+      characteristics, but can describe each of those little individual
+      idiosyncrasies that contribute to the sum total of a living personality.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When I add that the dramatic author is always to a certain extent a slave
+      to the public, and must ever seek to please the passing taste of his time,
+      it will be recognized that he is often, alas! compelled to sacrifice his
+      artistic leanings to popular caprice-that is, if he has the natural desire
+      that his generation should applaud him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As a rule, with the theatre-going masses, one person follows the fads or
+      fancies of others, and individual judgments are too apt to be irresistibly
+      swayed by current opinion. But the novelist, entirely independent of his
+      reader, is not compelled to conform himself to the opinion of any person,
+      or to submit to his caprices. He is absolutely free to picture society as
+      he sees it, and we therefore can have more confidence in his descriptions
+      of the customs and characters of the day.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It is precisely this view of the case that the editor of the series has
+      taken, and herein is the raison d&rsquo;etre of this collection of great French
+      romances. The choice was not easy to make. That form of literature called
+      the romance abounds with us. France has always loved it, for French
+      writers exhibit a curiosity&mdash;and I may say an indiscretion&mdash;that
+      is almost charming in the study of customs and morals at large; a quality
+      that induces them to talk freely of themselves and of their neighbors, and
+      to set forth fearlessly both the good and the bad in human nature. In this
+      fascinating phase of literature, France never has produced greater
+      examples than of late years.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the collection here presented to American readers will be found those
+      works especially which reveal the intimate side of French social
+      life-works in which are discussed the moral problems that affect most
+      potently the life of the world at large. If inquiring spirits seek to
+      learn the customs and manners of the France of any age, they must look for
+      it among her crowned romances. They need go back no farther than Ludovic
+      Halevy, who may be said to open the modern epoch. In the romantic school,
+      on its historic side, Alfred de Vigny must be looked upon as supreme. De
+      Musset and Anatole France may be taken as revealing authoritatively the
+      moral philosophy of nineteenth-century thought. I must not omit to mention
+      the Jacqueline of Th. Bentzon, and the &ldquo;Attic&rdquo; Philosopher of Emile
+      Souvestre, nor the great names of Loti, Claretie, Coppe, Bazin, Bourget,
+      Malot, Droz, De Massa, and last, but not least, our French Dickens,
+      Alphonse Daudet. I need not add more; the very names of these &ldquo;Immortals&rdquo;
+       suffice to commend the series to readers in all countries.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One word in conclusion: America may rest assured that her students of
+      international literature will find in this series of &lsquo;ouvrages couronnes&rsquo; 
+      all that they may wish to know of France at her own fireside&mdash;a
+      knowledge that too often escapes them, knowledge that embraces not only a
+      faithful picture of contemporary life in the French provinces, but a
+      living and exact description of French society in modern times. They may
+      feel certain that when they have read these romances, they will have
+      sounded the depths and penetrated into the hidden intimacies of France,
+      not only as she is, but as she would be known.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      GASTON BOISSIER SECRETAIRE PERPETUEL DE L&rsquo;ACADEMIE FRANCAISE <a
+      name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      GEORGES OHNET
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The only French novelist whose books have a circulation approaching the
+      works of Daudet and of Zola is Georges Ohnet, a writer whose popularity is
+      as interesting as his stories, because it explains, though it does not
+      excuse, the contempt the Goncourts had for the favor of the great French
+      public, and also because it shows how the highest form of Romanticism
+      still ferments beneath the varnish of Naturalism in what is called genius
+      among the great masses of readers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Georges Ohnet was born in Paris, April 3, 1848, the son of an architect.
+      He was destined for the Bar, but was early attracted by journalism and
+      literature. Being a lawyer it was not difficult for him to join the
+      editorial staff of Le Pays, and later Le Constitutionnel. This was soon
+      after the Franco-German War. His romances, since collected under the title
+      &lsquo;Batailles de la Vie&rsquo;, appeared first in &lsquo;Le Figaro, L&rsquo;Illustration, and
+      Revue des Deux Mondes&rsquo;, and have been exceedingly well received by the
+      public. This relates also to his dramas, some of his works meeting with a
+      popular success rarely extended to any author. For some time Georges Ohnet
+      did not find the same favor with the critics, who often attacked him with
+      a passionate violence and unusual severity. True, a high philosophical
+      flow of thoughts cannot be detected in his writings, but nevertheless it
+      is certain that the characters and the subjects of which he treats are
+      brilliantly sketched and clearly developed. They are likewise of perfect
+      morality and honesty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was expected of him, however, an idea which was not quite realized.
+      Appearing upon the literary stage at a period when Naturalism was
+      triumphant, it was for a moment believed that he would restore Idealism in
+      the manner of George Sand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In any case the hostile critics have lost. For years public opinion has
+      exalted him, and the reaction is the more significant when compared with
+      the tremendous criticism launched against his early romances and novels.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A list of his works follows:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge Panine (1881), crowned by the French Academy, has since gone through
+      one hundred and fifty French editions; Le Maitre des Forges (1882), a
+      prodigious success, two hundred and fifty editions being printed (1900);
+      La Comtesse Sarah (1882); Lise Fleuyon (1884); La Grande Maynieye (1886);
+      Les Dames de Croix-Mort (1886); Volonte (1888); Le Docteur Rameau (1889);
+      Deynier Amour (1889); Le Cure de Favieyes (1890); Dette de Haine (1891);
+      Nemsod et Cie. (1892); Le Lendemain des Amours (1893); Le Droit de
+      l&rsquo;Enfant (1894.); Les Vielles Rancunes (1894); La Dame en Gris (1895); La
+      Fille du Depute (1896); Le Roi de Paris (1898); Au Fond du Gouffre (1899);
+      Gens de la Noce (1900); La Tenibreuse (1900); Le Cyasseur d&rsquo;Affaires
+      (1901); Le Crepuscule (1901); Le Marche a l&rsquo;Amour (1902).
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Ohnet&rsquo;s novels are collected under the titles, &lsquo;Noir et Rose (1887) and
+      L&rsquo;Ame de Pierre (1890).
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The dramatic writings of Georges Ohnet, mostly taken from his novels, have
+      greatly contributed to his reputation. Le Maitre des Forges was played for
+      a full year (Gymnase, 1883); it was followed by Serge Panine (1884); La
+      Comtesse Sarah (1887). La Grande Mayniere (1888), met also with a decided
+      and prolonged success; Dernier Amour (Gymnase, 1890); Colonel Roquebrune
+      (Porte St. Martin, 1897). Before that he had already written the plays
+      Regina Sarpi (1875) and Marthe (1877), which yet hold a prominent place
+      upon the French stage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I have shown in this rapid sketch that a man of the stamp of Georges Ohnet
+      must have immortal qualities in himself, even though flayed and roasted
+      alive by the critics. He is most assuredly an artist in form, is endowed
+      with a brilliant style, and has been named &ldquo;L&rsquo;Historiographe de la
+      bourgeoise contemporaine.&rdquo; Indeed, antagonism to plutocracy and hatred of
+      aristocracy are the fundamental theses in almost every one of his books.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His exposition, I repeat, is startlingly neat, the development of his
+      plots absolutely logical, and the world has acclaimed his ingenuity in
+      dramatic construction. He is truly, and in all senses, of the Ages.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+                    VICTOR CHERBOULIEZ
+                   de l&rsquo;Academie Francaise
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h1>
+      SERGE PANINE
+    </h1>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      BOOK 1.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER I. THE HOUSE OF DESVARENNES
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The firm of Desvarennes has been in an ancient mansion in the Rue Saint
+      Dominique since 1875; it is one of the best known and most important in
+      French industry. The counting-houses are in the wings of the building
+      looking upon the courtyard, which were occupied by the servants when the
+      family whose coat-of-arms has been effaced from above the gate-way were
+      still owners of the estate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes inhabits the mansion which she has had magnificently
+      renovated. A formidable rival of the Darblays, the great millers of
+      France, the firm of Desvarennes is a commercial and political power.
+      Inquire in Paris about its solvency, and you will be told that you may
+      safely advance twenty millions of francs on the signature of the head of
+      the firm. And this head is a woman.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This woman is remarkable. Gifted with keen understanding and a firm will,
+      she had in former times vowed to make a large fortune, and she has kept
+      her word.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She was the daughter of a humble packer of the Rue Neuve-Coquenard. Toward
+      1848 she married Michel Desvarennes, who was then a journeyman baker in a
+      large shop in the Chaussee d&rsquo;Antin. With the thousand francs which the
+      packer managed to give his daughter by way of dowry, the young couple
+      boldly took a shop and started a little bakery business. The husband
+      kneaded and baked the bread, and the young wife, seated at the counter,
+      kept watch over the till. Neither on Sundays nor on holidays was the shop
+      shut.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Through the window, between two pyramids of pink and blue packets of
+      biscuits, one could always catch sight of the serious-looking Madame
+      Desvarennes, knitting woollen stockings for her husband while waiting for
+      customers. With her prominent forehead, and her eyes always bent on her
+      work, this woman appeared the living image of perseverance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At the end of five years of incessant work, and possessing twenty thousand
+      francs, saved sou by sou, the Desvarennes left the slopes of Montmartre,
+      and moved to the centre of Paris. They were ambitious and full of
+      confidence. They set up in the Rue Vivienne, in a shop resplendent with
+      gilding and ornamented with looking-glasses. The ceiling was painted in
+      panels with bright hued pictures that caught the eyes of the passers-by.
+      The window-shelves were of white marble, and the counter, where Madame
+      Desvarennes was still enthroned, was of a width worthy of the receipts
+      that were taken every day. Business increased daily; the Desvarennes
+      continued to be hard and systematic workers. The class of customers alone
+      had changed; they were more numerous and richer. The house had a specialty
+      for making small rolls for the restaurants. Michel had learned from the
+      Viennese bakers how to make those golden balls which tempt the most
+      rebellious appetite, and which, when in an artistically folded damask
+      napkin, set off a dinner-table.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      About this time Madame Desvarennes, while calculating how much the millers
+      must gain on the flour they sell to the bakers, resolved, in order to
+      lessen expenses, to do without middlemen and grind her own corn. Michel,
+      naturally timid, was frightened when his wife disclosed to him the simple
+      project which she had formed. Accustomed to submit to the will of her whom
+      he respectfully called &ldquo;the mistress,&rdquo; and of whom he was but the head
+      clerk, he dared not oppose her. But, a red-tapist by nature, and hating
+      innovations, owing to weakness of mind, he trembled inwardly and cried in
+      agony:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wife, you&rsquo;ll ruin us.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The mistress calmed the poor man&rsquo;s alarm; she tried to impart to him some
+      of her confidence, to animate him with her hope, but without success, so
+      she went on without him. A mill was for sale at Jouy, on the banks of the
+      Oise; she paid ready money for it, and a few weeks later the bakery in the
+      Rue Vivienne was independent of every one. She ground her own flour, and
+      from that time business increased considerably. Feeling capable of
+      carrying out large undertakings, and, moreover, desirous of giving up the
+      meannesses of retail trade, Madame Desvarennes, one fine day, sent in a
+      tender for supplying bread to the military hospitals. It was accepted, and
+      from that time the house ranked among the most important. On seeing the
+      Desvarennes take their daring flight, the leading men in the trade had
+      said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They have system and activity, and if they do not upset on the way, they
+      will attain a high position.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But the mistress seemed to have the gift of divination. She worked surely&mdash;if
+      she struck out one way you might be certain that success was there. In all
+      her enterprises, &ldquo;good luck&rdquo; stood close by her; she scented failures from
+      afar, and the firm never made a bad debt. Still Michel continued to
+      tremble. The first mill had been followed by many more; then the old
+      system appeared insufficient to Madame Desvarennes. As she wished to keep
+      up with the increase of business she had steam-mills built,&mdash;which
+      are now grinding three hundred million francs&rsquo; worth of corn every year.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Fortune had favored the house immensely, but Michel continued to tremble.
+      From time to time when the mistress launched out a new business, he
+      timidly ventured on his usual saying:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wife, you&rsquo;re going to ruin us.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But one felt it was only for form&rsquo;s sake, and that he himself no longer
+      meant what he said. Madame Desvarennes received this plaintive
+      remonstrance with a calm smile, and answered, maternally, as to a child:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There, there, don&rsquo;t be frightened.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Then she would set to work again, and direct with irresistible vigor the
+      army of clerks who peopled her counting-houses.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In fifteen years&rsquo; time, by prodigious efforts of will and energy, Madame
+      Desvarennes had made her way from the lonely and muddy Rue Neuve-Coquenard
+      to the mansion in the Rue Saint-Dominique. Of the bakery there was no
+      longer question. It was some time since the business in the Rue Vivienne
+      had been transferred to the foreman of the shop. The flour trade alone
+      occupied Madame Desvarennes&rsquo;s attention. She ruled the prices in the
+      market; and great bankers came to her office and did business with her on
+      a footing of equality. She did not become any prouder for it, she knew too
+      well the strength and weakness of life to have pride; her former plain
+      dealing had not stiffened into self-sufficiency. Such as one had known her
+      when beginning business, such one found her in the zenith of her fortune.
+      Instead of a woollen gown she wore a silk one, but the color was still
+      black; her language had not become refined; she retained the same blunt
+      familiar accent, and at the end of five minutes&rsquo; conversation with any one
+      of importance she could not resist calling him &ldquo;my dear,&rdquo; to come morally
+      near him. Her commands had more fulness. In giving her orders, she had the
+      manner of a commander-in-chief, and it was useless to haggle when she had
+      spoken. The best thing to do was to obey, as well and as promptly as
+      possible.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Placed in a political sphere, this marvellously gifted woman would have
+      been a Madame Roland; born to the throne, she would have been a Catherine
+      II.; there was genius in her. Sprung from the lower ranks, her superiority
+      had given her wealth; had she come from the higher, the great mind might
+      have governed the world.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Still she was not happy; she had been married fifteen years, and her
+      fireside was devoid of a cradle. During the first years she had rejoiced
+      at not having a child. Where could she have found time to occupy herself
+      with a baby? Business engrossed her attention; she had no leisure to amuse
+      herself with trifles. Maternity seemed to her a luxury for rich women; she
+      had her fortune to make. In the struggle against the difficulties
+      attending the enterprise she had begun, she had not had time to look
+      around her and perceive that her home was lonely. She worked from morning
+      till night. Her whole life was absorbed in this work, and when night came,
+      overcome with fatigue, she fell asleep, her head filled with cares which
+      stifled all tricks of the imagination.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Michel grieved, but in silence; his feeble and dependent nature missed a
+      child. He, whose mind lacked occupation, thought of the future. He said to
+      himself that the day when the dreamt-of fortune came would be more welcome
+      if there were an heir to whom to leave it. What was the good of being
+      rich, if the money went to collateral relatives? There was his nephew
+      Savinien, a disagreeable urchin whom he looked on with indifference; and
+      he was biased regarding his brother, who had all but failed several times
+      in business, and to whose aid he had come to save the honor of the name.
+      The mistress had not hesitated to help him, and had prevented the
+      signature of &ldquo;Desvarennes&rdquo; being protested. She had not taunted him,
+      having as large a heart as she had a mind. But Michel had felt humiliated
+      to see his own folk make a gap in the financial edifice erected so
+      laboriously by his wife. Out of this had gradually sprung a sense of
+      dissatisfaction with the Desvarennes of the other branch, which manifested
+      itself by a marked coolness, when, by chance, his brother came to the
+      house, accompanied by his son Savinien.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And then the paternity of his brother made him secretly jealous. Why
+      should that incapable fellow, who succeeded in nothing, have a son? It was
+      only those ne&rsquo;er-do-well sort of people who were thus favored. He, Michel,
+      already called the rich Desvarennes, he had not a son. Was it just? But
+      where is there justice in this world?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The first time that she saw him with a downcast face the mistress had
+      questioned him, and he had frankly expressed his regrets. But he had been
+      so repelled by his wife, in whose heart a great trouble, steadily
+      repressed, however, had been produced, that he never dared to recur to the
+      subject.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He suffered in silence. But he no longer suffered alone. Like an
+      overflowing river that finds an outlet in the valley, which it inundates,
+      the longings for maternity, hitherto repressed by the preoccupations of
+      business, had suddenly seized Madame Desvarennes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Strong and unyielding, she struggled and would not own herself conquered.
+      Still she became sad. Her voice sounded less sonorously in the offices
+      where she gave an order; her energetic nature seemed subdued. Now she
+      looked around her. She beheld prosperity made stable by incessant work,
+      respect gained by spotless honesty; she had attained the goal which she
+      had marked out in her ambitious dreams, as being paradise itself. Paradise
+      was there; but it lacked the angel. They had no child.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      From that day a change came over this woman, slowly but surely; scarcely
+      perceptible to strangers, but easy to be seen by those around her. She
+      became benevolent, and gave away considerable sums of money, especially to
+      children&rsquo;s &ldquo;Homes.&rdquo; But when the good people who governed these
+      establishments, lured on by her generosity, came to ask her to be on their
+      committee of management, she became angry, asking them if they were joking
+      with her? What interest could those brats have for her? She had other fish
+      to fry. She gave them what they needed, and what more could they want? The
+      fact was she felt weak and troubled before children. But within her a
+      powerful and unknown voice had arisen, and the hour was not far distant
+      when the bitter wave of her regrets was to overflow and be made manifest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She did not like Savinien, her nephew, and kept all her sweetness for the
+      son of one of their old neighbors in the Rue Neuve-Coquenard, a small
+      haberdasher, who had not been able to get on, but continued humbly to sell
+      thread and needles to the thrifty folks of the neighborhood. The
+      haberdasher, Mother Delarue, as she was called, had remained a widow after
+      one year of married life. Pierre, her boy, had grown up under the shadow
+      of the bakery, the cradle of the Desvarennes&rsquo;s fortunes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On Sundays the mistress would give him a gingerbread or a cracknel, and
+      amuse herself with his baby prattle. She did not lose sight of him when
+      she removed to the Rue Vivienne. Pierre had entered the elementary school
+      of the neighborhood, and by his precocious intelligence and exceptional
+      application, had not been long in getting to the top of his class. The boy
+      had left school after gaining an exhibition admitting him to the Chaptal
+      College. This hard worker, who was in a fair way of making his own
+      position without costing his relatives anything, greatly interested Madame
+      Desvarennes. She found in this plucky nature a striking analogy to
+      herself. She formed projects for Pierre&rsquo;s future; in fancy she saw him
+      enter the Polytechnic school, and leave it with honors. The young man had
+      the choice of becoming a mining or civil engineer, and of entering the
+      government service.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was hesitating what to do when the mistress came and offered him a
+      situation in her firm as junior partner; it was a golden bridge that she
+      placed before him. With his exceptional capacities he was not long in
+      giving to the house a new impulse. He perfected the machinery, and
+      triumphantly defied all competition. All this was a happy dream in which
+      Pierre was to her a real son; her home became his, and she monopolized him
+      completely. But suddenly a shadow came o&rsquo;er the spirit of her dreams.
+      Pierre&rsquo;s mother, the little haberdasher, proud of her son, would she
+      consent to give him up to a stranger? Oh! if Pierre had only been an
+      orphan! But one could not rob a mother of her son! And Madame Desvarennes
+      stopped the flight of her imagination. She followed Pierre with anxious
+      looks; but she forbade herself to dispose of the youth: he did not belong
+      to her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This woman, at the age of thirty-five, still young in heart, was disturbed
+      by feelings which she strove, but vainly, to rule. She hid them especially
+      from her husband, whose repining chattering she feared. If she had once
+      shown him her weakness he would have overwhelmed her daily with the burden
+      of his regrets. But an unforeseen circumstance placed her at Michel&rsquo;s
+      mercy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Winter had come, bringing December and its snow. The weather this year was
+      exceptionally inclement, and traffic in the streets was so difficult,
+      business was almost suspended. The mistress left her deserted offices and
+      retired early to her private apartments. The husband and wife spent their
+      evenings alone. They sat there, facing each other, at the fireside. A
+      shade concentrated the light of the lamp upon the table covered with
+      expensive knick-knacks. The ceiling was sometimes vaguely lighted up by a
+      glimmer from the stove which glittered on the gilt cornices. Ensconced in
+      deep comfortable armchairs, the pair respectively caressed their favorite
+      dream without speaking of it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes saw beside her a little pink-and-white baby girl,
+      toddling on the carpet. She heard her words, understood her language,
+      untranslatable to all others than a mother. Then bedtime came. The child,
+      with heavy eyelids, let her little fair-haired head fall on her shoulders.
+      Madame Desvarennes took her in her arms and undressed her quietly, kissing
+      her bare and dimpled arms. It was exquisite enjoyment which stirred her
+      heart deliciously. She saw the cradle, and devoured the child with her
+      eyes. She knew that the picture was a myth. But what did it matter to her?
+      She was happy. Michel&rsquo;s voice broke on her reverie.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wife,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;this is Christmas Eve; and as there are only us two,
+      suppose you put your slipper on the hearth.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes rose. Her eyes vaguely turned toward the hearth on
+      which the fire was dying, and beside the upright of the large sculptured
+      mantelpiece she beheld for a moment a tiny shoe, belonging to the child
+      which she loved to see in her dreams. Then the vision vanished, and there
+      was nothing left but the lonely hearth. A sharp pain tore her swollen
+      heart; a sob rose to her lips, and, slowly, two tears rolled down her
+      cheeks. Michel, quite pale, looked at her in silence; he held out his hand
+      to her, and said, in a trembling voice:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You were thinking about it, eh?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes bowed her head, twice, silently, and without adding
+      another word, the pair fell into each other&rsquo;s arms and wept.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      From that day they hid nothing from each other, and shared their troubles
+      and regrets in common. The mistress unburdened her heart by making a full
+      confession, and Michel, for the first time in his life, learned the depth
+      of soul of his companion to its inmost recesses. This woman, so energetic,
+      so obstinate, was, as it were, broken down. The springs of her will seemed
+      worn out. She felt despondencies and wearinesses until then unknown. Work
+      tired her. She did not venture down to the offices; she talked of giving
+      up business, which was a bad sign. She longed for country air. Were they
+      not rich enough? With their simple tastes so much money was unnecessary.
+      In fact, they had no wants. They would go to some pretty estate in the
+      suburbs of Paris, live there and plant cabbages. Why work? they had no
+      children.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Michel agreed to these schemes. For a long time he had wished for repose.
+      Often he had feared that his wife&rsquo;s ambition would lead them too far. But
+      now, since she stopped of her own accord, it was all for the best.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At this juncture their solicitor informed them that, near to their works,
+      the Cernay estate was to be put up for sale. Very often, when going from
+      Jouy to the mills, Madame Desvarennes had noticed the chateau, the slate
+      roofs of the turrets of which rose gracefully from a mass of deep verdure.
+      The Count de Cernay, the last representative of a noble race, had just
+      died of consumption, brought on by reckless living, leaving nothing behind
+      him but debts and a little girl two years old. Her mother, an Italian
+      singer and his mistress, had left him one morning without troubling
+      herself about the child. Everything was to be sold, by order of the Court.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Some most lamentable incidents had saddened the Count&rsquo;s last hours. The
+      bailiffs had entered the house with the doctor when he came to pay his
+      last call, and the notices of the sale were all but posted up before the
+      funeral was over. Jeanne, the orphan, scared amid the troubles of this
+      wretched end, seeing unknown men walking into the reception-rooms with
+      their hats on, hearing strangers speaking loudly and with arrogance, had
+      taken refuge in the laundry. It was there that Madame Desvarennes found
+      her, playing, plainly dressed in a little alpaca frock, her pretty hair
+      loose and falling on her shoulders. She looked astonished at what she had
+      seen; silent, not daring to run or sing as formerly in the great desolate
+      house whence the master had just been taken away forever.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With the vague instinct of abandoned children who seek to attach
+      themselves to some one or some thing, Jeanne clung to Madame Desvarennes,
+      who, ready to protect, and longing for maternity, took the child in her
+      arms. The gardener&rsquo;s wife acted as guide during her visit over the
+      property. Madame Desvarennes questioned her. She knew nothing of the child
+      except what she had heard from the servants when they gossiped in the
+      evenings about their late master. They said Jeanne was a bastard. Of her
+      relatives they knew nothing. The Count had an aunt in England who was
+      married to a rich lord; but he had not corresponded with her lately. The
+      little one then was reduced to beggary as the estate was to be sold.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The gardener&rsquo;s wife was a good woman and was willing to keep the child
+      until the new proprietor came; but when once affairs were settled, she
+      would certainly go and make a declaration to the mayor, and take her to
+      the workhouse. Madame Desvarennes listened in silence. One word only had
+      struck her while the woman was speaking. The child was without support,
+      without ties, and abandoned like a poor lost dog. The little one was
+      pretty too; and when she fixed her large deep eyes on that improvised
+      mother, who pressed her so tenderly to her heart, she seemed to implore
+      her not to put her down, and to carry her away from the mourning that
+      troubled her mind and the isolation that froze her heart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes, very superstitious, like a woman of the people, began
+      to think that, perhaps, Providence had brought her to Cernay that day and
+      had placed the child in her path. It was perhaps a reparation which heaven
+      granted her, in giving her the little girl she so longed for. Acting
+      unhesitatingly, as she did in everything, she left her name with the
+      woman, carried Jeanne to her carriage, and took her to Paris, promising
+      herself to make inquiries to find her relatives.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A month later, the property of Cernay pleasing her, and the researches for
+      Jeanne&rsquo;s friends not proving successful, Madame Desvarennes took
+      possession of the estate and the child into the bargain.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Michel welcomed the child without enthusiasm. The little stranger was
+      indifferent to him; he would have preferred adopting a boy. The mistress
+      was delighted. Her maternal instincts, so long stifled, developed fully.
+      She made plans for the future. Her energy returned; she spoke loudly and
+      firmly. But in her appearance there was revealed an inward contentment
+      never remarked before, which made her sweeter and more benevolent. She no
+      longer spoke of retiring from business. The discouragement which had
+      seized her left her as if by magic. The house which had been so dull for
+      some months became noisy and gay. The child, like a sunbeam, had scattered
+      the clouds.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was then that the most unlooked-for phenomenon, which was so
+      considerably to influence Madame Desvarennes&rsquo;s life, occurred. At the
+      moment when the mistress seemed provided by chance with the heiress so
+      much longed for, she learned with surprise that she was about to become a
+      mother! After sixteen years of married life, this discovery was almost a
+      discomfiture. What would have been delight formerly was now a cause for
+      fear. She, almost an old woman!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was an incredible commotion in the business world when the news
+      became known. The younger branch of Desvarennes had witnessed Jeanne&rsquo;s
+      arrival with little satisfaction, and were still more gloomy when they
+      learned that the chances of their succeeding to great wealth were over.
+      Still they did not lose all hopes. At thirty-five years of age one cannot
+      always tell how these little affairs will come off. An accident was
+      possible. But none occurred; all passed off well.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes was as strong physically as she was morally, and proved
+      victorious by bringing into the world a little girl, who was named
+      Micheline in honor of her father. The mistress&rsquo;s heart was large enough to
+      hold two children; she kept the orphan she had adopted, and brought her up
+      as if she had been her very own. Still there was soon an enormous
+      difference in her manner of loving Jeanne and Micheline. This mother had
+      for the long-wished-for child an ardent, mad, passionate love like that of
+      a tigress for her cubs. She had never loved her husband. All the
+      tenderness which had accumulated in her heart blossomed, and it was like
+      spring.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This autocrat, who had never allowed contradiction, and before whom all
+      her dependents bowed either with or against the grain, was now led in her
+      turn; the bronze of her character became like wax in the little pink hands
+      of her daughter. The commanding woman bent before the little fair head.
+      There was nothing good enough for Micheline. Had the mother owned the
+      world she would have placed it at the little one&rsquo;s feet. One tear from the
+      child upset her. If on one of the most important subjects Madame
+      Desvarennes had said &ldquo;No,&rdquo; and Micheline came and said &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; the hitherto
+      resolute will became subordinate to the caprice of a child. They knew it
+      in the house and acted upon it. This manoeuvre succeeded each time,
+      although Madame Desvarennes had seen through it from the first. It
+      appeared as if the mother felt a secret joy in proving under all
+      circumstances the unbounded adoration which she felt for her daughter. She
+      often said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pretty as she is, and rich as I shall make her, what husband will be
+      worthy of Micheline? But if she believes me when it is time to choose one,
+      she will prefer a man remarkable for his intelligence, and will give him
+      her fortune as a stepping-stone to raise him as high as she chooses him to
+      go.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Inwardly she was thinking of Pierre Delarue, who had just taken honors at
+      the Polytechnic school, and who seemed to have a brilliant career before
+      him. This woman, humbly born, was proud of her origin, and sought a
+      plebeian for her son-in-law, to put into his hand a golden tool powerful
+      enough to move the world.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Micheline was ten years old when her father died. Alas, Michel was not a
+      great loss. They wore mourning for him; but they hardly noticed that he
+      was absent. His whole life had been a void. Madame Desvarennes, it is sad
+      to say, felt herself more mistress of her child when she was a widow. She
+      was jealous of Micheline&rsquo;s affections, and each kiss the child gave her
+      father seemed to the mother to be robbed from her. With this fierce
+      tenderness, she preferred solitude around this beloved being.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At this time Madame Desvarennes was really in the zenith of womanly
+      splendor. She seemed taller, her figure had straightened, vigorous and
+      powerful. Her gray hair gave her face a majestic appearance. Always
+      surrounded by a court of clients and friends, she seemed like a sovereign.
+      The fortune of the firm was not to be computed. It was said Madame
+      Desvarennes did not know how rich she was.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne and Micheline grew up amid this colossal prosperity. The one, tall,
+      brown-haired, with blue eyes changing like the sea; the other, fragile,
+      fair, with dark dreamy eyes. Jeanne, proud, capricious, and inconstant;
+      Micheline, simple, sweet, and tenacious. The brunette inherited from her
+      reckless father and her fanciful mother a violent and passionate nature;
+      the blonde was tractable and good like Michel, but resolute and firm like
+      Madame Desvarennes. These two opposite natures were congenial, Micheline
+      sincerely loving Jeanne, and Jeanne feeling the necessity of living
+      amicably with Micheline, her mother&rsquo;s idol, but inwardly enduring with
+      difficulty the inequalities which began to exhibit themselves in the
+      manner with which the intimates of the house treated the one and the
+      other. She found these flatteries wounding, and thought Madame
+      Desvarennes&rsquo;s preferences for Micheline unjust.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      All these accumulated grievances made Jeanne conceive the wish one morning
+      of leaving the house where she had been brought up, and where she now felt
+      humiliated. Pretending to long to go to England to see that rich relative
+      of her father, who, knowing her to be in a brilliant society, had taken
+      notice of her, she asked Madame Desvarennes to allow her to spend a few
+      weeks from home. She wished to try the ground in England, and see what she
+      might expect in the future from her family. Madame Desvarennes lent
+      herself to this whim, not guessing the young girl&rsquo;s real motive; and
+      Jeanne, well attended, went to her aunt&rsquo;s home in England.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes, besides, had attained the summit of her hopes, and an
+      event had just taken place which preoccupied her. Micheline, deferring to
+      her mother&rsquo;s wishes, had decided to allow herself to be betrothed to
+      Pierre Delarue, who had just lost his mother, and whose business improved
+      daily. The young girl, accustomed to treat Pierre like a brother, had
+      easily consented to accept him as her future husband.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne, who had been away for six months, had returned sobered and
+      disillusioned about her family. She had found them kind and affable, had
+      received many compliments on her beauty, which was really remarkable, but
+      had not met with any encouragement in her desires for independence. She
+      came home resolved not to leave until she married. She arrived in the Rue
+      Saint-Dominique at the moment when Pierre Delarue, thirsting with
+      ambition, was leaving his betrothed, his relatives, and gay Paris to
+      undertake engineering work on the coasts of Algeria and Tunis that would
+      raise him above his rivals. In leaving, the young man did not for a moment
+      think that Jeanne was returning from England at the same hour with trouble
+      for him in the person of a very handsome cavalier, Prince Serge Panine,
+      who had been introduced to her at a ball during the London season.
+      Mademoiselle de Cernay, availing herself of English liberty, was returning
+      escorted only by a maid in company with the Prince. The journey had been
+      delightful. The tete-a-tete travelling had pleased the young people, and
+      on leaving the train they had promised to see each other again. Official
+      balls facilitated their meeting; Serge was introduced to Madame
+      Desvarennes as being an English friend, and soon became the most assiduous
+      partner of Jeanne and Micheline. It was thus, under the most trivial
+      pretext, that the man gained admittance to the house where he was to play
+      such an important part.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER II. THE GALLEY-SLAVE OF PLEASURE
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      One morning in the month of May, 1879, a young man, elegantly attired,
+      alighted from a well-appointed carriage before the door of Madame
+      Desvarennes&rsquo;s house. The young man passed quickly before the porter in
+      uniform, decorated with a military medal, stationed near the door. The
+      visitor found himself in an anteroom which communicated with several
+      corridors. A messenger was seated in the depth of a large armchair,
+      reading the newspaper, and not even lending an inattentive ear to the
+      whispered conversation of a dozen canvassers, who were patiently awaiting
+      their turn for gaining a hearing. On seeing the young man enter by the
+      private door, the messenger rose, dropped his newspaper on the armchair,
+      hastily raised his velvet skullcap, tried to smile, and made two steps
+      forward.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good-morning, old Felix,&rdquo; said the young man, in a friendly tone to the
+      messenger. &ldquo;Is my aunt within?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Monsieur Savinien, Madame Desvarennes is in her office; but she has
+      been engaged for more than an hour with the Financial Secretary of the War
+      Department.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In uttering these words old Felix put on a mysterious and important air,
+      which denoted how serious the discussions going on in the adjoining room
+      seemed to his mind.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You see,&rdquo; continued he, showing Madame Desvarennes&rsquo;s nephew the anteroom
+      full of people, &ldquo;madame has kept all these waiting since this morning, and
+      perhaps she won&rsquo;t see them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I must see her though,&rdquo; murmured the young man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He reflected a moment, then added:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is Monsieur Marechal in?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir, certainly. If you will allow me I will announce you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is unnecessary.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And, stepping forward, he entered the office adjoining that of Madame
+      Desvarennes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Seated at a large table of black wood, covered with bundles of papers and
+      notes, a young man was working. He was thirty years of age, but appeared
+      much older. His prematurely bald forehead, and wrinkled brow, betokened a
+      life of severe struggles and privations, or a life of excesses and
+      pleasures. Still those clear and pure eyes were not those of a libertine,
+      and the straight nose solidly joined to the face was that of a searcher.
+      Whatever the cause, the man was old before his time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On hearing the door of his office open, he raised his eyes, put down his
+      pen, and was making a movement toward his visitor, when the latter
+      interrupted him quickly with these words:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t stir, Marechal, or I shall be off! I only came in until Aunt
+      Desvarennes is at liberty; but if I disturb you I will go and take a turn,
+      smoke a cigar, and come back in three quarters of an hour.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You do not disturb me, Monsieur Savinien; at least not often enough, for
+      be it said, without reproaching you, it is more than three months since we
+      have seen anything of you. There, the post is finished. I was writing the
+      last addresses.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And taking a heavy bundle of papers off the desk, Marechal showed them to
+      Savinien.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gracious! It seems that business is going on well here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Better and better.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are making mountains of flour.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; high as Mont Blanc; and then, we now have a fleet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What! a fleet?&rdquo; cried Savinien, whose face expressed doubt and surprise
+      at the same time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, a steam fleet. Last year Madame Desvarennes was not satisfied with
+      the state in which her corn came from the East. The corn was damaged owing
+      to defective stowage; the firm claimed compensation from the steamship
+      company. The claim was only moderately satisfied, Madame Desvarennes got
+      vexed, and now we import our own. We have branches at Smyrna and Odessa.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is fabulous! If it goes on, my aunt will have an administration as
+      important as that of a European state. Oh! you are happy here, you people;
+      you are busy. I amuse myself! And if you knew how it wearies me! I am
+      withering, consuming myself, I am longing for business.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And saying these words, young Monsieur Desvarennes allowed a sorrowful
+      moan to escape him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It seems to me,&rdquo; said Marechal, &ldquo;that it only depends upon yourself to do
+      as much and more business than any one?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You know well enough that it is not so,&rdquo; sighed Savinien; &ldquo;my aunt is
+      opposed to it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What a mistake!&rdquo; cried Marechal, quickly. &ldquo;I have heard Madame
+      Desvarennes say more than twenty times how she regretted your being
+      unemployed. Come into the firm, you will have a good berth in the
+      counting-house.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In the counting-house!&rdquo; cried Savinien, bitterly; &ldquo;there&rsquo;s the sore
+      point. Now look here; my friend, do you think that an organization like
+      mine is made to bend to the trivialities of a copying clerk&rsquo;s work? To
+      follow the humdrum of every-day routine? To blacken paper? To become a
+      servant?&mdash;me! with what I have in my brain?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And, rising abruptly, Savinien began to walk hurriedly up and down the
+      room, disdainfully shaking his little head with its low forehead on which
+      were plastered a few fair curls (made with curling-irons), with the
+      indignant air of an Atlas carrying the world on his shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I know very well what is at the bottom of the business&mdash;my aunt
+      is jealous of me because I am a man of ideas. She wishes to be the only
+      one of the family who possesses any. She thinks of binding me down to a
+      besotting work,&rdquo; continued he, &ldquo;but I won&rsquo;t have it. I know what I want!
+      It is independence of thought, bent on the solution of great problems&mdash;that
+      is, a wide field to apply my discoveries. But a fixed rule, common law, I
+      could not submit to it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is like the examinations,&rdquo; observed Marechal, looking slyly at young
+      Desvarennes, who was drawing himself up to his full height; &ldquo;examinations
+      never suited you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never,&rdquo; said Savinien, energetically. &ldquo;They wished to get me into the
+      Polytechnic School; impossible! Then the Central School; no better. I
+      astonished the examiners by the novelty of my ideas. They refused me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, you know,&rdquo; retorted Marechal, &ldquo;if you began by overthrowing their
+      theories&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That&rsquo;s it!&rdquo; cried Savinien, triumphantly. &ldquo;My mind is stronger than I; I
+      must let my imagination have free run, and no one will ever know what that
+      particular turn of mind has cost me. Even my family do not think me
+      serious. Aunt Desvarennes has forbidden any kind of enterprise, under
+      pretence that I bear her name, and that I might compromise it because I
+      have twice failed. My aunt paid, it is true. Do you think it is generous
+      of her to take advantage of my situation, and prohibit my trying to
+      succeed? Are inventors judged by three or four failures? If my aunt had
+      allowed me I should have astonished the world.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She feared, above all,&rdquo; said Marechal, simply, &ldquo;to see you astonishing
+      the Tribunal of Commerce.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh! you, too,&rdquo; moaned Savinien, &ldquo;are in league with my enemies; you make
+      no account of me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And young Desvarennes sank as if crushed into an armchair and began to
+      lament. He was very unhappy at being misunderstood. His aunt allowed him
+      three thousand francs a month on condition that he would not make use of
+      his ten fingers. Was it moral? Then he with such exuberant vigor had to
+      waste it on pleasure and seeing life to the utmost. He passed his time in
+      theatres, at clubs, restaurants, in boudoirs. He lost his time, his money,
+      his hair, his illusions. He bemoaned his lot, but continued, only to have
+      something to do. With grim sarcasm he called himself the galley-slave of
+      pleasure. And notwithstanding all these consuming excesses, he asserted
+      that he could not render his imagination barren. Amid the greatest follies
+      at suppers, during the clinking of glasses; in the excitement of the
+      dance-inspirations came to him in flashes, he made prodigious discoveries.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And as Marechal ventured a timid &ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; tinged with incredulity, Savinien
+      flew into a passion. Yes; he had invented something astonishing; he saw
+      fortune within reach, and he thought the bargain made with his aunt very
+      unjust. Therefore he had come to break it, and to regain his liberty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Marechal looked at the young man while he was explaining with animation
+      his ambitious projects. He scrutinized that flat forehead within which the
+      dandy asserted so many good ideas were hidden. He measured that slim form
+      bent by wild living, and asked himself how that degenerate being could
+      struggle against the difficulties of business. A smile played on his lips.
+      He knew Savinien too well not to be aware that he was a prey to one of
+      those attacks of melancholy which seized on him when his funds were low.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On these occasions, which occurred frequently, the young man had longings
+      for business, which Madame Desvarennes stopped by asking: &ldquo;How much?&rdquo;
+       Savinien allowed himself to be with difficulty induced to consent to
+      renounce the certain profits promised, as he said, by his projected
+      enterprise. At last he would capitulate, and with his pocket well lined,
+      nimble and joyful, he returned to his boudoirs, race-courses, fashionable
+      restaurants, and became more than ever the galley-slave of pleasure.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And Pierre?&rdquo; asked young Desvarennes, suddenly and quickly changing the
+      subject. &ldquo;Have you any news of him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Marechal became serious. A cloud seemed to have come across his brow; he
+      gravely answered Savinien&rsquo;s question.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pierre was still in the East. He was travelling toward Tunis, the coast of
+      which he was exploring. It was a question of the formation of an inland
+      sea by taking the water through the desert. It would be a colossal
+      undertaking, the results of which would be considerable as regarded
+      Algeria. The climate would be completely changed, and the value of the
+      colony would be increased tenfold, because it would become the most
+      fertile country in the world. Pierre had been occupied in this undertaking
+      for more than a year with unequalled ardor; he was far from his home, his
+      betrothed, seeing only the goal to be attained; turning a deaf ear to all
+      that would distract his attention from the great work, to the success of
+      which he hoped to contribute gloriously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And don&rsquo;t people say,&rdquo; resumed Savinien with an evil smile, &ldquo;that during
+      his absence a dashing young fellow is busy luring his betrothed away from
+      him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At these words Marechal made a quick movement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is false,&rdquo; he interrupted; &ldquo;and I do not understand how you, Monsieur
+      Desvarennes, should be the bearer of such a tale. To admit that
+      Mademoiselle Micheline could break her word or her engagements is to
+      slander her, and if any one other than you&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There, there, my dear friend,&rdquo; said Savinien, laughing, &ldquo;don&rsquo;t get into a
+      rage. What I say to you I would not repeat to the first comer; besides, I
+      am only the echo of a rumor that has been going the round during the last
+      three weeks. They even give the name of him who has been chosen for the
+      honor and pleasure of such a brilliant conquest. I mean Prince Serge
+      Panine.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As you have mentioned Prince Panine,&rdquo; replied Marechal, &ldquo;allow me to tell
+      you that he has not put his foot inside Madame Desvarennes&rsquo;s door for
+      three weeks. This is not the way of a man about to marry the daughter of
+      the house.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear fellow, I only repeat what I have heard. As for me, I don&rsquo;t know
+      any more. I have kept out of the way for more than three months. And
+      besides, it matters little to me whether Micheline be a commoner or a
+      princess, the wife of Delarue or of Panine. I shall be none the richer or
+      the poorer, shall I? Therefore I need not care. The dear child will
+      certainly have millions enough to marry easily. And her adopted sister,
+      the stately Mademoiselle Jeanne, what has become of her?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! as to Mademoiselle de Cernay, that is another affair,&rdquo; cried
+      Marechal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And as if wishing to divert the conversation in an opposite direction to
+      which Savinien had led it a moment before, he spoke readily of Madame
+      Desvarennes&rsquo;s adopted daughter. She had made a lively impression on one of
+      the intimate friends of the house&mdash;the banker Cayrol, who had offered
+      his name and his fortune to the fair Jeanne.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This was a cause of deep amazement to Savinien. What! Cayrol! The shrewd
+      close&mdash;fisted Auvergnat! A girl without a fortune! Cayrol Silex as he
+      was called in the commercial world on account of his hardness. This living
+      money-bag had a heart then! It was necessary to believe it since both
+      money-bag and heart had been placed at Mademoiselle de Cernay&rsquo;s feet. This
+      strange girl was certainly destined to millions. She had just missed being
+      Madame Desvarennes&rsquo;s heiress, and now Cayrol had taken it into his head to
+      marry her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But that was not all. And when Marechal told Savinien that the fair Jeanne
+      flatly refused to become the wife of Cayrol, there was an outburst of
+      joyful exclamations. She refused! By Jove, she was mad! An unlooked-for
+      marriage&mdash;for she had not a penny, and had most extravagant notions.
+      She had been brought up as if she were to live always in velvet and silks&mdash;to
+      loll in carriages and think only of her pleasure. What reason did she give
+      for refusing him! None. Haughtily and disdainfully she had declared that
+      she did not love &ldquo;that man,&rdquo; and that she would not marry him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Savinien heard these details his rapture increased. One thing
+      especially charmed him: Jeanne&rsquo;s saying &ldquo;that man,&rdquo; when speaking of
+      Cayrol. A little girl who was called &ldquo;De Cernay&rdquo; just as he might call
+      himself &ldquo;Des Batignolles&rdquo; if he pleased: the natural and unacknowledged
+      daughter of a Count and of a shady public singer! And she refused Cayrol,
+      calling him &ldquo;that man.&rdquo; It was really funny. And what did worthy Cayrol
+      say about it?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Marechal declared that the banker had not been damped by this
+      discouraging reception, Savinien said it was human nature. The fair Jeanne
+      scorned Cayrol and Cayrol adored her. He had often seen those things
+      happen. He knew the baggages so well! Nobody knew more of women than he
+      did. He had known some more difficult to manage than proud Mademoiselle
+      Jeanne.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      An old leaven of hatred had festered in Savinien&rsquo;s heart against Jeanne
+      since the time when the younger branch of the Desvarennes had reason to
+      fear that the superb heritage was going to the adopted daughter. Savinien
+      had lost the fear, but had kept up the animosity. And everything that
+      could happen to Jeanne of a vexing or painful nature would be witnessed by
+      him with pleasure.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was about to encourage Marechal to continue his revelations, and had
+      risen and was leaning on the desk. With his face excited and eager, he was
+      preparing his question, when, through the door which led to Madame
+      Desvarennes&rsquo;s office, a confused murmur of voices was heard. At the same
+      time the door was half opened, held by a woman&rsquo;s hand, square, with short
+      fingers, a firm-willed and energetic hand. At the same time, the last
+      words exchanged between Madame Desvarennes and the Financial Secretary of
+      the War Office were distinctly audible. Madame Desvarennes was speaking,
+      and her voice sounded clear and plain; a little raised and vibrating.
+      There seemed a shade of anger in its tone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear sir, you will tell the Minister that does not suit me. It is not
+      the custom of the house. For thirty-five years I have conducted business
+      thus, and I have always found it answer. I wish you good-morning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The door of the office facing that which Madame Desvarennes held closed,
+      and a light step glided along the corridor. It was the Financial
+      Secretary&rsquo;s. The mistress appeared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Marechal rose hastily. As to Savinien, all his resolution seemed to have
+      vanished at the sound of his aunt&rsquo;s voice, for he had rapidly gained a
+      corner of the room, and seated himself on a leather-covered sofa, hidden
+      behind an armchair, where he remained perfectly quiet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you understand that, Marechal?&rdquo; said dame Desvarennes; &ldquo;they want to
+      place a resident agent at the mill on pretext of checking things. They say
+      that all military contractors are obliged to submit to it. My word, do
+      they take us for thieves, the rascals? It is the first time that people
+      have seemed to doubt me. And it has enraged me. I have been arguing for a
+      whole hour with the man they sent me. I said to him, &lsquo;My dear sir, you may
+      either take it or leave it. Let us start from this point: I can do without
+      you and you cannot do without me. If you don&rsquo;t buy my flour, somebody else
+      will. I am not at all troubled about it. But as to having any one here who
+      would be as much master as myself, or perhaps more, never! I am too old to
+      change my customs.&rsquo; Thereupon the Financial Secretary left. There! And,
+      besides, they change their Ministry every fortnight. One would never know
+      with whom one had to deal. Thank you, no.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      While talking thus with Marechal, Madame Desvarennes was walking about the
+      office. She was still the same woman with the broad prominent forehead.
+      Her hair, which she wore in smooth plaits, had become gray, but the
+      sparkle of her dark eyes only seemed the brighter from this. She had
+      preserved her splendid teeth, and her smile had remained young and
+      charming. She spoke with animation, as usual, and with the gestures of a
+      man. She placed herself before her secretary, seeming to appeal to him as
+      a witness of her being in the right. During the hour with the official
+      personage she had been obliged to contain herself. She unburdened herself
+      to Marechal, saying just what she thought.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But all at once she perceived Savinien, who was waiting to show himself
+      now that she had finished. The mistress turned sharply to the young man,
+      and frowned slightly:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hallo! you are there, eh? How is it that you could leave your fair
+      friends?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, aunt, I came to pay you my respects.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No nonsense now; I&rsquo;ve no time,&rdquo; interrupted the mistress. &ldquo;What do you
+      want?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Savinien, disconcerted by this rude reception, blinked his eyes, as if
+      seeking some form to give his request; then, making up his mind, he said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I came to see you on business.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You on business?&rdquo; replied Madame Desvarennes, with a shade of
+      astonishment and irony.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, aunt, on business,&rdquo; declared Savinien, looking down as if he
+      expected a rebuff.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, oh, oh!&rdquo; said Madame Desvarennes, &ldquo;you know our agreement; I give you
+      an allowance&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I renounce my income,&rdquo; interrupted Savinien, quickly, &ldquo;I wish to take
+      back my independence. The transfer I made has already cost me too dear.
+      It&rsquo;s a fool&rsquo;s bargain. The enterprise which I am going to launch is
+      superb, and must realize immense profits. I shall certainly not abandon
+      it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      While speaking, Savinien had become animated and had regained his
+      self-possession. He believed in his scheme, and was ready to pledge his
+      future. He argued that his aunt could not blame him for giving proof of
+      his energy and daring, and he discoursed in bombastic style.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That&rsquo;s enough!&rdquo; cried Madame Desvarennes, interrupting her nephew&rsquo;s
+      oration. &ldquo;I am very fond of mills, but not word-mills. You are talking too
+      much about it to be sincere. So many words can only serve to disguise the
+      nullity of your projects. You want to embark in speculation? With what
+      money?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I contribute the scheme and some capitalists will advance the money to
+      start with; we shall then issue shares!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never in this life! I oppose it. You! With a responsibility. You!
+      Directing an undertaking. You would only commit absurdities. In fact, you
+      want to sell an idea, eh? Well, I will buy it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is not only the money I want,&rdquo; said Savinien, with an indignant air,
+      &ldquo;it is confidence in my ideas, it is enthusiasm on the part of my
+      shareholders, it is success. You don&rsquo;t believe in my ideas, aunt!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What does it matter to you, if I buy them from you? It seems to me a
+      pretty good proof of confidence. Is that settled?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, aunt, you are implacable!&rdquo; groaned Savinien. &ldquo;When you have laid your
+      hand upon any one, it is all over. Adieu, independence; one must obey you.
+      Nevertheless, it was a vast and beautiful conception.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well. Marechal, see that my nephew has ten thousand francs. And you,
+      Savinien, remember that I see no more of you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Until the money is spent!&rdquo; murmured Marechal, in the ear of Madame
+      Desvarennes&rsquo;s nephew.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And taking him by the arm he was leading him toward the safe when the
+      mistress turned to Savinien and said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By the way, what is your invention?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aunt, it is a threshing machine,&rdquo; answered the young man, gravely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Rather a machine for coining money,&rdquo; said the incorrigible Marechal, in
+      an undertone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well; bring me your plans,&rdquo; resumed Madame Desvarennes, after having
+      reflected a moment. &ldquo;Perchance you may have hit upon something.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The mistress had been generous, and now the woman of business reasserted
+      herself and she thought of reaping the benefit.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Savinien seemed very confused at this demand, and as his aunt gave him an
+      interrogative look, he confessed:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There are no drawings made as yet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No drawings as yet?&rdquo; cried the mistress. &ldquo;Where then is your invention?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is here,&rdquo; replied Savinien, and with an inspired gesture he struck his
+      narrow forehead.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes and Marechal could not resist breaking out into a
+      laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you were already talking of issuing shares?&rdquo; said the mistress. &ldquo;Do
+      you think people would have paid their money with your brain as sole
+      guarantee? You! Get along; I am the only one to make bargains like that,
+      and you are the only one with whom I make them. Go, Marechal, give him his
+      money; I won&rsquo;t gainsay it. But you are a trickster, as usual!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER III. PIERRE RETURNS
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      By a wave of her hand she dismissed Savinien, who, abashed, went out with
+      Marechal. Left alone, she seated herself at her secretary&rsquo;s desk, and
+      taking the pile of letters she signed them. The pen flew in her fingers,
+      and on the paper was displayed her name, written in large letters in a
+      man&rsquo;s handwriting.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She had been occupied thus for about a quarter of an hour when Marechal
+      reappeared. Behind him came a stout thickset man of heavy build, and
+      gorgeously dressed. His face, surrounded by a bristly dark brown beard,
+      and his eyes overhung by bushy eyebrows, gave him, at the first glance, a
+      harsh appearance. But his mouth promptly banished this impression. His
+      thick and sensual lips betrayed voluptuous tastes. A disciple of Lavater
+      or Gall would have found the bump of amativeness largely developed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Marechal stepped aside to allow him to pass.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good-morning, mistress,&rdquo; said he familiarly, approaching Madame
+      Desvarennes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The mistress raised her head quickly, and said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! it&rsquo;s you, Cayrol! That&rsquo;s capital! I was just going to send for you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jean Cayrol, a native of Cantal, had been brought up amid the wild
+      mountains of Auvergne. His father was a small farmer in the neighborhood
+      of Saint-Flour, scraping a miserable pittance from the ground for the
+      maintenance of his family. From the age of eight years Cayrol had been a
+      shepherd-boy. Alone in the quiet and remote country, the child had given
+      way to ambitious dreams. He was very intelligent, and felt that he was
+      born to another sphere than that of farming.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thus, at the first opportunity which had occurred to take him into a town,
+      he was found ready. He went as servant to a banker at Brioude. There, in
+      the service of this comparatively luxurious house, he got smoothed down a
+      little, and lost some of his clumsy loutishness. Strong as an ox, he did
+      the work of two men, and at night, when in his garret, fell asleep
+      learning to read. He was seized by the ambition to get on. No pains were
+      to be spared to gain his goal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His master having been elected a member of the Chamber of Deputies, Cayrol
+      accompanied him to Paris. Life in the capital finished the turmoil of
+      Cayrol&rsquo;s brain. Seeing the prodigious activity of the great city on whose
+      pavements fortunes sprang up in a day like mushrooms, the Auvergnat felt
+      his moral strength equal to the occasion, and leaving his master, he
+      became clerk to a merchant in the Rue du Sentier.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There, for four years, he studied commerce, and gained much experience. He
+      soon learned that it was only in financial transactions that large
+      fortunes were to be rapidly made. He left the Rue du Sentier, and found a
+      place at a stock-broker&rsquo;s. His keen scent for speculation served him
+      admirably. After the lapse of a few years he had charge of the business.
+      His position was getting better; he was making fifteen thousand francs per
+      annum, but that was nothing compared to his dreams. He was then
+      twenty-eight years of age. He felt ready to do anything to succeed, except
+      something unhandsome, for this lover of money would have died rather than
+      enrich himself by dishonest means.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was at this time that his lucky star threw him in Madame Desvarennes&rsquo;s
+      way. The mistress, understanding men, guessed Cayrol&rsquo;s worth quickly. She
+      was seeking a banker who would devote himself to her interests. She
+      watched the young man narrowly for some time; then, sure she was not
+      mistaken as to his capacity, she bluntly proposed to give him money to
+      start a business. Cayrol, who had already saved eighty thousand francs,
+      received twelve hundred thousand from Madame Desvarennes, and settled in
+      the Rue Taitbout, two steps from the house of Rothschild.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes had made a lucky hit in choosing Cayrol as her
+      confidential agent. This short, thickset Auvergnat was a master of
+      finance, and in a few years had raised the house to an unexpected degree
+      of prosperity. Madame Desvarennes had drawn considerable sums as interest
+      on the money lent, and the banker&rsquo;s fortune was already estimated at
+      several millions. Was it the happy influence of Madame Desvarennes that
+      changed everything she touched into gold, or were Cayrol&rsquo;s capacities
+      really extraordinary? The results were there and that was sufficient. They
+      did not trouble themselves over and above that.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The banker had naturally become one of the intimates of Madame
+      Desvarennes&rsquo;s house. For a long time he saw Jeanne without particularly
+      noticing her. This young girl had not struck his fancy. It was one night
+      at a ball, on seeing her dancing with Prince Panine, that he perceived
+      that she was marvellously engaging. His eyes were attracted by an
+      invincible power and followed her graceful figure whirling through the
+      waltz. He secretly envied the brilliant cavalier who was holding this
+      adorable creature in his arms, who was bending over her bare shoulders,
+      and whose breath lightly touched her hair. He longed madly for Jeanne, and
+      from that moment thought only of her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince was then very friendly with Mademoiselle de Cernay; he
+      overwhelmed her with kind attentions. Cayrol watched him to see if he
+      spoke to her of love, but Panine was a past master in these drawing-room
+      skirmishes, and the banker got nothing for his pains. That Cayrol was
+      tenacious has been proved. He became intimate with the Prince. He tendered
+      him such little services as create intimacy, and when he was sure of not
+      being repulsed with haughtiness, he questioned Serge. Did he love
+      Mademoiselle de Cernay? This question, asked in a trembling voice and with
+      a constrained smile, found the Prince quite calm. He answered lightly that
+      Mademoiselle de Cernay was a very agreeable partner, but that he had never
+      dreamed of offering her his homage. He had other projects in his head.
+      Cayrol pressed the Prince&rsquo;s hand violently, made a thousand protestations
+      of devotedness, and finally obtained his complete confidence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge loved Mademoiselle Desvarennes, and it was to become intimate with
+      her that he had so eagerly sought her friend&rsquo;s company. Cayrol, in
+      learning the Prince&rsquo;s secret, resumed his usual reserved manner. He knew
+      that Micheline was engaged to Pierre Delarue, but still, women were so
+      whimsical! Who could tell? Perhaps Mademoiselle Desvarennes had looked
+      favorably upon the handsome Serge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was really admirable to view, this Panine, with his blue eyes, pure as
+      a maiden&rsquo;s, and his long fair mustache falling on each side of his rosy
+      mouth. He had a truly royal bearing, and was descended from an ancient
+      aristocratic race; he had a charming hand and an arched foot, enough to
+      make a woman envious. Soft and insinuating with his tender voice and sweet
+      Sclavonic accent, he was no ordinary man, but one usually creating a great
+      impression wherever he went.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His story was well known in Paris. He was born in the province of Posen,
+      so violently seized on by Prussia, that octopus of Europe. Serge&rsquo;s father
+      had been killed during the insurrection of 1848, and he, when a year old,
+      was brought by his uncle, Thaddeus Panine, to France, and was educated at
+      the College Rollin, where he had not acquired over much learning.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In 1866, at the moment when war broke out between Prussia and Austria,
+      Serge was eighteen years old. By his uncle&rsquo;s orders he had left Paris, and
+      had entered himself for the campaign in an Austrian cavalry regiment. All
+      who bore the name of Panine, and had strength to hold a sword or carry a
+      gun, had risen to fight the oppressor of Poland. Serge, during this short
+      and bloody struggle, showed prodigies of valor. On the night of Sadowa,
+      out of seven bearing the name of Panine, who had served against Prussia,
+      five were dead, one was wounded; Serge alone was untouched, though red
+      with the blood of his uncle Thaddeus, who was killed by the bursting of a
+      shell. All these Panines, living or dead, had gained honors. When they
+      were spoken of before Austrians or Poles, they were called heroes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Such a man was a dangerous companion for a young, simple, and artless girl
+      like Micheline. His adventures were bound to please her imagination, and
+      his beauty sure to charm her eyes. Cayrol was a prudent man; he watched,
+      and it was not long before he perceived that Micheline treated the Prince
+      with marked favor. The quiet young girl became animated when Serge was
+      there. Was there love in this transformation? Cayrol did not hesitate. He
+      guessed at once that the future would be Panine&rsquo;s, and that the
+      maintenance of his own influence in the house of Desvarennes depended on
+      the attitude which he was about to take. He passed over to the side of the
+      newcomer with arms and baggage, and placed himself entirely at his
+      disposal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was he who three weeks before, in the name of Panine, had made
+      overtures to Madame Desvarennes. The errand had been difficult, and the
+      banker had turned his tongue several times in his mouth before speaking.
+      Still, Cayrol could overcome all difficulties. He was able to explain the
+      object of his mission without Madame flying into a passion. But, the
+      explanation over, there was a terrible scene. He witnessed one of the most
+      awful bursts of rage that it was possible to expect from a violent woman.
+      The mistress treated the friend of the family as one would not have dared
+      to treat a petty commercial traveller who came to a private house to offer
+      his wares. She showed him the door, and desired him not to darken the
+      threshold again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But if Cayrol was resolute he was equally patient. He listened without
+      saying a word to the reproaches of Madame Desvarennes, who was exasperated
+      that a candidate should be set up in opposition to the son-in-law of her
+      choosing. He did not go, and when Madame Desvarennes was a little calmed
+      by the letting out of her indignation, he argued with her. The mistress
+      was too hasty about the business; it was no use deciding without
+      reflecting. Certainly, nobody esteemed Pierre Delarue more than he did;
+      but it was necessary to know whether Micheline loved him. A childish
+      affection was not love, and Prince Panine thought he might hope that
+      Mademoiselle Desvarennes&mdash;&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The mistress did not allow Cayrol to finish his sentence; she rang the
+      bell and asked for her daughter. This time, Cayrol prudently took the
+      opportunity of disappearing. He had opened fire; it was for Micheline to
+      decide the result of the battle. The banker awaited the issue of the
+      interview between mother and daughter in the next room. Through the door
+      he heard the irritated tones of Madame Desvarennes, to which Micheline
+      answered softly and slowly. The mother threatened and stormed. Coldly and
+      quietly the daughter received the attack. The tussle lasted about an hour,
+      when the door reopened and Madame Desvarennes appeared, pale and still
+      trembling, but calmed. Micheline, wiping her beautiful eyes, still wet
+      with tears, regained her apartment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; said Cayrol timidly, seeing the mistress standing silent and
+      absorbed before him; &ldquo;I see with pleasure that you are less agitated. Did
+      Mademoiselle Micheline give you good reasons?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good reasons!&rdquo; cried Madame Desvarennes with a violent gesture, last
+      flash of the late storm. &ldquo;She cried, that&rsquo;s all. And you know when she
+      cries I no longer know what I do or say! She breaks my heart with her
+      tears. And she knows it. Ah! it is a great misfortune to love children too
+      much!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This energetic woman was conquered, and yet understood that she was wrong
+      to allow herself to be conquered. She fell into a deep reverie, and forgot
+      that Cayrol was present. She thought of the future which she had planned
+      for Micheline, and which the latter carelessly destroyed in an instant.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pierre, now an orphan, would have been a real son to the mistress. He
+      would have lived in her house, and have surrounded her old age with care
+      and affection. And then, he was so full of ability that he could not help
+      attaining a brilliant position. She would have helped him, and would have
+      rejoiced in his success. And all this scaffolding was overturned because
+      this Panine had crossed Micheline&rsquo;s path. A foreign adventurer, prince
+      perhaps, but who could tell? Lies are easily told when the proofs of the
+      lie have to be sought beyond the frontiers. And it was her daughter who
+      was going to fall in love with an insipid fop who only coveted her
+      millions. That she should see such a man enter her family, steal
+      Micheline&rsquo;s love from her, and rummage her strongbox! In a moment she
+      vowed mortal hatred against Panine, and resolved to do all she could to
+      prevent the longed-for marriage with her daughter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She was disturbed in her meditation by Cayrol&rsquo;s voice. He wished to take
+      an answer to the Prince. What must he say to him?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will let him know,&rdquo; said Madame Desvarennes, &ldquo;that he must refrain
+      from seeking opportunities of meeting my daughter. If he be a gentleman,
+      he will understand that his presence, even in Paris, is disagreeable to
+      me. I ask him to go away for three weeks. After that time he may come
+      back, and I agree to give him an answer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You promise me that you will not be vexed with me for having undertaken
+      this errand?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I promise on one condition. It is, that not a word which has passed here
+      this morning shall be repeated to any one. Nobody must suspect the
+      proposal that you have just made to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cayrol swore to hold his tongue, and he kept his word. Prince Panine left
+      that same night for England.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes was a woman of quick resolution. She took a sheet of
+      paper, a pen, and in her large handwriting wrote the following lines
+      addressed to Pierre:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you do not wish to find Micheline married on your return, come back
+      without a moment&rsquo;s delay.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She sent this ominous letter to the young man, who was then in Tripoli.
+      That done, she returned to her business as if nothing had happened. Her
+      placid face did not once betray the anguish of her heart during those
+      three weeks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The term fixed by Madame Desvarennes with the Prince had expired that
+      morning. And the severity with which the mistress had received the
+      Minister of War&rsquo;s Financial Secretary was a symptom of the agitation in
+      which the necessity of coming to a decision placed Micheline&rsquo;s mother.
+      Every morning for the last week she had expected Pierre to arrive. What
+      with having to give an answer to the Prince as she had promised, and the
+      longing to see him whom she loved as a son, she felt sick at heart and
+      utterly cast down. She thought of asking the Prince for a respite. It was
+      for that reason she was glad to see Cayrol.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The latter, therefore, had arrived opportunely. He looked as if he brought
+      startling news. By a glance he drew Madame Desvarennes&rsquo;s attention to
+      Marechal and seemed to say:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I must be alone with you; send him away.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The mistress understood, and with a decided gesture said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You can speak before Marechal; he knows all my affairs as well as I do
+      myself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Even the matter that brings me here?&rdquo; replied Cayrol, with surprise.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Even that. It was necessary for me to have some one to whom I could
+      speak, or else my heart would have burst! Come, do your errand. The
+      Prince?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A lot it has to do with the Prince,&rdquo; exclaimed Cayrol, in a huff. &ldquo;Pierre
+      has arrived!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes rose abruptly. A rush of blood rose to her face, her
+      eyes brightened, and her lips opened with a smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At last!&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;But where is he? How did you hear of his return?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! faith, it was just by chance. I was shooting yesterday at
+      Fontainebleau, and I returned this morning by the express. On arriving at
+      Paris, I alighted on the platform, and there I found myself face to face
+      with a tall young man with a long beard, who, seeing me pass, called out,
+      &lsquo;Ah, Cayrol!&rsquo; It was Pierre. I only recognized him by his voice. He is
+      much changed; with his beard, and his complexion bronzed like an African.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What did he say to you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing. He pressed my hand. He looked at me for a moment with glistening
+      eyes. There was something on his lips which he longed to ask, yet did not;
+      but I guessed it. I was afraid of giving way to tenderness, that might
+      have ended in my saying something foolish, so I left him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How long ago is that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;About an hour ago. I only just ran home before coming on here. There I
+      found Panine waiting for me. He insisted upon accompanying me. I hope you
+      won&rsquo;t blame him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes frowned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will not see him just now,&rdquo; she said, looking at Cayrol with a resolute
+      air. &ldquo;Where did you leave him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In the garden, where I found the young ladies.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As if to verify the banker&rsquo;s words, a merry peal of laughter was heard
+      through the half-open window. It was Micheline, who, with returning
+      gayety, was making up for the three weeks&rsquo; sadness she had experienced
+      during Panine&rsquo;s absence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes went to the window, and looked into the garden. Seated
+      on the lawn, in large bamboo chairs, the young girls were listening to a
+      story the Prince was telling. The morning was bright and mild; the sun
+      shining through Micheline&rsquo;s silk sunshade lit up her fair head. Before
+      her, Serge, bending his tall figure, was speaking with animation.
+      Micheline&rsquo;s eyes were softly fixed on him. Reclining in her armchair, she
+      allowed herself to be carried away with his conversation, and thoroughly
+      enjoyed his society, of which she had been deprived for the last three
+      weeks. Beside her, Jeanne, silently watching the Prince, was mechanically
+      nibbling, with her white teeth, a bunch of carnations which she held in
+      her hands. A painful thought contracted Mademoiselle de Cernay&rsquo;s brow, and
+      her pale lips on the red flowers seemed to be drinking blood.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The mistress slowly turned away from this scene. A shadow had crossed her
+      brow, which had, for a moment, become serene again at the announcement of
+      Pierre&rsquo;s arrival. She remained silent for a little while, as if
+      considering; then coming to a resolution, and turning to Cayrol, she said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where is Pierre staying?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At the Hotel du Louvre,&rdquo; replied the banker.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I&rsquo;m going there.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes rang the bell violently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My bonnet, my cloak, and the carriage,&rdquo; she said, and with a friendly nod
+      to the two men, she went out quickly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Micheline was still laughing in the garden. Marechal and Cayrol looked at
+      each other. Cayrol was the first to speak.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The mistress told you all about the matter then? How is it you never
+      spoke to me about it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Should I have been worthy of Madame Desvarennes&rsquo;s confidence had I spoken
+      of what she wished to keep secret?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Especially to you. The attitude which you have taken forbade my speaking.
+      You favor Prince Panine?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you; you are on Pierre Delarue&rsquo;s side?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I take no side. I am only a subordinate, you know; I do not count.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do not attempt to deceive me. Your influence over the mistress is great.
+      The confidence she has in you is a conclusive proof. Important events are
+      about to take place here. Pierre has certainly returned to claim his right
+      as betrothed, and Mademoiselle Micheline loves Prince Serge. Out of this a
+      serious conflict will take place in the house. There will be a battle. And
+      as the parties in question are about equal in strength, I am seeking
+      adherents for my candidate. I own, in all humility, I am on love&rsquo;s side.
+      The Prince is beloved by Mademoiselle Desvarennes, and I serve him.
+      Micheline will be grateful, and will do me a turn with Mademoiselle de
+      Cernay. As to you, let me give you a little advice. If Madame Desvarennes
+      consults you, speak well of Panine. When the Prince is master here, your
+      position will be all the better for it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Marechal had listened to Cayrol without anything betraying the impression
+      his words created. He looked at the banker in a peculiar manner, which
+      caused him to feel uncomfortable, and made him lower his eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps you do not know, Monsieur Cayrol,&rdquo; said the secretary, after a
+      moment&rsquo;s pause, &ldquo;how I entered this firm. It is as well in that case to
+      inform you. Four years ago, I was most wretched. After having sought
+      fortune ten times without success, I felt myself giving way morally and
+      physically. There are some beings gifted with energy, who can surmount all
+      the difficulties of life. You are one of those. As for me, the struggle
+      exhausted my strength, and I came to grief. It would take too long to
+      enumerate all the ways of earning my living I tried. Few even fed me; and
+      I was thinking of putting an end to my miserable existence when I met
+      Pierre. We had been at college together. I went toward him; he was on the
+      quay. I dared to stop him. At first he did not recognize me, I was so
+      haggard, so wretched-looking! But when I spoke, he cried, &lsquo;Marechal!&rsquo; and,
+      without blushing at my tatters, put his arms round my neck. We were
+      opposite the Belle Jardiniere, the clothiers; he wanted to rig me out. I
+      remember as if it were but yesterday I said, &lsquo;No, nothing, only find me
+      work!&rsquo;&mdash;&lsquo;Work, my poor fellow,&rsquo; he answered, &lsquo;but just look at
+      yourself; who would have confidence to give you any? You look like a
+      tramp, and when you accosted me a little while ago, I asked myself if you
+      were not about to steal my watch!&rsquo; And he laughed gayly, happy at having
+      found me again, and thinking that he might be of use to me. Seeing that I
+      would not go into the shop, he took off his overcoat, and put it on my
+      back to cover my tattered clothes, and there and then he took me to Madame
+      Desvarennes. Two days later I entered the office. You see the position I
+      hold, and I owe it to Pierre. He has been more than a friend to me&mdash;a
+      brother. Come! after that, tell me what you would think of me if I did
+      what you have just asked me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cayrol was confused; he twisted his bristly beard with his fingers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Faith, I do not say that your scruples are not right; but, between
+      ourselves, every step that is taken against the Prince will count for
+      naught. He will marry Mademoiselle Desvarennes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is possible. In that case, I shall be here to console Pierre and
+      sympathize with him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And in the mean time you are going to do all you can in his favor?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have already had the honor of telling you that I cannot do anything.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, well. One knows what talking means, and you will not change my idea
+      of your importance. You take the weaker side then; that&rsquo;s superb!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is but strictly honest,&rdquo; said Marechal. &ldquo;It is true that that quality
+      has become very rare!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cayrol wheeled round on his heels. He took a few steps toward the door,
+      then, returning to Marechal, held out his hand:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Without a grudge, eh?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The secretary allowed his hand to be shaken without answering, and the
+      banker went out, saying to himself:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is without a sou and has prejudices! There&rsquo;s a lad without a future.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER IV. THE RIVALS
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      On reaching Paris, Pierre Delarue experienced a strange feeling. In his
+      feverish haste he longed for the swiftness of electricity to bring him
+      near Micheline. As soon as he arrived in Paris, he regretted having
+      travelled so fast. He longed to meet his betrothed, yet feared to know his
+      fate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He had a sort of presentiment that his reception would destroy his hopes.
+      And the more he tried to banish these thoughts, the more forcibly they
+      returned. The thought that Micheline had forgotten her promise made the
+      blood rush to his face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes&rsquo;s short letter suggested it. That his betrothed was
+      lost to him he understood, but he would not admit it. How was it possible
+      that Micheline should forget him? All his childhood passed before his
+      mind. He remembered the sweet and artless evidences of affection which the
+      young girl had given him. And yet she no longer loved him! It was her own
+      mother who said so. After that could he still hope?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A prey to this deep trouble, Pierre entered Paris. On finding himself face
+      to face with Cayrol, the young man&rsquo;s first idea was, as Cayrol had
+      guessed, to cry out, &ldquo;What&rsquo;s going on? Is all lost to me?&rdquo; A sort of
+      anxious modesty kept back the words on his lips. He would not admit that
+      he doubted. And, then, Cayrol would only have needed to answer that all
+      was over, and that he could put on mourning for his love. He turned
+      around, and went out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The tumult of Paris surprised and stunned him. After spending a year in
+      the peaceful solitudes of Africa, to find himself amid the cries of
+      street-sellers, the rolling of carriages, and the incessant movement of
+      the great city, was too great a contrast to him. Pierre was overcome by
+      languor; his head seemed too heavy for his body to carry; he mechanically
+      entered a cab which conveyed him to the Hotel du Louvre. Through the
+      window, against the glass of which he tried to cool his heated forehead,
+      he saw pass in procession before his eyes, the Column of July, the church
+      of St. Paul, the Hotel de Ville in ruins, and the colonnade of the Louvre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      An absurd idea took possession of him. He remembered that during the
+      Commune he was nearly killed in the Rue Saint-Antoine by the explosion of
+      a shell, thrown by the insurgents from the heights of Pere-Lachaise. He
+      thought that had he died then, Micheline would have wept for him. Then, as
+      in a nightmare, it seemed to him that this hypothesis was realized. He saw
+      the church hung with black, he heard the funeral chants. A catafalque
+      contained his coffin, and slowly his betrothed came, with a trembling
+      hand, to throw holy water on the cloth which covered the bier. And a voice
+      said within him:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are dead, since Micheline is about to marry another.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He made an effort to banish this importunate idea. He could not succeed.
+      Thoughts flew through his brain with fearful rapidity. He thought he was
+      beginning to be seized with brain fever. And this dismal ceremony kept
+      coming before him with the same chants, the same words repeated, and the
+      same faces appearing. The houses seemed to fly before his vacant eyes. To
+      stop this nightmare he tried to count the gas-lamps: one, two, three,
+      four, five&mdash;but the same thought interrupted his calculation:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are dead, since your betrothed is about to marry another.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He was afraid he was going mad. A sharp pain shot across his forehead just
+      above the right eyebrow. In the old days he had felt the same pain when he
+      had overworked himself in preparing for his examinations at the
+      Polytechnic School. With a bitter smile he asked himself if one of the
+      aching vessels in his brain was about to burst?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The sudden stoppage of the cab freed him from this torture. The hotel
+      porter opened the door. Pierre stepped out mechanically. Without speaking
+      a word he followed a waiter, who showed him to a room on the second floor.
+      Left alone, he sat down. This room, with its commonplace furniture,
+      chilled him. He saw in it a type of his future life: lonely and desolate.
+      Formerly, when he used to come to Paris, he stayed with Madame
+      Desvarennes, where he had the comforts of home, and every one looked on
+      him affectionately.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Here, at the hotel, orders were obeyed with politeness at so much a day.
+      Would it always be thus in future?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This painful impression dissipated his weakness as by enchantment. He so
+      bitterly regretted the sweets of the past, that he resolved to struggle to
+      secure them for the future. He dressed himself quickly, and removed all
+      the traces of his journey; then, his mind made up, he jumped into a cab,
+      and drove to Madame Desvarennes&rsquo;s. All indecision had left him. His fears
+      now seemed contemptible. He must defend himself. It was a question of his
+      happiness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At the Place de la Concorde a carriage passed his cab. He recognized the
+      livery of Madame Desvarennes&rsquo;s coachman and leant forward. The mistress
+      did not see him. He was about to stop the cab and tell his driver to
+      follow her carriage when a sudden thought decided him to go on. It was
+      Micheline he wanted to see. His future destiny depended on her. Madame
+      Desvarennes had made him clearly understand that by calling for his help
+      in her fatal letter. He went on his way, and in a few minutes arrived at
+      the mansion in the Rue Saint-Dominique.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Micheline and Jeanne were still in the garden, seated in the same place on
+      the lawn. Cayrol had joined Serge. Both, profiting by the lovely morning,
+      were enjoying the society of their beloved ones. A quick step on the
+      gravel walk attracted their attention. In the sunlight a young man, whom
+      neither Jeanne nor Micheline recognized, was advancing. When about two
+      yards distant from the group he slowly raised his hat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Seeing the constrained and astonished manner of the young girls, a sad
+      smile played on his lips, then he said, softly:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Am I then so changed that I must tell you my name?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At these words Micheline jumped up, she became as white as her collar, and
+      trembling, with sobs rising to her lips, stood silent and petrified before
+      Pierre. She could not speak, but her eyes were eagerly fixed on the young
+      man. It was he, the companion of her youth, so changed that she had not
+      recognized him; worn by hard work, perhaps by anxieties, bronzed&mdash;and
+      with his face hidden by a black beard which gave him a manly and energetic
+      appearance. It was certainly he, with a thin red ribbon at his
+      button-hole, which he had not when he went away, and which showed the
+      importance of the works he had executed and of great perils he had faced.
+      Pierre, trembling and motionless, was silent; the sound of his voice
+      choked with emotion had frightened him. He had expected a cold reception,
+      but this scared look, which resembled terror, was beyond all he had
+      pictured. Serge wondered and watched.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne broke the icy silence. She went up to Pierre, and presented her
+      forehead.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;don&rsquo;t you kiss your friends?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She smiled affectionately on him. Two grateful tears sparkled in the young
+      man&rsquo;s eyes, and fell on Mademoiselle de Cernay&rsquo;s hair. Micheline, led away
+      by the example and without quite knowing what she was doing, found herself
+      in Pierre&rsquo;s arms. The situation was becoming singularly perplexing to
+      Serge. Cayrol, who had not lost his presence of mind, understood it, and
+      turning toward the Prince, said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur Pierre Delarue: an old friend and companion of Mademoiselle
+      Desvarennes&rsquo;s; almost a brother to her,&rdquo; thus explaining in one word all
+      that could appear unusual in such a scene of tenderness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then, addressing Pierre, he simply added&mdash;&ldquo;Prince Panine.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The two men looked at each other. Serge, with haughty curiosity; Pierre,
+      with inexpressible rage. In a moment, he guessed that the tall, handsome
+      man beside his betrothed was his rival. If looks could kill, the Prince
+      would have fallen down dead. Panine did not deign to notice the hatred
+      which glistened in the eyes of the newcomer. He turned toward Micheline
+      with exquisite grace and said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your mother receives her friends this evening, I think, Mademoiselle; I
+      shall have the honor of paying my respects to her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And taking leave of Jeanne with a smile, and of Pierre with a courteous
+      bow, he left, accompanied by Cayrol.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge&rsquo;s departure was a relief to Micheline. Between these two men to whom
+      she belonged, to the one by a promise, to the other by an avowal, she felt
+      ashamed. Left alone with Pierre she recovered her self-possession, and
+      felt full of pity for the poor fellow threatened with such cruel
+      deception. She went tenderly to him, with her loving eyes of old, and
+      pressed his hand:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am very glad to see you again, my dear Pierre; and my mother will be
+      delighted. We were very anxious about you. You have not written to us for
+      some months.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pierre tried to joke: &ldquo;The post does not leave very often in the desert. I
+      wrote whenever I had an opportunity.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it so very pleasant in Africa that you could not tear yourself away a
+      whole year?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I had to take another journey on the coast of Tripoli to finish my
+      labors. I was interested in my work, and anxious not to lose the result of
+      so much effort, and I think I have succeeded&mdash;at least in&mdash;the
+      opinion of my employers,&rdquo; said the young man, with a ghastly smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear Pierre, you come in time from the land of the sphinx,&rdquo;
+       interrupted Jeanne gravely, and glancing intently at Micheline. &ldquo;There is
+      here, I assure you, a difficult enigma to solve.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That which is written in this heart,&rdquo; she replied, lightly touching her
+      companion&rsquo;s breast.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;From childhood I have always read it as easily as a book,&rdquo; said Pierre,
+      with tremulous voice, turning toward the amazed Micheline.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mademoiselle de Cernay tossed her head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who knows? Perhaps her disposition has changed during your absence;&rdquo; and
+      nodding pleasantly, she went toward the house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pierre followed her for a moment with his eyes, then, turning toward his
+      betrothed, said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Micheline, shall I tell you your secret? You no longer love me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The young girl started. The attack was direct. She must at once give an
+      explanation. She had often thought of what she would say when Pierre came
+      back to her. The day had arrived unexpectedly. And the answers she had
+      prepared had fled. The truth appeared harsh and cold. She understood that
+      the change in her was treachery, of which Pierre was the innocent victim;
+      and feeling herself to blame, she waited tremblingly the explosion of this
+      loyal heart so cruelly wounded. She stammered, in tremulous accents:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pierre, my friend, my brother.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your brother!&rdquo; cried the young man, bitterly. &ldquo;Was that the name you were
+      to give me on my return?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At these words, which so completely summed up the situation, Micheline
+      remained silent. Still she felt that at all hazards she must defend
+      herself. Her mother might come in at any moment. Between Madame
+      Desvarennes and her betrothed, what would become of her? The hour was
+      decisive. Her strong love for Serge gave her fresh energy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why did you go away?&rdquo; she asked, with sadness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pierre raised with pride his head which had been bent with anguish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To be worthy of you,&rdquo; he merely said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You did not need to be worthy of me; you, who were already above every
+      one else. We were betrothed; you only had to guard me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Could not your heart guard itself?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Without help, without the support of your presence and affection?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Without other help or support than I had myself: Hope and Remembrance.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Micheline turned pale. Each word spoken by Pierre made her feel the
+      unworthiness of her conduct more completely. She endeavored to find a new
+      excuse:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pierre, you know I was only a child.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; said the young man, with choked voice, &ldquo;I see that you were already
+      a woman; a being weak, inconstant, and cruel; who cares not for the love
+      she inspires, and sacrifices all to the love she feels.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      So long as Pierre had only complained, Micheline felt overwhelmed and
+      without strength; but the young man began to accuse. In a moment the young
+      girl regained her presence of mind and revolted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Those are hard words!&rdquo; she exclaimed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are they not deserved?&rdquo; cried Pierre, no longer restraining himself. &ldquo;You
+      saw me arrive trembling, with eyes full of tears, and not only had you not
+      an affectionate word to greet me with, but you almost accuse me of
+      indifference. You reproach me with having gone away. Did you not know my
+      motive for going? I was betrothed to you; you were rich and I was poor. To
+      remove this inequality I resolved to make a name. I sought one of those
+      perilous scientific missions which bring celebrity or death to those who
+      undertake them. Ah! think not that I went away from you without
+      heart-breaking! For a year I was almost alone, crushed with fatigue,
+      always in danger; the thought that I was suffering for you supported me.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When lost in the vast desert, I was sad and discouraged; I invoked you,
+      and your sweet face gave me fresh hope and energy. I said to myself, &lsquo;She
+      is waiting for me. A day will come when I shall win the prize of all my
+      trouble.&rsquo; Well, Micheline, the day has come; here I am, returned, and I
+      ask for my reward. Is it what I had a right to expect? While I was running
+      after glory, another, more practical and better advised, stole your heart.
+      My happiness is destroyed. You did well to forget me. The fool who goes so
+      far away from his betrothed does not deserve her faithfulness. He is cold,
+      indifferent, he does not know how to love!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      These vehement utterances troubled Micheline deeply. For the first time
+      she understood her betrothed, felt how much he loved her, and regretted
+      not having known it before. If Pierre had spoken like that before going
+      away, who knows? Micheline&rsquo;s feelings might have been quickened. No doubt
+      she would have loved him. It would have come naturally. But Pierre had
+      kept the secret of his passion for the young girl to himself. It was only
+      despair, and the thought of losing her, that made him give vent to his
+      feelings now.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I see that I have been cruel and unjust to you,&rdquo; said Micheline. &ldquo;I
+      deserve your reproaches, but I am not the only one to blame. You, too, are
+      at fault. What I have just heard has upset me. I am truly sorry to cause
+      you so much pain; but it is too late. I no longer belong to myself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And did you belong to yourself?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No! It is true, you had my word, but be generous. Do not abuse the
+      authority which being my betrothed gives you. That promise I would now ask
+      back from you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And if I refuse to release you from your promise? If I tried to, regain
+      your love?&rdquo; cried Pierre, forcibly. &ldquo;Have I not the right to defend
+      myself? And what would you think of my love if I relinquished you so
+      readily?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a moment&rsquo;s silence. The interview was at its highest pitch of
+      excitement. Micheline knew that she must put an end to it. She replied
+      with firmness:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A girl such as I am will not break her word; mine belongs to you, but my
+      heart is another&rsquo;s. Say you insist, and I am ready to keep my promise to
+      become your wife. It is for you to decide.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pierre gave the young girl a look which plunged into the depths of her
+      heart. He read there her resolve that she would act loyally, but that at
+      the same time she would never forget him who had so irresistibly gained
+      her heart. He made a last effort.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Listen,&rdquo; he said, with ardent voice, &ldquo;it is impossible that you can have
+      forgotten me so soon: I love you so much! Remember our affection in the
+      old days, Micheline. Remember!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He no longer argued; he pleaded. Micheline felt victorious. She was moved
+      with pity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Alas! my poor Pierre, my affection was only friendship, and my heart has
+      not changed toward you. The love which I now feel is quite different. If
+      it had not come to me, I might have been your wife. And I esteemed you so
+      much, that I should have been happy. But now I understand the difference.
+      You, whom I had accepted, would never have been more to me than a tender
+      companion; he whom I have chosen will be my master.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pierre uttered a cry at this cruel and frank avowal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! how you hurt me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And bitter tears rolled down his face to the relief of his overburdened
+      heart. He sank on to a seat, and for a moment gave way to violent grief.
+      Micheline, more touched by his despair than she had been by his
+      reproaches, went to him and wiped his face with her lace handkerchief. Her
+      white hand was close to the young man&rsquo;s mouth,&mdash;and he kissed it
+      eagerly. Then, as if roused by the action, he rose with a changed look in
+      his eyes, and seized the young girl in his arms. Micheline did not utter a
+      word. She looked coldly and resolutely at Pierre, and threw back her head
+      to avoid the contact of his eager lips. That look was enough. The arms
+      which held her were unloosed, and Pierre moved away, murmuring:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I beg your pardon. You see I am not in my right mind.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Then passing his hand across his forehead as if to chase away a wicked
+      thought, he added:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So it is irrevocable? You love him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Enough to give you so much pain; enough to be nobody&rsquo;s unless I belong to
+      him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pierre reflected a moment, then, coming to a decision:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go, you are free,&rdquo; said he; &ldquo;I give you back your promise.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Micheline uttered a cry of triumph, which made him who had been her
+      betrothed turn pale. She regretted not having hidden her joy better. She
+      approached Pierre and said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tell me that you forgive me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I forgive you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You still weep?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; I am weeping over my lost happiness. I thought the best means of
+      being loved were to deserve it. I was mistaken. I will courageously atone
+      for my error. Excuse my weakness, and believe that you will never have a
+      more faithful and devoted friend than I.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Micheline gave him her hand, and, smiling, bowed her forehead to his lips.
+      He slowly impressed a brotherly kiss, which effaced the burning trace of
+      the one which he had stolen a moment before.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At the same time a deep voice was heard in the distance, calling Pierre.
+      Micheline trembled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;Tis my mother,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;She is seeking you. I will leave you. Adieu,
+      and a thousand thanks from my very heart.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And nimbly springing behind a clump of lilac-trees in flower, Micheline
+      disappeared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pierre mechanically went toward the house. He ascended the marble steps
+      and entered the drawing-room. As he shut the door, Madame Desvarennes
+      appeared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER V. A CRITICAL INTERVIEW
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes had been driven to the Hotel du Louvre without losing a
+      minute. She most wanted to know in what state of mind her daughter&rsquo;s
+      betrothed had arrived in Paris. Had the letter, which brutally told him
+      the truth, roused him and tightened the springs of his will? Was he ready
+      for the struggle?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      If she found him confident and bold, she had only to settle with him as to
+      the common plan of action which must bring about the eviction of the
+      audacious candidate who wished to marry Micheline. If she found him
+      discouraged and doubtful of himself, she had decided to animate him with
+      her ardor against Serge Panine.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She prepared these arguments on the way, and, boiling with impatience,
+      outstripped in thought the fleet horse which was drawing her past the long
+      railings of the Tuileries toward the Hotel du Louvre. Wrapped in her
+      meditations she did not see Pierre. She was saying to herself:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This fair-haired Polish dandy does not know with whom he has to deal. He
+      will see what sort of a woman I am. He has not risen early enough in the
+      morning to hoodwink me. If Pierre is only of the same opinion as I, we
+      shall soon spoil this fortune-hunter&rsquo;s work.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The carriage stopped.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur Pierre Delarue?&rdquo; inquired the mistress.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame, he went out a quarter of an hour ago.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To go where?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He did not say.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you know whether he will be absent long?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Much obliged.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes, quite discomfited by this mischance, reflected. Where
+      could Pierre have gone? Probably to her house. Without losing a minute,
+      she reentered the carriage, and gave orders to return to the Rue
+      Saint-Dominique. If he had gone at once to her house, it was plain that he
+      was ready to do anything to keep Micheline. The coachman who had received
+      the order drove furiously. She said to herself:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pierre is in a cab. Allowing that he is driving moderately quick he will
+      only have half-an-hour&rsquo;s start of me. He will pass through the office,
+      will see Marechal, and however eager he be, will lose a quarter of an hour
+      in chatting to him. It would be most vexing if he did anything foolish in
+      the remaining fifteen minutes! The fault is mine: I ought to have sent him
+      a letter at Marseilles, to tell him what line of conduct to adopt on his
+      arrival. So long as he does not meet Micheline on entering the house!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At that idea Madame Desvarennes felt the blood rushing to her face. She
+      put her head out of the carriage window, and called to the coachman:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Drive faster!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He drove more furiously still, and in a few minutes reached the Rue
+      Saint-Dominique.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She tore into the house like a hurricane, questioned the hall-porter, and
+      learned that Delarue had arrived. She hastened to Marechal, and asked him
+      in such a strange manner, &ldquo;Have you seen Pierre?&rdquo; that he thought some
+      accident had happened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On seeing her secretary&rsquo;s scared look, she understood that what she most
+      dreaded had come to pass. She hurried to the drawing-room, calling Pierre
+      in a loud voice. The French window opened, and she found herself face to
+      face with the young man. A glance at her adopted son&rsquo;s face increased her
+      fears. She opened her arms and clasped Pierre to her heart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      After the first emotions were over, she longed to know what had happened
+      during her absence, and inquired of Pierre:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By whom were you received on arriving here?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By Micheline.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is what I feared! What did she tell you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Everything!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In three sentences these two strong beings had summed up all that had
+      taken place. Madame Desvarennes remained silent for a moment, then, with
+      sudden tenderness, and as if to make up for her daughter&rsquo;s treachery,
+      said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come, let me kiss you again, my poor boy. You suffer, eh? and I too! I am
+      quite overcome. For ten years I have cherished the idea of your marrying
+      Micheline. You are a man of merit, and you have no relatives. You would
+      not take my daughter away from me; on the contrary I think you like me,
+      and would willingly live with me. In arranging this marriage I realized
+      the dream of my life. I was not taking a son-in-law-I was gaining a new
+      child.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Believe me,&rdquo; said Pierre, sadly, &ldquo;it is not my fault that your wish is
+      not carried out.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That, my boy, is another question!&rdquo; cried Madame Desvarennes, whose voice
+      was at once raised two tones. &ldquo;And that is where we do not agree. You are
+      responsible for what has occurred. I know what you are going, to tell me.
+      You wished to bring laurels to Micheline as a dower. That is all nonsense!
+      When one leaves the Polytechnic School with honors, and with a future open
+      to you like yours, it is not necessary to scour the deserts to dazzle a
+      young girl. One begins by marrying her, and celebrity comes afterward, at
+      the same time as the children. And then there was no need to risk all at
+      such a cost. What, are we then so grand? Ex-bakers! Millionaires,
+      certainly, which does not alter the fact that poor Desvarennes carried out
+      the bread, and that I gave change across the counter when folks came to
+      buy sou-cakes! But you wanted to be a knight-errant, and, during that
+      time, a handsome fellow. Did Micheline tell you the gentleman&rsquo;s name?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I met him when I came here; he was with her in the garden. We were
+      introduced to each other.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That was good taste,&rdquo; said Madame Desvarennes with irony. &ldquo;Oh, he is a
+      youth who is not easily disturbed, and in his most passionate transports
+      will not disarrange a fold of his cravat. You know he is a Prince? That is
+      most flattering to the Desvarennes! We shall use his coat-of-arms as our
+      trade-mark. The fortune hunter, ugh! No doubt he said to himself, &lsquo;The
+      baker has money&mdash;and her daughter is agreeable.&rsquo; And he is making a
+      business of it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is only following the example of many of his equals. Marriage is
+      to-day the sole pursuit of the nobility.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The nobility! That of our country might be tolerated, but foreign
+      noblemen are mere adventurers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is well known that the Panines come from Posen&mdash;the papers have
+      mentioned them more than twenty times.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why is he not in his own country?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is exiled.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He has done something wrong, then!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He has, like all his family, fought for independence.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then he is a revolutionist!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A patriot.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are very kind to tell me all that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I may hate Prince Panine,&rdquo; said Pierre, simply, &ldquo;but that is no reason
+      why I should not be just to him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So be it; he is an exceptional being, a great citizen, a hero, if you
+      like. But that does not prove that he will make my daughter happy. And if
+      you take my advice, we shall send him about his business in a very short
+      time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes was excited and paced hurriedly up and down the room.
+      The idea of resuming the offensive after she had been forced to act on the
+      defensive for months past pleased her. She thought Pierre argued too much.
+      A woman of action, she did not understand why Pierre had not yet come to a
+      resolution. She felt that she must gain his confidence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are master of the situation,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;The Prince does not suit me&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Micheline loves him,&rdquo; interrupted Pierre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She fancies so,&rdquo; replied Madame Desvarennes. &ldquo;She has got it into her
+      head, but it will wear off. You thoroughly understand that I did not bid
+      you to come from Africa to be present at my daughter&rsquo;s wedding. If you are
+      a man, we shall see some fun. Micheline is your betrothed. You have our
+      word, and the word of a Desvarennes is as good as the signature.&mdash;It
+      has never been dishonored. Well, refuse to give us back our promise. Gain
+      time, make love, and take my daughter away from that dandy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pierre remained silent for a few minutes. In a moment he measured the
+      extent of the mischief done, by seeing Micheline before consulting Madame
+      Desvarennes. With the help of this energetic woman he might have
+      struggled, whereas left to his own strength, he had at the outset been
+      vanquished and forced to lay down his arms. Not only had he yielded, but
+      he had drawn his ally into his defeat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your encouragements come too late,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;Micheline asked me to give
+      her back her promise, and I gave it to her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You were so weak as that!&rdquo; cried Madame Desvarennes. &ldquo;And she had so much
+      boldness? Does she dote on him so? I suspected her plans, and I hastened
+      to warn you. But all is not lost. You have given Micheline back her
+      promise. So be it. But I have not given you back yours. You are pledged to
+      me. I will not countenance the marriage which my daughter has arranged
+      without my consent! Help me to break it off. And, faith, you could easily
+      find another woman worth Micheline, but where shall I find a son-in-law
+      worth you? Come, the happiness of us all is in peril; save it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why continue the struggle? I am beaten beforehand.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But if you forsake me, what can I do single-handed with Micheline?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do what she wishes, as usual. You are surprised at my giving you this
+      advice? It is no merit on my part. Until now you have refused your
+      daughter&rsquo;s request; but if she comes again beseeching and crying, you who
+      are so strong and can say so well &lsquo;I will,&rsquo; will be weak and will not be
+      able to refuse her her Prince. Believe me; consent willingly. Who knows?
+      Your son&rsquo;-in-law may be grateful to you for it by-and-by.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes had listened to Pierre with amazement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Really, you are incredible,&rdquo; she said; &ldquo;you discuss all this so calmly.
+      Have you no grief?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; replied Pierre, solemnly, &ldquo;it is almost killing me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nonsense! You are boasting!&rdquo; cried Madame Desvarennes, vehemently. &ldquo;Ah,
+      scholar! figures have dried up your heart!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; replied the young man, with melancholy, &ldquo;but work has destroyed in
+      me the seductions of youth. It has made me thoughtful, and a little sad. I
+      frightened Micheline, instead of attracting her. The worst is that we live
+      in such a state of high pressure, it is quite impossible to grasp all that
+      is offered to us in this life-work and pleasure. It is necessary to make a
+      choice, to economize one&rsquo;s time and strength, and to work with either the
+      heart or the brain alone. The result is that the neglected organ wastes
+      away, and that men of pleasure remain all their lives mediocre workers,
+      while hard workers are pitiful lovers. The former sacrifice the dignity of
+      existence, the latter that which is the charm of existence. So that, in
+      decisive moments, when the man of pleasure appeals to his intelligence, he
+      finds he is unfit for duty, and when the man of toil appeals to his heart,
+      he finds that he is unqualified for happiness.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, my boy, so much the worse for the women who cannot appreciate men
+      of work, and who allow themselves to be wheedled by men of pleasure. I
+      never was one of those; and serious as you are, thirty years ago I would
+      have jumped at you. But as you know your ailment so well, why don&rsquo;t you
+      cure yourself? The remedy is at hand.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Strong will. Marry Micheline. I&rsquo;ll answer for everything.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She does not love me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A woman always ends by loving her husband.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I love Micheline too much to accept her hand without her heart.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes saw that she would gain nothing, and that the game was
+      irrevocably lost. A great sorrow stole over her. She foresaw a dark
+      future, and had a presentiment that trouble had entered the house with
+      Serge Panine. What could she do? Combat the infatuation of her daughter!
+      She knew that life would be odious for her if Micheline ceased to laugh
+      and to sing. Her daughter&rsquo;s tears would conquer her will. Pierre had told
+      her truly. Where was the use of fighting when defeat was certain? She,
+      too, felt that she was powerless, and with heartfelt sorrow came to a
+      decision.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come, I see that I must make up my mind to be grandmother to little
+      princes. It pleases me but little on the father&rsquo;s account. My daughter
+      will have a sad lot with a fellow of that kind. Well, he had better keep
+      in the right path; for I shall be there to call him to order. Micheline
+      must be happy. When my husband was alive, I was already more of a mother
+      than a wife; now my whole life is wrapped up in my daughter.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Then raising her vigorous arms with grim energy, she added:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you know, if my daughter were made miserable through her husband, I
+      should be capable of killing him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      These were the last words of the interview which decided the destiny of
+      Micheline, of the Prince, of Madame Desvarennes, and of Pierre. The
+      mistress stretched out her hand and rang the bell. A servant appeared, to
+      whom she gave instructions to tell Marechal to come down. She thought it
+      would be pleasant for Pierre to pour out his griefs into the heart of his
+      friend. A man weeps with difficulty before a woman, and she guessed that
+      the young man&rsquo;s heart was swollen with tears. Marechal was not far off. He
+      arrived in a moment, and springing toward Pierre put his arms round his
+      neck. When Madame Desvarennes saw the two friends fully engrossed with
+      each other, she said to Marechal:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I give you leave until this evening. Then bring Pierre back with you; I
+      wish to see him after dinner.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And with a firm step she went toward Micheline&rsquo;s room, where the latter
+      was waiting in fear to know the result of the interview.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VI. A SIGNIFICANT MEETING
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The mansion in the Rue Saint-Dominique is certainly one of the finest to
+      be seen. Sovereigns alone have more sumptuous palaces. The wide staircase,
+      of carved oak, is bordered by a bronze balustrade, made by Ghirlandajo,
+      and brought from Florence by Sommervieux, the great dealer in curiosities.
+      Baron Rothschild would consent to give only a hundred thousand francs for
+      it. Madame Desvarennes bought it. The large panels of the staircase are
+      hung with splendid tapestry, from designs by Boucher, representing the
+      different metamorphoses of Jupiter. At each landing-place stands a massive
+      Japanese vase of &lsquo;claisonne&rsquo; enamel, supported by a tripod of Chinese
+      bronze, representing chimeras. On the first floor, tall columns of red
+      granite, crowned by gilt capitals, divide the staircase from a gallery,
+      serving as a conservatory. Plaited blinds of crimson silk hang before the
+      Gothic windows, filled with marvellous stained glass.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the vestibule-the hangings of which are of Cordova-leather, with gold
+      ground-seemingly awaiting the good pleasure of some grand lady, is a
+      sedan-chair, decorated with paintings by Fragonard. Farther on, there is
+      one of those superb carved mother-of-pearl coffers, in which Oriental
+      women lay by their finery and jewellery. A splendid Venetian mirror, its
+      frame embellished with tiny figure subjects, and measuring two metres in
+      width and three in height, fills a whole panel of the vestibule. Portieres
+      of Chinese satin, ornamented with striking embroidery, such as figures on
+      a priest&rsquo;s chasuble, fall in sumptuous folds at the drawing-room and
+      dining-room doors.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The drawing-room contains a splendid set of Louis Quatorze furniture, of
+      gilt wood, upholstered in fine tapestry, in an extraordinary state of
+      preservation. Three crystal lustres, hanging at intervals along the room,
+      sparkle like diamonds. The hangings, of woven silk and gold, are those
+      which were sent as a present by Louis Quatorze to Monsieur de Pimentel,
+      the Spanish Ambassador, to reward him for the part he had taken in the
+      conclusion of the Treaty of the Pyrenees. These hangings are unique, and
+      were brought back from Spain in 1814, in the baggage-train of Soult&rsquo;s
+      army, and sold to an inhabitant of Toulouse for ten thousand francs. It
+      was there that Madame Desvarennes discovered them in a garret in 1864,
+      neglected by the grandchildren of the buyer, who were ignorant of the
+      immense value of such unrivalled work. Cleverly mended, they are to-day
+      the pride of the great trader&rsquo;s drawing-room. On the mantelpiece there is
+      a large clock in Chinese lacquer, ornamented with gilt bronze, made on a
+      model sent out from Paris in the reign of Louis Quatorze, and representing
+      the Flight of the Hours pursued by Time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Adjoining the great drawing-room is a boudoir upholstered in light gray
+      silk damask, with bouquets of flowers. This is Madame Desvarennes&rsquo;s
+      favorite room. A splendid Erard piano occupies one side of the apartment.
+      Facing it is a sideboard in sculptured ebony, enriched with bronze, by
+      Gouthieres. There are only two pictures on the walls: &ldquo;The Departure of
+      the Newly Married Couple,&rdquo; exquisitely painted by Lancret; and &ldquo;The
+      Prediction,&rdquo; an adorable work by Watteau, bought at an incredible price at
+      the Pourtales sale. Over the chimney-piece is a miniature by Pommayrac,
+      representing Micheline as a little child&mdash;a treasure which Madame
+      Desvarennes cannot behold without tears coming to her eyes. A door, hidden
+      by curtains, opens on to a staircase leading directly to the courtyard.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The dining-room is in the purest Renaissance style austere woodwork;
+      immense chests of caned pearwood, on which stand precious ewers in Urbino
+      ware, and dishes by Bernard Palissy. The high stone fireplace is
+      surmounted by a portrait of Diana of Poitiers, with a crescent on her
+      brow, and is furnished with firedogs of elaborately worked iron. The
+      centre panel bears the arms of Admiral Bonnivet. Stained-glass windows
+      admit a softly-tinted light. From the magnificently painted ceiling, a
+      chandelier of brass repousse work hangs from the claws of a hovering
+      eagle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The billiard-room is in the Indian style. Magnificent panoplies unite
+      Rajpoot shields, Mahratta scimitars, helmets with curtains of steel, rings
+      belonging to Afghan chiefs, and long lances ornamented with white mares&rsquo; 
+      tails, wielded by the horsemen of Cabul. The walls are painted from
+      designs brought from Lahore. The panels of the doors were decorated by
+      Gerome. The great artist has painted Nautch girls twisting their floating
+      scarves, and jugglers throwing poignards into the air. Around the room are
+      low divans, covered with soft and brilliant Oriental cloth. The chandelier
+      is quite original in form, being the exact representation of the god
+      Vishnu. From the centre of the body hangs a lotus leaf of emeralds, and
+      from each of the four arms is suspended a lamp shaped like a Hindu pagoda,
+      which throws out a mellow light.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes was entertaining her visitors in these celebrated
+      apartments that evening. Marechal and Pierre had just come in, and were
+      talking together near the fireplace. A few steps from them was a group,
+      consisting of Cayrol, Madame Desvarennes, and a third person, who had
+      never until then put his foot in the house, in spite of intercessions in
+      his favor made by the banker to Madame Desvarennes. He was a tall, pale,
+      thin man, whose skin seemed stretched on his bones, with a strongly
+      developed under-jaw, like that of a ravenous animal, and eyes of
+      indefinable color, always changing, and veiled behind golden-rimmed
+      spectacles. His hands were soft and smooth, with moist palms and closely
+      cut nails&mdash;vicious hands, made to take cunningly what they coveted.
+      He had scanty hair, of a pale yellow, parted just above the ear, so as to
+      enable him to brush it over the top of his head. This personage, clad in a
+      double-breasted surtout, over a white waistcoat, and wearing a
+      many-colored rosette, was called Hermann Herzog.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A daring financier, he had come from Luxembourg, preceded by a great
+      reputation; and, in a few months, he had launched in Paris such a series
+      of important affairs that the big-wigs on the Exchange felt bound to treat
+      with him. There were many rumors current about him. Some said he was the
+      most intelligent, most active, and most scrupulous of men that it was
+      possible to meet. Others said that no greater scoundrel had ever dared the
+      vengeance of the law, after plundering honest people. Of German
+      nationality, those who cried him down said he was born at Mayence. Those
+      who treated the rumors as legends said he was born at Frankfort, the most
+      Gallic town beyond the river Rhine.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He had just completed an important line of railway from Morocco to the
+      centre of our colony in Algeria, and now he was promoting a company for
+      exporting grain and flour from America. Several times Cayrol had tried to
+      bring Herzog and Madame Desvarennes together. The banker had an interest
+      in the grain and flour speculation, but he asserted that it would not
+      succeed unless the mistress had a hand in it. Cayrol had a blind faith in
+      the mistress&rsquo;s luck.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes, suspicious of everything foreign, and perfectly
+      acquainted with the rumors circulated respecting Herzog, had always
+      refused to receive him. But Cayrol had been so importunate that, being
+      quite tired of refusing, and, besides, being willing to favor Cayrol for
+      having so discreetly managed the negotiations of Micheline&rsquo;s marriage, she
+      had consented.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Herzog had just arrived. He was expressing to Madame Desvarennes his
+      delight at being admitted to her house. He had so often heard her highly
+      spoken of that he had formed a high idea of her, but one which was,
+      however, far below the reality; he understood now that it was an honor to
+      be acquainted with her. He wheedled her with German grace, and with a
+      German-Jewish accent, which reminds one of the itinerant merchants, who
+      offer you with persistence &ldquo;a goot pargain.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The mistress had been rather cold at first, but Herzog&rsquo;s amiability had
+      thawed her. This man, with his slow speech and queer eyes, produced a
+      fascinating effect on one like a serpent. He was repugnant, and yet, in
+      spite of one&rsquo;s self one was led on. He, had at once introduced the grain
+      question, but in this he found himself face to face with the real Madame
+      Desvarennes; and no politeness held good on her part when it was a
+      question of business. From his first words, she had found a weak point in
+      the plan, and had attacked him with such plainness that the financier,
+      seeing his enterprise collapse at the sound of the mistress&rsquo;s voice-like
+      the walls of Jericho at the sound of the Jewish trumpets&mdash;had beaten
+      a retreat, and had changed the subject.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was about to float a credit and discount company superior to any in the
+      world. He would come back and talk with Madame Desvarennes about it,
+      because she ought to participate in the large profits which the matter
+      promised. There was no risk. The novelty of the undertaking consisted in
+      the concurrence of the largest banking-houses of France and abroad, which
+      would hinder all competition, and prevent hostility on the part of the
+      great money-handlers. It was very curious, and Madame Desvarennes would
+      feel great satisfaction in knowing the mechanism of this company, destined
+      to become, from the first, the most important in the world, and yet most
+      easy to understand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes neither said &ldquo;Yes&rdquo; nor &ldquo;No.&rdquo; Moved by the soft and
+      insinuating talkativeness of Herzog, she felt herself treading on
+      dangerous ground. It seemed to her that her foot was sinking, as in those
+      dangerous peat-mosses of which the surface is covered with green grass,
+      tempting one to run on it. Cayrol was under the charm. He drank in the
+      German&rsquo;s words. This clever man, who had never till then been duped, had
+      found his master in Herzog.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pierre and Marechal had come nearer, and Madame Desvarennes, profiting by
+      this mingling of groups, introduced the men to each other. On hearing the
+      name of Pierre Delarue, Herzog looked thoughtful, and asked if the young
+      man was the renowned engineer whose works on the coast of Africa had
+      caused so much talk in Europe? On Madame Desvarennes replying in the
+      affirmative, he showered well-chosen compliments on Pierre. He had had the
+      pleasure of meeting Delarue in Algeria, when he had gone over to finish
+      the railroad in Morocco.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Pierre had stepped back on learning that the constructor of that
+      important line was before him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! is it you, sir, who carried out that job?&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;Faith! you
+      treated those poor Moors rather hardly!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He remembered the misery of the poor natives employed by Europeans who
+      superintended the work. Old men, women, and children were placed at the
+      disposal of the contractors by the native authorities, to dig up and
+      remove the soil; and these poor wretches, crushed with hard work, and
+      driven with the lash by drunken overseers&mdash;who commanded them with a
+      pistol in hand&mdash;under a burning sun, inhaled the noxious vapors
+      arising from the upturned soil, and died like flies. It was a terrible
+      sight, and one that Pierre could not forget.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Herzog, with his cajoling sweetness, protested against this
+      exaggerated picture. Delarue had arrived during the dog-days&mdash;a bad
+      time. And then, it was necessary for the work to be carried on without
+      delay. Besides, a few Moors, more or less&mdash;what did it matter?
+      Negroes, all but monkeys!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Marechal, who had listened silently until then, interrupted the
+      conversation, to defend the monkeys in the name of Littre. He had framed a
+      theory, founded on Darwin, and tending to prove that men who despised
+      monkeys despised themselves. Herzog, a little taken aback by this
+      unexpected reply, had looked at Marechal slyly, asking himself if it was a
+      joke. But, seeing Madame Desvarennes laugh, he recovered his
+      self-possession. Business could not be carried on in the East as in
+      Europe. And then, had it not always been thus? Had not all the great
+      discoverers worked the countries which they discovered? Christopher
+      Columbus, Cortez&mdash;had they not taken riches from the Indians, in
+      exchange for the civilization which they brought them? He (Herzog) had, in
+      making a railway in Morocco, given the natives the means of civilizing
+      themselves. It was only fair that it should cost them something.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Herzog uttered his tirade with all the charm of which he was capable; he
+      looked to the right and to the left to notice the effect. He saw nothing
+      but constrained faces. It seemed as if they were expecting some one or
+      something. Time was passing; ten o&rsquo;clock had just struck. From the little
+      boudoir sounds of music were occasionally heard, when Micheline&rsquo;s nervous
+      hand struck a louder chord on her piano. She was there, anxiously awaiting
+      some one or something. Jeanne de Cernay, stretched in an easy-chair, her
+      head leaning on her hand, was dreaming.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      During the past three weeks the young girl had changed. Her bright wit no
+      longer enlivened Micheline&rsquo;s indolent calmness; her brilliant eyes were
+      surrounded by blue rings, which denoted nights passed without sleep. The
+      change coincided strangely with Prince Panine&rsquo;s departure for England, and
+      the sending of the letter which recalled Pierre to Paris. Had the
+      inhabitants of the mansion been less occupied with their own troubles,
+      they would no doubt have noticed this sudden change, and have sought to
+      know the reason. But the attention of all was concentrated on the events
+      which had already troubled them, and which would no doubt be yet more
+      serious to the house, until lately so quiet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The visitors&rsquo; bell sounded, and caused Micheline to rise. The blood rushed
+      to her cheeks. She whispered, &ldquo;It is he!&rdquo; and, hesitating, she remained a
+      moment leaning on the piano, listening vaguely to the sounds in the
+      drawing-room. The footman&rsquo;s voice announcing the visitor reached the young
+      girls:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Prince Panine.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne also rose then, and if Micheline had turned round she would have
+      been frightened at the pallor of her companion. But Mademoiselle
+      Desvarennes was not thinking of Mademoiselle de Cernay; she had just
+      raised the heavy door curtain, and calling to Jeanne, &ldquo;Are you coming?&rdquo;
+       passed into the drawing-room:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was indeed Prince Serge, who was expected by Cayrol with impatience, by
+      Madame Desvarennes with silent irritation, by Pierre with deep anguish.
+      The handsome prince, calm and smiling, with white cravat and elegantly
+      fitting dress-coat which showed off his fine figure, advanced toward
+      Madame Desvarennes before whom he bowed. He seemed only to have seen
+      Micheline&rsquo;s mother. Not a look for the two young girls or the men who were
+      around him. The rest of the universe did not seem to count. He bent as if
+      before a queen, with a dash of respectful adoration. He seemed to be
+      saying:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here I am at your feet; my life depends on you; make a sign and I shall
+      be the happiest of men or the most miserable.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Micheline followed him with eyes full of pride; she admired his haughty
+      grace and his caressing humility. It was by these contrasts that Serge had
+      attracted the young girl&rsquo;s notice. She felt herself face to face with a
+      strange nature, different from men around her, and had become interested
+      in him. Then he had spoken to her, and his sweet penetrating voice had
+      touched her heart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      What he had achieved with Micheline he longed to achieve with her mother.
+      After placing himself at the feet of the mother of her whom he loved, he
+      sought the road to her heart. He took his place beside the mistress and
+      spoke. He hoped that Madame Desvarennes would excuse the haste of his
+      visit. The obedience which he had shown in going away must be a proof to
+      her of his submission to her wishes. He was her most devoted and
+      respectful servant. He resigned himself to anything she might exact of
+      him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes listened to that sweet voice; she had never heard it so
+      full of charm. She understood what influence this sweetness had exercised
+      over Micheline; she repented not having watched over her more carefully,
+      and cursed the hour that had brought all this evil upon them. She was
+      obliged, however, to answer him. The mistress went straight to the point.
+      She was not one to beat about the bush when once her mind was made up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You come, no doubt, sir, to receive an answer to the request you
+      addressed to me before your departure for England!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince turned slightly pale. The words which Madame Desvarennes was
+      about to pronounce were of such importance to him that he could not help
+      feeling moved. He answered, in a suppressed tone:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I would not have dared to speak to you on the subject, Madame, especially
+      in public; but since you anticipate my desire, I admit I am waiting with
+      deep anxiety for one word from you which will decide my fate.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He continued bent before Madame Desvarennes like a culprit before his
+      judge. The mistress was silent for a moment, as if hesitating before
+      answering, and then said, gravely:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That word I hesitated to pronounce, but some one in whom I have great
+      confidence has advised me to receive you favorably.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He, Madame, whoever he may be, has gained my everlasting gratitude.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Show it to him,&rdquo; said Madame Desvarennes; &ldquo;he is the companion of
+      Micheline&rsquo;s young days, almost a son to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And turning toward Pierre, she pointed him out to Panine.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge took three rapid strides toward Pierre, but quick as he had been
+      Micheline was before him. Each of the lovers seized a hand of Pierre, and
+      pressed it with tender effusion. Panine, with his Polish impetuosity, was
+      making the most ardent protestations to Pierre&mdash;he would be indebted
+      to him for life.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Micheline&rsquo;s late betrothed, with despair in his heart, allowed his hands
+      to be pressed and wrung in silence. The voice of her whom he loved brought
+      tears to his eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How generous and good you are!&rdquo; said the young girl, &ldquo;how nobly you have
+      sacrificed yourself!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t thank me,&rdquo; replied Pierre; &ldquo;I have no merit in accomplishing what
+      you admire. I am weak, you see, and I could not bear to see you suffer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a great commotion in the drawing-room. Cayrol was explaining to
+      Herzog, who was listening with great attention, what was taking place.
+      Serge Panine was to be Madame Desvarennes&rsquo;s son-in-law. It was a great
+      event.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly,&rdquo; said the German; &ldquo;Madame Desvarennes&rsquo;s son-in-law will become
+      a financial power. And a Prince, too. What a fine name for a board of
+      directors!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The two financiers looked at each other for a moment; the same thought had
+      struck them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, but,&rdquo; replied Cayrol, &ldquo;Madame Desvarennes will never allow Panine to
+      take part in business.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who knows?&rdquo; said Herzog. &ldquo;We shall see how the marriage settlements are
+      drawn up.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But,&rdquo; cried Cayrol, &ldquo;I would not have it said that I was leading Madame
+      Desvarennes&rsquo;s son-in-law into speculations.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who is speaking of that?&rdquo; replied Herzog, coldly. &ldquo;Am I seeking
+      shareholders? I have more money than I want; I refuse millions every day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I know capitalists run after you,&rdquo; said Cayrol, laughingly; &ldquo;and to
+      welcome them you affect the scruples of a pretty woman. But let us go and
+      congratulate the Prince.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      While Cayrol and Herzog were exchanging those few words which had such a
+      considerable influence on the future of Serge Panine&mdash;a scene,
+      terrible in its simplicity, was going on without being noticed. Micheline
+      had thrown herself with a burst of tenderness into her mother&rsquo;s arms.
+      Serge was deeply affected by the young girl&rsquo;s affection for him, when a
+      trembling hand touched his arm. He turned round. Jeanne de Cernay was
+      before him, pale and wan; her eyes sunken into her head like two black
+      nails, and her lips tightened by a violent contraction. The Prince stood
+      thunderstruck at the sight of her. He looked around him. Nobody was
+      observing him. Pierre was beside Marechal, who was whispering those words
+      which only true friends can find in the sad hours of life. Madame
+      Desvarennes was holding Micheline in her arms. Serge approached
+      Mademoiselle de Cernay. Jeanne still fixed on him the same menacing look.
+      He was afraid.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take care!&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of what?&rdquo; asked the young girl, with a troubled voice. &ldquo;What have I to
+      fear now?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you wish?&rdquo; resumed Panine, with old firmness, and with a gesture
+      of impatience.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wish to speak with you immediately.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You see that is impossible.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I must.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cayrol and Herzog approached. Serge smiled at Jeanne with a sign of the
+      head which meant &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo; The young girl turned away in silence, awaiting
+      the fulfilment of the promise made.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cayrol took her by the hand with tender familiarity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What were you saying to the happy man who has gained the object of his
+      dreams, Mademoiselle? It is not to him you must speak, but to me, to give
+      me hope. The moment is propitious; it is the day for betrothals. You know
+      how much I love you; do me the favor of no longer repulsing me as you have
+      done hitherto! If you would be kind, how charming it would be to celebrate
+      the two weddings on the same day. One church, one ceremony, one splendid
+      feast would unite two happy couples. Is there nothing in this picture to
+      entice you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am not easily enticed, as you know,&rdquo; said Jeanne, in a firm voice,
+      trying to smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Micheline and Madame Desvarennes had drawn near.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come, Cayrol,&rdquo; said Serge, in a tone of command; &ldquo;I am happy to-day;
+      perhaps I may succeed in your behalf as I have done in my own. Let me
+      plead your cause with Mademoiselle de Cernay?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;With all my heart. I need an eloquent pleader,&rdquo; sighed the banker,
+      shaking his head sadly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you, Mademoiselle, will you submit to the trial?&rdquo; asked the Prince,
+      turning toward Jeanne. &ldquo;We have always been good friends, and I shall be
+      almost a brother to you. This gives me some right over your mind and
+      heart, it seems to me. Do you authorize me to exercise it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As you like, sir,&rdquo; answered Jeanne, coldly. &ldquo;The attempt is novel. Who
+      knows? Perhaps it will succeed!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;May Heaven grant it,&rdquo; said Cayrol. Then, approaching Panine:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! dear Prince, what gratitude I shall owe you! You know,&rdquo; added he in a
+      whisper, &ldquo;if you need a few thousand louis for wedding presents&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go, go, corrupter!&rdquo; replied Serge, with the same forced gayety; &ldquo;you are
+      flashing your money in front of us. You see it is not invincible, as you
+      are obliged to have recourse to my feeble talents. But know that I am
+      working for glory.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And turning toward Madame Desvarennes he added: &ldquo;I only ask a quarter of
+      an hour.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t defend yourself too much,&rdquo; said Micheline in her companion&rsquo;s ear,
+      and giving her a tender kiss which the latter did not return.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come with me,&rdquo; said Micheline to Pierre, offering him her arm; &ldquo;I want to
+      belong to you alone while Serge is pleading with Jeanne. I will be your
+      sister as formerly. If you only knew how I love you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The large French window which led to the garden had just been opened by
+      Marechal, and the mild odors of a lovely spring night perfumed the
+      drawing-room. They all went out on the lawn. Thousands of stars were
+      twinkling in the sky, and the eyes of Micheline and Pierre were lifted
+      toward the dark blue heavens seeking vaguely for the star which presided
+      over their destiny. She, to know whether her life would be the long poem
+      of love of which she dreamed; he, to ask whether glory, that exacting
+      mistress for whom he had made so many sacrifices, would at least comfort
+      him for his lost love.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      BOOK 2.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VII. JEANNE&rsquo;S SECRET
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      In the drawing-room Jeanne and Serge remained standing, facing each other.
+      The mask had fallen from their faces; the forced smile had disappeared.
+      They looked at each other attentively, like two duellists seeking to read
+      each other&rsquo;s game, so that they may ward off the fatal stroke and prepare
+      the decisive parry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why did you leave for England three weeks ago, without seeing me and
+      without speaking to me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What could I have said to you?&rdquo; replied the Prince, with an air of
+      fatigue and dejection.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne flashed a glance brilliant as lightning:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You could have told me that you had just asked for Micheline&rsquo;s hand!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That would have been brutal!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It would have been honest! But it would have necessitated an explanation,
+      and you don&rsquo;t like explaining. You have preferred leaving me to guess this
+      news from the acts of those around me, and the talk of strangers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      All these words had been spoken by Jeanne with feverish vivacity. The
+      sentences were as cutting as strokes from a whip. The young girl&rsquo;s
+      agitation was violent; her cheeks were red, and her breathing was hard and
+      stifled with emotion. She stopped for a moment; then, turning toward the
+      Prince, and looking him full in the face, she said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And so, this marriage is decided?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge answered,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was fainter than a whisper. As if she could not believe it, Jeanne
+      repeated:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are going to marry Micheline?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And as Panine in a firmer voice answered again, &ldquo;Yes!&rdquo; the young girl took
+      two rapid steps and brought her flushed face close to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I, then?&rdquo; she cried with a violence she could no longer restrain.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge made a sign. The drawing-room window was still open, and from
+      outside they could be heard.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Jeanne, in mercy calm yourself,&rdquo; replied he. &ldquo;You are in a state of
+      excitement.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Which makes you uncomfortable?&rdquo; interrupted the young girl mockingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, but for your sake only,&rdquo; said he, coldly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For mine?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly. I fear your committing an imprudence which might harm you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; but you with me! And it is that only which makes you afraid.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince looked at Mademoiselle de Cernay, smilingly. Changing his tone,
+      he took her hand in his.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How naughty you are to-night! And what temper you are showing toward poor
+      Serge! What an opinion he will have of himself after your displaying such
+      a flattering scene of jealousy!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne drew away her hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, don&rsquo;t try to joke. This is not the moment, I assure you. You don&rsquo;t
+      exactly realize your situation. Don&rsquo;t you understand that I am prepared to
+      tell Madame Desvarennes everything&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Everything!&rdquo; said the Prince. &ldquo;In truth, it would not amount to much. You
+      would tell her that I met you in England; that I courted you, and that you
+      found my attentions agreeable. And then? It pleases you to think too
+      seriously of that midsummer night&rsquo;s dream under the great trees of
+      Churchill Castle, and you reproach me for my errors! But what are they?
+      Seriously, I do not see them! We lived in a noisy world; where we enjoyed
+      the liberty which English manners allow to young people. Your aunt found
+      no fault with the charming chatter which the English call flirtation. I
+      told you I loved you; you allowed me to think that I was not displeasing
+      to you. We, thanks to that delightful agreement, spent a most agreeable
+      summer, and now you do not wish to put an end to that pleasant little
+      excursion made beyond the limits drawn by our Parisian world, so severe,
+      whatever people say about it. It is not reasonable, and it is imprudent.
+      If you carry out your menacing propositions, and if you take my future
+      mother-in-law as judge of the rights which you claim, don&rsquo;t you understand
+      that you would be condemned beforehand? Her interests are directly opposed
+      to yours. Could she hesitate between her daughter and you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh! your calculations are clever and your measures were well taken,&rdquo;
+       replied Jeanne. &ldquo;Still, if Madame Desvarennes were not the woman you think
+      her&mdash;&rdquo; Then, hesitating:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If she took my part, and thinking that he who was an unloyal lover would
+      be an unfaithful husband&mdash;she would augur of the future of her
+      daughter by my experience; and what would happen?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Simply this,&rdquo; returned Serge. &ldquo;Weary of the precarious and hazardous life
+      which I lead, I would leave for Austria, and rejoin the service. A uniform
+      is the only garb which can hide poverty honorably.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne looked at him with anguish; and making an effort said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then, in any case, for me it is abandonment?&rdquo; And falling upon a seat,
+      she hid her face in her hands. Panine remained silent for a moment. The
+      young girl&rsquo;s, grief, which he knew to be sincere, troubled him more than
+      he wished to show. He had loved Mademoiselle de Cernay, and he loved her
+      still. But he felt that a sign of weakness on his part would place him at
+      Jeanne&rsquo;s mercy, and that an avowal from his lips at this grave moment
+      meant a breaking-off of his marriage with Micheline. He hardened himself
+      against his impressions, and replied, with insinuating sweetness:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why do you speak of desertion, when a good man who loves you fondly, and
+      who possesses a handsome fortune, wishes to marry you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mademoiselle de Cernay raised her head, hastily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So, it is you who advise me to marry Monsieur Cayrol? Is there nothing
+      revolting to you in the idea that I should follow your advice? But then,
+      you deceived me from the first moment you spoke to me. You have never
+      loved me even for a day! Not an hour!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge smiled, and resuming his light, caressing tone, replied:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear Jeanne, if I had a hundred thousand francs a year, I give you my
+      word of honor that I would not marry another woman but you, for you would
+      make an adorable Princess.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mademoiselle de Cernay made a gesture of perfect indifference.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! what does the title matter to me?&rdquo; she exclaimed, with passion. &ldquo;What
+      I want is you! Nothing but you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You do not know what you ask. I love you far too much to associate you
+      with my destiny. If you knew that gilded misery, that white kid-gloved
+      poverty, which is my lot, you would be frightened, and you would
+      understand that in my resolution to give you up there is much of
+      tenderness and generosity. Do you think it is such an easy matter to give
+      up a woman so adorable as you are? I resign myself to it, though.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What could I do with my beautiful Jeanne in the three rooms in the Rue de
+      Madame where I live? Could I, with the ten or twelve thousand francs which
+      I receive through the liberality of the Russian Panines, provide a home? I
+      can hardly make it do for myself. I live at the club, where I dine
+      cheaply. I ride my friends&rsquo; horses! I never touch a card, although I love
+      play. I go much in society; I shine there, and walk home to save the cost
+      of a carriage. My door-keeper cleans my rooms and keeps my linen in order.
+      My private life is sad, dull, and humiliating. It is the black chrysalis
+      of the bright butterfly which you know. That is what Prince Panine is, my
+      dear Jeanne. A gentleman of good appearance, who lives as carefully as an
+      old maid. The world sees him elegant and happy, and its envies his luxury;
+      but this luxury is as deluding as watch-chains made of pinchbeck. You
+      understand now that I cannot seriously ask you to share such an
+      existence.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But if, with this sketch of his life, correctly described, Panine thought
+      to turn the young girl against him, he was mistaken. He had counted
+      without considering Jeanne&rsquo;s sanguine temperament, which would lead her to
+      make any sacrifices to keep the man she adored.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you were rich, Serge,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;I would not have made an effort to
+      bring you back to me. But you are poor and I have a right to tell you that
+      I love you. Life with you would be all devotedness and self-denial. Each
+      pain endured would be a proof of love, and that is why I wish to suffer.
+      Your life with mine would be neither sad nor humiliated; I would make it
+      sweet by my tenderness, and bright by my happiness. And we should be so
+      happy that you would say, &lsquo;How could I ever have dreamed of anything
+      else?&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Alas! Jeanne,&rdquo; replied the Prince; &ldquo;it is a charming and poetic idyl
+      which you present to me. We should flee far from the world, eh? We should
+      go to an unknown spot and try to regain paradise lost. How long would that
+      happiness last? A season during the springtime of our youth. Then autumn
+      would come, sad and harsh. Our illusions would vanish like the swallows in
+      romances, and we should find, with alarm, that we had taken the dream of a
+      day for eternal happiness! Forgive my speaking plain words of
+      disenchantment,&rdquo; added Serge, seeing Jeanne rising abruptly, &ldquo;but our life
+      is being settled at this moment. Reason alone should guide us.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I beseech you to be guided only by your heart,&rdquo; cried Mademoiselle de
+      Cernay, seizing the hands of the Prince, and pressing them with her
+      trembling fingers. &ldquo;Remember that you loved me. Say that you love me
+      still!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne had drawn near to Serge. Her burning face almost touched his. Her
+      eyes, bright with excitement, pleaded passionately for a tender look. She
+      was most fascinating, and Panine, usually master of himself, lost his
+      presence of mind for a moment. His arms encircled the shoulders of the
+      adorable pleader, and his lips were buried in the masses of her dark hair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Serge!&rdquo; cried Mademoiselle de Cernay, clinging to him whom she loved so
+      fondly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But the Prince was as quickly calmed as he had been carried away. He
+      gently put Jeanne aside.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You see,&rdquo; he said with a smile, &ldquo;how unreasonable we are and how easily
+      we might commit an irreparable folly. And yet our means will not allow
+      us.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In mercy do not leave me!&rdquo; pleaded Jeanne, in a tone of despair. &ldquo;You
+      love me! I feel it; everything tells me so! And you would desert me
+      because you are poor and I am not rich. Is a man ever poor when he has two
+      arms? Work.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The word was uttered by Jeanne with admirable energy. She possessed the
+      courage to overcome every difficulty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge trembled. For the second time he felt touched to the very soul by
+      this strange girl. He understood that he must not leave her with the
+      slightest hope of encouragement, but throw ice on the fire which was
+      devouring her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear Jeanne,&rdquo; he said, with affectionate sweetness, &ldquo;you are talking
+      nonsense. Remember this, that for Prince Panine there are only three
+      social conditions possible: to be rich, a soldier, or a priest. I have the
+      choice. It is for you to decide.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This put an end to Mademoiselle de Cernay&rsquo;s resistance. She felt how
+      useless was further argument, and falling on a sofa, crushed with grief,
+      cried:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! this time it is finished; I am lost!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Panine, then, approaching her, insinuating and supple, like the serpent
+      with the first woman, murmured in her ear, as if afraid lest his words, in
+      being spoken aloud, would lose their subtle venom:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, you are not lost. On the contrary, you are saved, if you will only
+      listen to and understand me. What are we, you and I? You, a child adopted
+      by a generous woman; I, a ruined nobleman. You live in luxury, thanks to
+      Madame Desvarennes&rsquo;s liberality. I can scarcely manage to keep myself with
+      the help of my family. Our present is precarious, our future hazardous.
+      And, suddenly, fortune is within our grasp. We have only to stretch out
+      our hands, and with one stroke we gain the uncontested power which money
+      brings!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Riches, that aim of humanity! Do you understand? We, the weak and
+      disdained, become strong and powerful. And what is necessary to gain them?
+      A flash of sense; a minute of wisdom; forget a dream and accept a
+      reality.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne waited till he had finished. A bitter smile played on her lips.
+      Henceforth she would believe in no one. After listening to what Serge had
+      just said, she could listen to anything.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;the dream is love; the reality is interest. And is it you
+      who speak thus to me? You, for whom I was prepared to endure any
+      sacrifice! You, whom I would have served on my knees! And what reason do
+      you give to justify your conduct? Money! Indispensable and stupid money!
+      Nothing but money! But it is odious, infamous, low!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge received this terrible broadside of abuse without flinching. He had
+      armed himself against contempt, and was deaf to all insults. Jeanne went
+      on with increasing rage:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Micheline has everything: family, fortune, and friends, and she is taking
+      away my one possession&mdash;your love. Tell me that you love her! It will
+      be more cruel but less vile! But no, it is not possible! You gave way to
+      temptation at seeing her so rich; you had a feeling of covetousness, but
+      you will become yourself again and will act like an honest man. Think,
+      that in my eyes you are dishonoring yourself! Serge, answer me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She clung to him again, and tried to regain him by her ardor, to warm him
+      with her passion. He remained unmoved, silent, and cold. Her conscience
+      rebelled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, then,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;marry her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She remained silent and sullen, seeming to forget he was there. She was
+      thinking deeply. Then she walked wildly up and down the room, saying:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So, it is that implacable self-interest with which I have just come in
+      contact, which is the law of the world, the watchword of society! So, in
+      refusing to share the common folly, I risk remaining in isolation, and I
+      must be strong to make others stand in awe of me. Very well, then, I shall
+      henceforth act in such a manner as to be neither dupe nor victim. In
+      future, everything will be: self, and woe to him who hinders me. That is
+      the morality of the age, is it not?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And she laughed nervously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Was I not stupid? Come, Prince, you have made me clever. Many thanks for
+      the lesson; it was difficult, but I shall profit by it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince, astonished at the sudden change, listened to Jeanne with
+      stupor. He did not yet quite understand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you intend to do?&rdquo; asked he.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne looked at him with a fiendish expression. Her eyes sparkled like
+      stars; her white teeth shone between her lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I intend,&rdquo; replied she, &ldquo;to lay the foundation of my power, and to follow
+      your advice, by marrying a millionaire!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She ran to the window, and, looking out toward the shady garden, called:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur Cayrol!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge, full of surprise, and seized by a sudden fit of jealousy, went
+      toward her as if to recall her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Jeanne,&rdquo; said he, vaguely holding out his arms.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well! what is it?&rdquo; she asked, with crushing haughtiness. &ldquo;Are you
+      frightened at having gained your cause so quickly?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And as Serge did not speak:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come,&rdquo; added she, &ldquo;you will have a handsome fee; Micheline&rsquo;s dower will
+      be worth the trouble you have had.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They heard Cayrol&rsquo;s hurried steps ascending the stairs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have done me the honor to call me, Mademoiselle,&rdquo; said he, remaining
+      on the threshold of the drawing-room. &ldquo;Am I fortunate enough at length to
+      have found favor in your eyes?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here is my hand,&rdquo; said Mademoiselle de Cernay, simply tendering him her
+      white taper fingers, which he covered with kisses.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes had come in behind the banker. She uttered a joyous
+      exclamation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Cayrol, you shall not marry Jeanne for her beauty alone. I will give her
+      a dower.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Micheline fell on her companion&rsquo;s neck. It was a concert of
+      congratulations. But Jeanne, with a serious air, led Cayrol aside:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wish to act honestly toward you, sir; I yield to the pleading of which
+      I am the object. But you must know that my sentiments do not change so
+      quickly. It is my hand only which I give you today.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have not the conceitedness to think that you love me, Mademoiselle,&rdquo;
+       said Cayrol, humbly. &ldquo;You give me your hand; it will be for me to gain
+      your heart, and with time and sincere affection I do not despair of
+      winning it. I am truly happy, believe me, for the favor you do me, and all
+      my life long shall be spent in proving my gratitude to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne was moved; she glanced at Cayrol, and did not think him so
+      common-looking as usual. She resolved to do all in her power to like this
+      good man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge, in taking leave of Madame Desvarennes, said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In exchange for all the happiness which you give me, I have only my life
+      to offer; accept it, Madame, it is yours.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The mistress looked at the Prince deeply; then, in a singular tone, said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I accept it; from to-day you belong to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Marechal took Pierre by the arm and led him outside.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Prince has just uttered words which remind me of Antonio saying to
+      the Jew in &lsquo;The Merchant of Venice&rsquo;: &lsquo;Thy ducats in exchange for a pound
+      of my flesh.&rsquo; Madame Desvarennes loves her daughter with a more formidable
+      love than Shylock had for his gold. The Prince will do well to be exact in
+      his payments of the happiness which he has promised.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VIII. A PLEASANT UNDERSTANDING
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The day following this memorable evening, Pierre left for Algeria,
+      notwithstanding the prayers of Madame Desvarennes who wished to keep him
+      near her. He was going to finish his labors. He promised to return in time
+      for the wedding. The mistress, wishing to give him some compensation,
+      offered him the management of the mills at Jouy, saying:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So that if you are not my son, you will be at least my partner. And if I
+      do not leave you all my money at my death, I can enrich you during my
+      life.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pierre would not accept. He would not have it said that in wishing to
+      marry Micheline he had tried to make a speculation. He wished to leave
+      that house where he had hoped to spend his life, empty-handed, so that no
+      one could doubt that it was the woman he loved in Micheline and not the
+      heiress. He had been offered a splendid appointment in Savoy as manager of
+      some mines; he would find there at the same time profit and happiness,
+      because there were interesting scientific studies to be made in order to
+      enable him to carry on the work creditably. He resolved to throw himself
+      heart and soul into the work and seek forgetfulness in study.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the mansion of the Rue Saint-Dominique the marriage preparations were
+      carried on with great despatch. On the one side the Prince, and on the
+      other Cayrol, were eager for the day: the one because he saw the
+      realization of his ambitious dreams, the other because he loved so madly.
+      Serge, gracious and attentive, allowed himself to be adored by Micheline,
+      who was never weary of listening to and looking at him whom she loved. It
+      was a sort of delirium that had taken possession of the young girl. Madame
+      Desvarennes looked on the metamorphosis in her child with amazement. The
+      old Micheline, naturally indolent and cold, just living with the indolence
+      of an odalisque stretched on silk cushions, had changed into a lively,
+      loving sweetheart, with sparkling eyes and cheerful lips. Like those
+      lowers which the sun causes to bloom and be fragrant, so Micheline under a
+      look from Serge became animated and grown handsomer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The mother looked on with bitterness; she spoke of this transformation in
+      her child with ironical disdain, She was sure Micheline was not in
+      earnest; only a doll was capable of falling in love so foolishly with a
+      man for his personal beauty. For to her mind the Prince was as regards
+      mental power painfully deficient. No sense, dumb as soon as the
+      conversation took a serious turn, only able to talk dress like a woman, or
+      about horses like a jockey. And it was such a person upon whom Micheline
+      literally doted! The mistress felt humiliated; she dared not say anything
+      to her daughter, but she relieved herself in company of Marechal, whose
+      discretion she could trust, and whom she willingly called the tomb of her
+      secrets.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Marechal listened patiently to the confidences of Madame Desvarennes, and
+      he tried to fight against the growing animosity of the mistress toward her
+      future son-in-law. Not that he liked the Prince&mdash;he was too much on
+      Pierre&rsquo;s side to be well disposed toward Panine; but with his good sense
+      he saw that Madame Desvarennes would find it advantageous to overcome her
+      feeling of dislike. And when the mistress, so formidable toward everybody
+      except her daughter, cried with rage:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That Micheline! I have just seen her again in the garden, hanging on the
+      arm of that great lanky fellow, her eyes fixed on his like a lark
+      fascinated by a looking-glass. What on earth has happened to her that she
+      should be in such a state?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Marechal interrupted her gently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All fair people are like that,&rdquo; he affirmed with ironical gayety. &ldquo;You
+      cannot understand it, Madame; you are dark.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Then Madame Desvarennes became angry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be quiet,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;you are stupid! She ought to have a shower-bath!
+      She is mad!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As for Cayrol he lived in ecstasy, like an Italian kneeling before a
+      madonna. He had never been so happy; he was overwhelmed with joy. Until
+      then, he had only thought of business matters. To be rich was the aim of
+      his life; and now he was going to work for happiness. It was all pleasure
+      for him. He was not blase; he amused himself like a child, adorning the
+      rooms which were to be occupied by Jeanne. To his mind nothing was too
+      expensive for the temple of his goddess, as he said, with a loud laugh
+      which lighted up his whole face. And when he spoke of his love&rsquo;s future
+      nest, he exclaimed, with a voluptuous shiver:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is charming; a veritable little paradise!&rdquo; Then the financier shone
+      through all, and he added:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I know what it costs!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But he did not grudge his money. He knew he would get the interest of it
+      back. On one subject he was anxious&mdash;Mademoiselle de Cernay&rsquo;s health.
+      Since the day of their engagement, Jeanne had become more serious and
+      dull. She had grown thin and her eyes were sunken as if she wept in
+      secret. When he spoke of his fears to Madame Desvarennes, the latter said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;These young girls are so senseless. The notion of marriage puts them in
+      such an incomprehensible state! Look at my daughter. She chatters like a
+      magpie and skips about like a kid. She has two glow-worms under her
+      eyelids! As to Jeanne, that&rsquo;s another affair; she has the matrimonial
+      melancholy, and has the air of a young victim. Leave them alone; it will
+      all come right. But you must admit that the gayety of the one is at least
+      as irritating as the languor of the other!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cayrol, somewhat reassured by this explanation, and thinking, like her,
+      that it was the uncertainties of marriage which were troubling Jeanne, no
+      longer attached any importance to her sad appearance. Micheline and Serge
+      isolated themselves completely. They fled to the garden as soon as any one
+      ventured into the drawing room, to interrupt their tete-a-tete. If
+      visitors came to the garden they took refuge in the conservatory.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This manoeuvre pleased Serge, because he always felt uncomfortable in
+      Jeanne&rsquo;s presence. Mademoiselle de Cernay had a peculiar wrinkle on her
+      brow whenever she saw Micheline passing before her hanging on the arm of
+      the Prince, which tormented him. They were obliged to meet at table in the
+      evening, for Serge and Cayrol dined at the Rue Saint-Dominique. The Prince
+      talked in whispers to Micheline, but every now and then he was obliged to
+      speak to Jeanne. These were painful moments to Serge. He was always in
+      dread of some outburst, knowing her ardent and passionate nature. Thus,
+      before Jeanne, he made Micheline behave in a less demonstrative manner.
+      Mademoiselle Desvarennes was proud of this reserve, and thought it was
+      tact and good breeding on the part of the Prince, without doubting that
+      what she thought reserve in the man of the world was the prudence of an
+      anxious lover.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne endured the tortures of Hades. Too proud to say anything after the
+      explanation she had had with Serge, too much smitten to bear calmly the
+      sight of her rival&rsquo;s happiness, she saw draw near with deep horror the
+      moment when she would belong to the man whom she had determined to marry
+      although she did not love him. She once thought of breaking off the
+      engagement; as she could not belong to the man whom she adored, at least
+      she could belong to herself. But the thought of the struggle she would
+      have to sustain with those who surrounded her, stopped her. What would she
+      do at Madame Desvarennes&rsquo;s? She would have to witness the happiness of
+      Micheline and Serge. She would rather leave the house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With Cayrol at least she could go away; she would be free, and perhaps the
+      esteem which she would surely have for her husband would do instead of
+      love. Sisterly or filial love, in fact the least affection, would satisfy
+      the poor man, who was willing to accept anything from Jeanne. And she
+      would not have that group of Serge and Micheline before her eyes, always
+      walking round the lawn and disappearing arm in arm down the narrow walks.
+      She would not have the continual murmur of their love-making in her ears,
+      a murmur broken by the sound of kisses when they reached shady corners.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One evening, when Serge appeared in the little drawing-room of the Rue
+      Saint-Dominique, he found Madame Desvarennes alone. She looked serious, as
+      if same important business were pending. She stood before the fireplace;
+      her hands crossed behind her back like a man. Apparently, she had sought
+      to be alone. Cayrol, Jeanne, and Micheline were in the garden. Serge felt
+      uneasy. He had a presentiment of trouble. But determined to make the best
+      of it, whatever it might be, he looked pleasant and bowed to Madame
+      Desvarennes, without his face betraying his uneasiness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good-day, Prince; you are early this evening, though not so early as
+      Cayrol; but then he does not quite know what he is doing now. Sit down, I
+      want to talk to you. You know that a young lady like Mademoiselle
+      Desvarennes cannot get married without her engagement being much talked
+      about. Tongues have been very busy, and pens too. I have heard a lot of
+      scandal and have received heaps of anonymous letters about you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge gave a start of indignation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t be uneasy,&rdquo; continued the mistress. &ldquo;I did not heed the tales, and
+      I burned the letters. Some said you were a dissolute man, capable of
+      anything to gain your object. Others insinuated that you were not a
+      Prince, that you were not a Pole, but the son of a Russian coachman and a
+      little dressmaker of Les Ternes; that you had lived at the expense of
+      Mademoiselle Anna Monplaisir, the star of the Varietes Theatre, and that
+      you were bent on marrying to pay your debts with my daughter&rsquo;s money.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Panine, pale as death, rose up and said, in a stifled voice:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sit down, my dear child,&rdquo; interrupted the mistress. &ldquo;If I tell you these
+      things, it is because I have the proofs that they are untrue. Otherwise, I
+      would not have given myself the trouble to talk to you about them. I would
+      have shown you the door and there would have been an end of it. Certainly,
+      you are not an angel; but the peccadillos which you have been guilty of
+      are those which one forgives in a son, and which in a son-in-law makes
+      some mothers smile. You are a Prince, you are handsome, and you have been
+      loved. You were then a bachelor; and it was your own affair. But now, you
+      are going to be, in about ten days, the husband of my daughter, and it is
+      necessary for us to make certain arrangements. Therefore, I waited to see
+      you, to speak of your wife, of yourself, and of me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      What Madame Desvarennes had just said relieved Serge of a great weight. He
+      felt so happy that he resolved to do everything in his power to please the
+      mother of his betrothed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Speak, Madame,&rdquo; he exclaimed. &ldquo;I am listening to you with attention and
+      confidence. I am sure that from you I can only expect goodness and sense.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The mistress smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I know you have a gilt tongue, my handsome friend, but I don&rsquo;t pay
+      myself with words, and I, am not easy to be wheedled.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Faith,&rdquo; said Serge, &ldquo;I won&rsquo;t deceive you. I will try to please you with
+      all my heart.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes&rsquo;s face brightened as suddenly at these words as a
+      landscape, wrapped in a fog, which is suddenly lighted up by the sun.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then we shall understand each other,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;For the last fortnight
+      we have been busy with marriage preparations, and have not been able to
+      think or reason. Everybody is rambling about here. Still, we are
+      commencing a new life, and I think it is as well to lay the foundation. I
+      seem to be drawing up a contract, eh? What can I do? It is an old business
+      habit. I like to know how I stand.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think it is quite right. I think, too, that you have acted with great
+      delicacy in not imposing your conditions upon me before giving your
+      consent.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Has that made you feel better disposed toward me? So much the better!&rdquo;
+       said the mistress. &ldquo;Because you know that I depend on my daughter, who
+      will henceforth depend on you, and it is to my interest that I should be
+      in your good graces.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In pronouncing these words with forced cheerfulness, Madame Desvarennes&rsquo;s
+      voice trembled slightly. She knew what an important game she was playing,
+      and wished to win it at any price.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You see,&rdquo; continued she, &ldquo;I am not an easy woman to deal with. I am a
+      little despotic, I know. I have been in the habit of commanding during the
+      last thirty-five years. Business was heavy, and required a strong will. I
+      had it, and the habit is formed. But this strong will, which has served me
+      so well in business will, I am afraid, with you, play me some trick. Those
+      who have lived with me a long time know that if I am hot-headed I have a
+      good heart. They submit to my tyranny; but you who are a newcomer, how
+      will you like it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall do as the others do,&rdquo; said Serge, simply. &ldquo;I shall be led, and
+      with pleasure. Think that I have lived for years without kindred, without
+      ties&mdash;at random; and, believe me, any chain will be light and sweet
+      which holds me to any one or anything. And then,&rdquo; frankly added he,
+      changing his tone and looking at Madame Desvarennes with tenderness, &ldquo;if I
+      did not do everything to please you I should be ungrateful.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; cried Madame Desvarennes, &ldquo;unfortunately that is not a reason.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Would you have a better one?&rdquo; said the young man, in his most charming
+      accent. &ldquo;If I had not married your daughter for her own sake, I believe
+      that I should have married her for yours.&rdquo; Madame Desvarennes was quite
+      pleased, and shaking her finger threateningly at Serge, said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, you Pole, you boaster of the North!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Seriously,&rdquo; continued Serge, &ldquo;before I knew I was to be your son-in-law,
+      I thought you a matchless woman. Add to the admiration I had for your
+      great qualities the affection which your goodness has inspired, and you
+      will understand that I am both proud and happy to have such a mother as
+      you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes looked at Panine attentively; she saw he was sincere.
+      Then, taking courage, she touched the topic of greatest interest to her.
+      &ldquo;If that is the case, you will have no objections to live with me?&rdquo; She
+      stopped; then emphasized the words, &ldquo;With me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But was not that understood?&rdquo; asked Serge, gayly&rsquo; &ldquo;I thought so. You must
+      have seen that I have not been seeking a dwelling for my wife and myself.
+      If you had not made the offer to me, I should have asked you to let me
+      stay with you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes broke into such an outburst of joy that she astonished
+      Panine. It was then only that in that pallor, in that sudden trembling, in
+      that changed voice, he understood, the immensity of the mother&rsquo;s love for
+      her daughter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have everything to gain by that arrangement,&rdquo; continued he. &ldquo;My wife
+      will be happy at not leaving you, and you will be pleased at my not having
+      taken away your daughter. You will both like me better, and that is all I
+      wish.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How good you are in deciding thus, and how I thank you for it,&rdquo; resumed
+      Madame Desvarennes. &ldquo;I feared you would have ideas of independence.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I should have been happy to sacrifice them to you, but I have not even
+      that merit.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      All that Serge had said had been so open and plain, and expressed with
+      such sweetness that, little by little, Madame Desvarennes&rsquo;s prejudices
+      disappeared. He took possession of her as he had done of Micheline, and as
+      he did of every one whom he wished to conquer. His charm was irresistible.
+      He seized on one by the eyes and the ears. Naturally fascinating, moving,
+      captivating, bold, he always preserved his artless and tender ways, which
+      made him resemble a young girl.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am going to tell you how we shall manage,&rdquo; said the mistress.
+      &ldquo;Foreseeing my daughter&rsquo;s marriage, I have had my house divided into two
+      distinct establishments. They say that life in common with a mother-in-law
+      is objectionable to a son-in-law, therefore I wish you to have a home of
+      your own. I know that an old face like mine frightens young lovers. I will
+      come to you when you invite me. But even when I am shut up in my own
+      apartments I shall be with my daughter; I shall breathe the same air; I
+      shall hear her going and coming, singing, laughing, and I shall say to
+      myself, &lsquo;It is all right, she is happy.&rsquo; That is all I ask. A little
+      corner, whence I can share her life.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge took her hand with effusion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t be afraid; your daughter will not leave you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes, unable to contain her feelings, opened her arms, and
+      Serge fell on her breast, like a true son.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you know, I am going to adore you!&rdquo; cried Madame Desvarennes, showing
+      Panine a face beaming with happiness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I hope so,&rdquo; said the young man, gayly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes became thoughtful.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What a strange thing life is!&rdquo; resumed she. &ldquo;I did not want you for a
+      son-in-law, and now you are behaving so well toward me that I am full of
+      remorse. Oh, I see now what a dangerous man you are, if you captivate
+      other women&rsquo;s hearts as you have caught mine.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She looked at the Prince fixedly, and added, in her clear commanding
+      voice, with a shade of gayety:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, I hope you will reserve all your powers of charming for my daughter.
+      No more flirting, eh? She loves you; she would be jealous, and you would
+      get into hot water with me! Let Micheline&rsquo;s life be happy, without a
+      cloud-blue, always blue sky!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That will be easy,&rdquo; said Serge. &ldquo;To be unhappy I should have to seek
+      misfortune; and I certainly shall not do that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He began to laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Besides, your good friends who criticised so when you gave me Micheline&rsquo;s
+      hand would be only too pleased. I will not give them the pleasure of
+      posing as prophets and saying, &lsquo;We knew it would be so!&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You must forgive them,&rdquo; replied Madame Desvarennes. &ldquo;You have made
+      enemies. Without speaking of projects which I had formed, I may say that
+      my daughter has had offers from the best folks in Paris; from first-rate
+      firms! Our circle was rather indignant.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;People said: &lsquo;Oh, Madame Desvarennes wanted her daughter to be a
+      Princess. We shall see how it will turn out. Her son-in-law will spend her
+      money and spurn her.&rsquo; The gossip of disappointed people. Give them the
+      lie; manage that we shall all live together, and we shall be right against
+      the world.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you hope it will be so?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am sure of it,&rdquo; answered the mistress, affectionately pressing the hand
+      of her future son-in-law.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Micheline entered, anxious at the long interview between Serge and her
+      mother. She saw them hand in hand. She uttered a joyful cry, and threw her
+      arms caressingly round her mother&rsquo;s neck.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well! you are agreed?&rdquo; she said, making a gracious sign to Serge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He has been charming,&rdquo; replied Madame Desvarennes, whispering in her
+      daughter&rsquo;s ear. &ldquo;He agrees to live in this house, and that quite
+      gracefully. There, child, this is the happiest moment I&rsquo;ve had since your
+      engagement. I admit that I regret nothing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Then, resuming aloud:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We will leave to-morrow for Cernay, where the marriage shall take place.
+      I shall have to order the workmen in here to get ready for your reception.
+      Besides the wedding will be more brilliant in the country. We shall have
+      all the work-people there. We will throw the park open to the countryside;
+      it will be a grand fete. For we are lords of the manor there,&rdquo; added she,
+      with pride.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are right, mamma; it will be far better,&rdquo; exclaimed Micheline. And
+      taking Serge by the hand:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come, let us go,&rdquo; said she, and led him into the garden.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And amid the sweet-smelling shrubs they resumed their walk, always the
+      same yet ever new, their arms twined round each other, the young girl
+      clinging to him whom she loved, and he looking fondly at her, and with
+      caressing voice telling her the oft-told tale of love which she was never
+      tired of hearing, and which always filled her with thrills of joy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER IX. THE DOUBLE MARRIAGE
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The Chateau of Cernay is a vast and beautiful structure of the time of
+      Louis XIII. A walled park of a hundred acres surrounds it, with trees
+      centuries old. A white painted gate separates the avenue from the road
+      leading to Pontoise by way of Conflans. A carpet of grass, on which
+      carriages roll as if on velvet, leads up to the park gates. Before
+      reaching, it there is a stone bridge which spans the moat of running
+      water. A lodge of stone, faced with brick, with large windows, rises at
+      each corner of this space.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The chateau, surrounded by cleverly arranged trees, stands in the centre,
+      on a solid foundation of red granite from the Jura. A splendid double
+      staircase leads to the ground floor as high as an &lsquo;entresol&rsquo;. A spacious
+      hall, rising to the roof of the building, lighted by a window filled with
+      old stained glass, first offers itself to the visitor. A large organ, by
+      Cavallie-Col, rears its long brilliant pipes at one end of the hall to a
+      level with the gallery of sculptured wood running round and forming a
+      balcony on the first floor. At each corner is a knight in armor, helmet on
+      head, and lance in hand, mounted on a charger, and covered with the heavy
+      trappings of war. Cases full of objects of art of great value, bookshelves
+      containing all the new books, are placed along the walls. A billiard-table
+      and all sorts of games are lodged under the vast staircase. The broad bays
+      which give admission to the reception-rooms and grand staircase are closed
+      by tapestry of the fifteenth century, representing hunting scenes. Long
+      cords of silk and gold loop back these marvellous hangings in the Italian
+      style. Thick carpets, into which the feet sink, deaden the sound of
+      footsteps. Spacious divans, covered with Oriental materials, are placed
+      round the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Over the chimney-piece, which is splendidly carved in woodwork, is a
+      looking-glass in the Renaissance style, with a bronze and silver frame,
+      representing grinning fawns and dishevelled nymphs. Benches are placed
+      round the hearth, which is large enough to hold six people. Above the
+      divans, on the walls, are large oil-paintings by old masters. An
+      &ldquo;Assumption,&rdquo; by Jordaens, which is a masterpiece; &ldquo;The Gamesters,&rdquo; by
+      Valentin; &ldquo;A Spanish Family on Horseback,&rdquo; painted by Velasquez; and the
+      marvel of the collection&mdash;a &ldquo;Holy Family,&rdquo; by Francia, bought in
+      Russia. Then, lower down, &ldquo;A Young Girl with a Canary,&rdquo; by Metzu; a
+      &ldquo;Kermesse,&rdquo; by Braurver, a perfect treasure, glitter, like the gems they
+      are, in the midst of panoplies, between the high branches of palm-trees
+      planted in enormous delft vases. A mysterious light filters into that
+      fresh and picturesque apartment through the stained-glass windows.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      From the hall the left wing is reached, where the reception-rooms are, and
+      one&rsquo;s eyes are dazzled by the brightness which reigns there. It is like
+      coming out from a cathedral into broad daylight. The furniture, of gilt
+      wood and Genoese velvet, looks very bright. The walls are white and gold;
+      and flowers are everywhere. At the end is Madame Desvarennes&rsquo;s bedroom,
+      because she does not like mounting stairs, and lives on the ground floor.
+      Adjoining it is a conservatory, furnished as a drawing-room, and serving
+      as a boudoir for the mistress of the house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The dining-room, the gun-room, and the smoking-room are in the right wing.
+      The gun-room deserves a particular description. Four glass cases contain
+      guns of every description and size of the best English and French
+      manufacture. All the furniture is made of stags&rsquo; horns, covered with
+      fox-skins and wolf-skins. A large rug, formed by four bears&rsquo; skins, with
+      menacing snouts, showing their white teeth at the four corners, is in the
+      centre of the room. On the walls are four paintings by Princeteau,
+      admirably executed, and representing hunting scenes. Low couches, wide as
+      beds, covered with gray cloth, invite the sportsmen to rest. Large
+      dressing-rooms, fitted up with hot and cold water, invite them to refresh
+      themselves with a bath. Everything has been done to suit the most
+      fastidious taste. The kitchens are underground.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On the first story are the principal rooms. Twelve bedrooms, with
+      dressing-rooms, upholstered in chintz of charming design. From these, a
+      splendid view of the park and country beyond may be obtained. In the
+      foreground is a piece of water, bathing, with its rapid current, the
+      grassy banks which border the wood, while the low-lying branches of the
+      trees dip into the flood, on which swans, dazzlingly white, swim in
+      stately fashion. Beneath an old willow, whose drooping boughs form quite a
+      vault of pale verdure, a squadron of multicolored boats remain fastened to
+      the balustrade of a landing stage. Through an opening in the trees you see
+      in the distance fields of yellow corn, and in the near background, behind
+      a row of poplars, ever moving like a flash of silver lightning, the Oise
+      flows on between its low banks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This sumptuous dwelling, on the evening of the 14th of July, was in its
+      greatest splendor. The trees of the park were lit up by brilliant Venetian
+      lanterns; little boats glided on the water of the lake carrying musicians
+      whose notes echoed through the air. Under a marquee, placed midway in the
+      large avenue, the country lads and lasses were dancing with spirit, while
+      the old people, more calm, were seated under the large trees enjoying the
+      ample fare provided. A tremendous uproar of gayety reechoed through the
+      night, and the sound of the cornet attracted the people to the ball.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was nine o&rsquo;clock. Carriages were fast arriving with guests for the
+      mansion. In the centre of the handsome hall, illuminated with electric
+      light, stood Madame Desvarennes in full dress, having put off black for
+      one day, doing honor to the arrivals. Behind her stood Marechal and
+      Savinien, like two aides-de-camp, ready, at a sign, to offer their arms to
+      the ladies, to conduct them to the drawing-rooms. The gathering was
+      numerous. Merchant-princes came for Madame Desvarennes&rsquo;s sake; bankers for
+      Cayrol&rsquo;s; and the aristocrats and foreign nobility for the Prince&rsquo;s. An
+      assemblage as opposed in ideas as in manners: some valuing only money,
+      others high birth; all proud and elbowing each other with haughty
+      assurance, speaking ill of each other and secretly jealous.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There were heirs of dethroned kings; princes without portions, who were
+      called Highness, and who had not the income of their fathers&rsquo; former
+      chamberlains; millionaires sprung from nothing, who made a great show and
+      who would have given half of their possessions for a single quartering of
+      the arms of these great lords whom they affected to despise.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge and Cayrol went from group to group; the one with his graceful and
+      delicate elegance; the other with his good-humor, radiant and elated by
+      the consciousness of his triumphs. Herzog had just arrived, accompanied by
+      his daughter, a charming girl of sixteen, to whom Marechal had offered his
+      arm. A whispering was heard when Herzog passed. He was accustomed to the
+      effect which he produced in public, and quite calmly congratulated Cayrol.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge had just introduced Micheline to Count Soutzko, a gray-haired old
+      gentleman of military appearance, whose right sleeve was empty. He was a
+      veteran of the Polish wars, and an old friend of Prince Panine&rsquo;s, at whose
+      side he had received the wounds which had so frightfully mutilated him.
+      Micheline, smiling, was listening to flattering tales which the old
+      soldier was relating about Serge. Cayrol, who had got rid of Herzog, was
+      looking for Jeanne, who had just disappeared in the direction of the
+      terrace.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The rooms were uncomfortably warm, and many of the visitors had found
+      their way to the terraces. Along the marble veranda, overlooking the lake,
+      chairs had been placed. The ladies, wrapped in their lace scarfs, had
+      formed into groups and were enjoying the delights of the beautiful
+      evening. Bursts of subdued laughter came from behind fans, while the
+      gentlemen talked in whispers. Above all this whispering was heard the
+      distant sound of the cornet at the peasants&rsquo; ball.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Leaning over the balustrade, in a shady corner, far from the noise which
+      troubled him and far from the fete which hurt him, Pierre was dreaming.
+      His eyes were fixed on the illuminations in the park, but he did not see
+      them. He thought of his vanished hopes. Another was beloved by Micheline,
+      and in a few hours he would take her away, triumphant and happy. A great
+      sadness stole over the young man&rsquo;s spirit; he was disgusted with life and
+      hated humanity. What was to become of him now? His life was shattered; a
+      heart like his could not love twice, and Micheline&rsquo;s image was too deeply
+      engraven on it for it ever to be effaced. Of what use was all the trouble
+      he had taken to raise himself above others? A worthless fellow had passed
+      that way and Micheline had yielded to him. Now it was all over!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And Pierre asked himself if he had not taken a wrong view of things, and
+      if it was not the idle and good-for-nothing fellows who were more prudent
+      than he. To waste his life in superhuman works, to tire his mind in
+      seeking to solve great problems, and to attain old age without other
+      satisfaction than unproductive honors and mercenary rewards. Those who
+      only sought happiness and joy&mdash;epicureans who drive away all care,
+      all pain, and only seek to soften their existence, and brighten their
+      horizon&mdash;were they not true sages? Death comes so quickly! And it is
+      with astonishment that one perceives when the hour is at hand, that one
+      has not lived! Then the voice of pride spoke to him: what is a man who
+      remains useless, and does not leave one trace of his passage through the
+      world by works or discoveries? And, in a state of fever, Pierre said to
+      himself:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will throw myself heart and soul into science; I will make my name
+      famous, and I will make that ungrateful child regret me. She will see the
+      difference between me and him whom she has chosen. She will understand
+      that he is nobody, except by her money, whereas she would have been all by
+      me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A hand was placed on his shoulder; and Marechal&rsquo;s affectionate voice said
+      to him:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well! what are you doing here, gesticulating like that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pierre turned round.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lost in his thoughts he had not heard his friend approaching.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All our guests have arrived,&rdquo; continued Marechal. &ldquo;I have only just been
+      able to leave them and to come to you. I have been seeking you for more
+      than a quarter of an hour. You are wrong to hide yourself; people will
+      make remarks. Come toward the house; it is as well to show yourself a
+      little; people might imagine things which they must not imagine.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh! let them think what they like; what does it matter to me?&rdquo; said
+      Pierre, sadly. &ldquo;My life is a blank.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your life may be a blank; but it is your duty not to let any one perceive
+      it. Imitate the young Spartan, who smiled although the fox, hidden under
+      his cloak, was gnawing his vitals. Let us avoid ridicule, my friend. In
+      society there is nothing that provokes laughter more than a disappointed
+      lover, who rolls his eyes about and looks woe-begone. And, then, you-see,
+      suffering is a human law; the world is an arena, life is a conflict.
+      Material obstacles, moral griefs, all hinder and overwhelm us. We must go
+      on, though, all the same, and fight. Those who give in are trodden down!
+      Come, pull yourself together!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And for whom should I fight now? A moment ago I was making projects, but
+      I was a fool! All hope and ambition are dead in me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ambition will return, you may be sure! At present you are suffering from
+      weariness of mind; but your strength will return. As to hope, one must
+      never despair.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What can I expect in the future?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What? Why, everything! In this world all sorts of things happen!&rdquo; said
+      Marechal, gayly. &ldquo;Who is to prove that the Princess will not be a widow
+      soon?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pierre could not help laughing and said,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come, don&rsquo;t talk such nonsense!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear fellow,&rdquo; concluded Marechal, &ldquo;in life it is only nonsense that is
+      common-sense. Come and smoke a cigar.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They traversed several groups of people and bent their steps in the
+      direction of the chateau. The Prince was advancing toward the terrace,
+      with an elegantly dressed and beautiful woman on his arm. Savinien, in the
+      midst of a circle of dandies, was picking the passers-by to pieces in his
+      easy-going way. Pierre and Marechal came behind these young men without
+      being noticed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who is that hanging on the arm of our dear Prince?&rdquo; asked a little fat
+      man, girt in a white satin waistcoat, and a spray of white lilac in his
+      buttonhole.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh! Why, Le Brede, my boy, you don&rsquo;t know anything!&rdquo; cried Savinien in a
+      bantering, jocose tone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because I don&rsquo;t know that lovely fair woman?&rdquo; said Le Brede, in a piqued
+      voice. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t profess to know the names of all the pretty women in
+      Paris!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In Paris? That woman from Paris? You have not looked at her. Come, open
+      your eyes. Pure English style, my friend.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The dandies roared with laughter. They had at once recognized the pure
+      English style. They were not men to be deceived. One of them, a tall, dark
+      fellow, named Du Tremblays, affected an aggrieved air, and said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Le Brede, my dear fellow, you make us blush for you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince passed, smiling and speaking in a low voice to the beautiful
+      Englishwoman, who was resting the tips of her white gloved fingers on her
+      cavalier&rsquo;s arm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who is she?&rdquo; inquired Le Brede, impatiently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh, my dear fellow, it is Lady Harton, a cousin of the Prince. She is
+      extremely rich, and owns a district in London.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They say that a year ago she was very kind to Serge Panine,&rdquo; added Du
+      Tremblays, confidentially.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why did he not marry her, then, since she is so rich? He has been quite a
+      year in the market, the dear Prince.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She is married.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, that is a good reason. But where is her husband?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shut up in a castle in Scotland. Nobody ever sees him. He is out of his
+      mind; and is surrounded by every attention.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And a strait-waistcoat! Then why does not this pretty woman get a
+      divorce?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The money belongs to the husband.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Really!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pierre and Marechal had listened, in silence, to this cool and yet
+      terrible conversation. The group of young men dispersed. The two friends
+      looked at each other. Thus, then, Serge Panine was judged by his
+      companions in pleasure, by the frequenters of the clubs in which he had
+      spent a part of his existence. The Prince being &ldquo;in the market&rdquo; was
+      obliged to marry a rich woman. He could not marry Lady Harton, so he had
+      sought Micheline. And the sweet child was the wife of such a man! And what
+      could be done? She loved him!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes and Micheline appeared on the terrace. Lady Harton
+      pointed to the bride with her fan. The Prince, leaving his companion,
+      advanced toward Micheline.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One of my English relatives, a Polish lady, married to Lord Harton,
+      wishes to be introduced to you,&rdquo; said Serge. &ldquo;Are you agreeable?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;With all my heart,&rdquo; replied the young wife, looking lovingly at her
+      husband. &ldquo;All who belong to you are dear to me, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The beautiful Englishwoman approached slowly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Princess Panine!&rdquo; said Serge, gravely, introducing Micheline, who
+      bowed gracefully. Then, with a shade of familiarity: &ldquo;Lady Harton!&rdquo;
+       continued he, introducing his relative.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am very fond of your husband, Madame,&rdquo; said the Englishwoman. &ldquo;I hope
+      you will allow me to love you also; and I beg you to grant me the favor of
+      accepting this small remembrance.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      While speaking, she unfastened from her wrist a splendid bracelet with the
+      inscription, Semper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge frowned and looked stern. Micheline, lowering her eyes, and awed by
+      the Englishwoman&rsquo;s grandeur, timidly said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I accept it, Madame, as a token of friendship.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think I recognize this bracelet, Madame,&rdquo; observed Serge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; you gave it to me,&rdquo; replied Lady Harton, quietly. &ldquo;Semper&mdash;I
+      beg your pardon, Madame, we Poles all speak Latin&mdash;Semper means
+      &lsquo;Always!&rsquo; It is a great word. On your wife&rsquo;s arm this bracelet will be
+      well placed. Au revoir, dear Prince. I wish you every happiness.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And bowing to Micheline with a regal bow, Lady Harton took the arm of a
+      tall young man whom she had beckoned, and walked away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Micheline, amazed, looked at the bracelet sparkling on her white wrist.
+      Without uttering a word Serge unfastened it, took it off his wife&rsquo;s arm,
+      and advancing on the terrace, with a rapid movement flung it in the water.
+      The bracelet gleamed in the night-air and made a brilliant splash; then
+      the water resumed its tranquillity. Micheline, astonished, looked at
+      Serge, who came toward her, and very humbly said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I beg your pardon.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The young wife did not answer, but her eyes filled with tears; a smile
+      brightened her lips, and hurriedly taking his arm, she led him into the
+      drawing-room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dancing was going on there. The young ladies of Pontoise, and the cream of
+      Creil, had come to the fete, bent on not losing such an opportunity of
+      enjoying themselves. Under the watchful eyes of their mothers, who, decked
+      out in grand array, were seated along the walls, they were gamboling, in
+      spite of the stifling heat, with all the impetuosity of young provincials
+      habitually deprived of the pleasures of the ballroom. Crossing the room,
+      Micheline and Serge reached Madame Desvarennes&rsquo;s boudoir.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was delightfully cool in there. Cayrol had taken refuge there with
+      Jeanne, and Mademoiselle Susanne Herzog. This young girl felt
+      uncomfortable at being a third party with the newly-married couple, and
+      welcomed the arrival of the Prince and Micheline with pleasure. Her father
+      had left her for a moment in Cayrol&rsquo;s care; but she had not seen him for
+      more than an hour.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mademoiselle,&rdquo; said the Prince, gayly, &ldquo;a little while ago, when I was
+      passing through the rooms, I heard these words: &lsquo;Loan, discount,
+      liquidation.&rsquo; Your father must have been there. Shall I go and seek him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I should be very grateful,&rdquo; said the young girl.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will go.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And turning lightly on his heels, happy to escape Jeanne&rsquo;s looks, Serge
+      reentered the furnace. At once he saw Herzog seated in the corner of a
+      bay-window with one of the principal stock-brokers of Paris. He was
+      speaking. The Prince went straight up to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sorry to draw you away from the sweets of conversation,&rdquo; said he,
+      smiling; &ldquo;but your daughter is waiting for you, and is anxious at your not
+      coming.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Faith! My daughter, yes. I will come and see you tomorrow,&rdquo; said he to
+      his companion. &ldquo;We will talk over this association: there is much to be
+      gained by it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The other, a man with a bloated face, and fair Dundreary whiskers, was
+      eager to do business with him. Certainly the affair was good.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, my dear Prince, I am happy to be alone with you for a moment!&rdquo; said
+      Herzog, with that familiarity which was one of his means of becoming
+      intimate with people. &ldquo;I was going to compliment you! What a splendid
+      position you have reached.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; I have married a charming woman,&rdquo; replied the Prince, coldly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what a fortune!&rdquo; insisted the financier. &ldquo;Ah, it is worthy of the lot
+      of a great lord such as you are! Oh, you are like those masterpieces of
+      art which need a splendidly carved frame! Well, you have your frame, and
+      well gilt too!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He laughed and seemed pleased at Serge&rsquo;s happiness. He had taken one of
+      his hands and was patting it softly between his own.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not a very &lsquo;convenient&rsquo; mother-in-law, for instance,&rdquo; he went on,
+      good-naturedly; &ldquo;but you are so charming! Only you could have, coaxed
+      Madame Desvarennes, and you have succeeded. Oh! she likes you, my dear
+      Prince; she told me so only a little while ago. You have won her heart. I
+      don&rsquo;t know how you manage it, but you are irresistible! By the way, I was
+      not there when the marriage contract was read, and I, forgot to ask
+      Cayrol. Under what conditions are you married?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince looked at Herzog with a look that was hardly friendly. But the
+      financier appeared so indifferent, that Serge could not help answering
+      him:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My wife&rsquo;s fortune is settled on herself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! ah! that is usual in Normandy!&rdquo; replied Herzog with a grave look. &ldquo;I
+      was told Madame Desvarennes was a clever woman and she has proved it. And
+      you signed the contract with your eyes shut, my dear Prince. It is
+      perfect, just as a gentleman should do!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He said this with a good-natured air. Then, suddenly lifting his eyes, and
+      with an ironical smile playing on his lips, he added:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are bowled out, my dear fellow, don&rsquo;t you know?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sir!&rdquo; protested Serge with haughtiness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t cry out; it is too late, and would be useless,&rdquo; replied the
+      financier. &ldquo;Let me explain your position to you. Your hands are tied. You
+      cannot dispose of a sou belonging to your wife without her consent. It is
+      true, you have influence over her, happily for you. Still you must foresee
+      that she will be guided by her mother. A strong woman, too, the mother!
+      Ah, Prince, you have allowed yourself to be done completely. I would not
+      have thought it of you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge, nonplussed for a moment, regained his self-possession, and looked
+      Herzog in the face:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know what idea you have formed of me, sir, and I don&rsquo;t know what
+      object you have in speaking thus to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My interest in you,&rdquo; interrupted the financier. &ldquo;You are a charming
+      fellow: you please me much. With your tastes, it is possible that in a
+      brief time you may be short of money. Come and see me: I will put you into
+      the way of business. Au revoir, Prince.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And without giving Serge time to answer him, Herzog reached the boudoir
+      where his daughter was waiting with impatience. Behind him came the Prince
+      looking rather troubled. The financier&rsquo;s words had awakened importunate
+      ideas in his mind. Was it true that he had been duped by Madame
+      Desvarennes, and that the latter, while affecting airs of greatness and
+      generosity, had tied him like a noodle to her daughter&rsquo;s apron-string? He
+      made an effort to regain his serenity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Micheline loves me and all will be well,&rdquo; said he to himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes joined the young married people. The rooms were
+      clearing by degrees. Serge took Cayrol apart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What are you going to do to-night, my dear fellow?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You know an apartment has been prepared for you here?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I have already thanked Madame Desvarennes, but I mean to go back to
+      Paris. Our little paradise is prepared for us, and I wish to enter it
+      to-night. I have my carriage and horses here. I am taking away my wife
+      post-haste.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is an elopement,&rdquo; said Serge; gayly, &ldquo;quite in the style of the
+      regency!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, my dear Prince, that&rsquo;s how we bankers do it,&rdquo; said Cayrol, laughing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then changing his tone:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;See, I vibrate, I am palpitating. I am hot and cold by turns. Just fancy,
+      I have never loved before; my heart is whole, and I love to distraction!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge instinctively glanced at Jeanne. She was seated, looking sad and
+      tired.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes, between Jeanne and Micheline, had her arms twined
+      round the two young girls. Regret filled her eyes. The mother felt that
+      the last moments of her absolute reign were near, and she was
+      contemplating with supreme adoration these two children who had grown up
+      around her like two fragile and precious flowers. She was saying to them,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, the great day is over. You are both married. You don&rsquo;t belong to me
+      any longer. How I shall miss you! This morning I had two children, and now&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have four,&rdquo; interrupted Micheline. &ldquo;Why do you complain?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t complain,&rdquo; retorted Madame Desvarennes, quickly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That&rsquo;s right!&rdquo; said Micheline, gayly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then going toward Jeanne:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you are not speaking, you are so quiet; are you ill?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne shuddered, and made an effort to soften the hard lines on her face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is nothing. A little fatigue.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And emotion,&rdquo; added Micheline. &ldquo;This morning when we entered the church,
+      at the sound of the organ, in the midst of flowers, surrounded by all our
+      friends, I felt that I was whiter than my veil. And the crossing to my
+      place seemed so long, I thought I should never get there. I did so,
+      though. And now everybody calls me &lsquo;Madame&rsquo; and some call me &lsquo;Princess.&rsquo; 
+      It amuses me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge had approached.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you are a Princess,&rdquo; said he, smiling, &ldquo;and everybody must call you
+      so.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, not mamma, nor Jeanne, nor you,&rdquo; said the young wife, quickly;
+      &ldquo;always call me Micheline. It will be less respectful, but it will be more
+      tender.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes could not resist drawing her daughter once more to her
+      heart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear child,&rdquo; she said with emotion, &ldquo;you need affection, as flowers need
+      the sun! But I love you, there.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She stopped and added:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We love you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And she held out her hand to her son-in-law. Then changing the subject:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I am thinking, Cayrol, as you are returning to Paris, you might take
+      some orders for me which I will write out.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What? Business? Even on my wedding-day?&rdquo; exclaimed Micheline.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh! my daughter, we must have flour,&rdquo; replied the mistress, laughing.
+      &ldquo;While we are enjoying ourselves Paris eats, and it has a famous
+      appetite.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Micheline, leaving her mother, went to her husband.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Serge, it is not yet late. Suppose we put in an appearance at the
+      work-people&rsquo;s ball? I promised them, and the good folks will be so happy!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As you please. I am awaiting your orders. Let us make ourselves popular!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes had gone to her room. Carol took the opportunity of
+      telling his coachman to drive round by the park to the door of the little
+      conservatory and wait there. Thus, his wife and he would avoid meeting any
+      one, and would escape the leave-taking of friends and the curiosity of
+      lookers-on.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Micheline went up to Jeanne, and said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As you are going away quietly, dear, I shall not see you again this
+      evening. Adieu!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And with a happy smile, she kissed her. Then taking her husband&rsquo;s arm she
+      led him toward the park.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER X. CAYROL&rsquo;S DISAPPOINTMENT
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne left alone, watched them as they disappeared with the light and
+      easy movements of lovers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge, bending toward Micheline, was speaking tenderly. A rush of bitter
+      feeling caused Jeanne&rsquo;s heart to swell. She was alone, she, while he whom
+      she loved-her whole being revolted. Unhappy one! Why did she think of this
+      man? Had she the right to do so now? She no longer belonged to herself.
+      Another, who was as kind to her as Serge was ungrateful, was her husband.
+      She thought thus in sincerity of heart. She wished to love Cayrol. Alas,
+      poor Jeanne! She would load him with attentions and caresses! And Serge
+      would be jealous, for he could never have forgotten her so soon.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Her thoughts again turned to him whom she wished to forget. She made an
+      effort, but in vain. Serge was uppermost; he possessed her. She was
+      afraid. Would she never be able to break off the remembrance? Would his
+      name be ever on her lips, his face ever before her eyes?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thank heaven! she was about to leave. Travelling, and the sight of strange
+      places other than those where she had lived near Serge, would draw her
+      attention from the persecution she suffered. Her husband was about to take
+      her away, to defend her. It was his duty, and she would help him with
+      energy. With all the strength of her will she summoned Cayrol. She clung
+      violently to him as a drowning person catches at a straw, with the vigor
+      of despair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was between Jeanne and Cayrol a sympathetic communication. Mentally
+      called by his wife, the husband appeared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! at last!&rdquo; said she.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cayrol, surprised at this welcome, smiled. Jeanne, without noticing,
+      added:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Monsieur; are we leaving soon?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The banker&rsquo;s surprise increased. But as this surprise was decidedly an
+      agreeable one he did not protest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In a moment, Jeanne, dear,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why this delay?&rdquo; asked the young wife, nervously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will understand. There are more than twenty carriages before the
+      front door. Our coachman is driving round, and we will go out by the
+      conservatory door without being seen.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well; we will wait.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This delay displeased Jeanne. In the ardor of her resolution, in the first
+      warmth of her struggle, she wished at once to put space between her and
+      Serge. Unfortunately, Cayrol had thwarted this effort of proud revolt. She
+      was vexed with him. He, without knowing the motives which actuated his
+      wife, guessed that something had displeased her. He wished to change the
+      current of her thoughts.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You were marvellously beautiful to-night,&rdquo; he said, approaching her
+      gallantly. &ldquo;You were much admired, and I was proud of you. If you had
+      heard my friends! It was a concert of congratulations: What a fortunate
+      fellow that Cayrol is! He is rich; he has a charming wife! You see,
+      Jeanne, thanks to you, in the eyes of all, my happiness is complete.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne frowned, and without answering, shook her head haughtily. Cayrol
+      continued, without noticing this forecast of a storm:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They envy me; and I can understand it! I would not change places with
+      anybody. There, our friend Prince Panine is very happy; he has married a
+      woman whom he loves and who adores him. Well, he is not happier than I
+      am!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne rose abruptly, and gave her husband a terrible look.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur!&rdquo; she cried with rage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I beg your pardon,&rdquo; said Cayrol, humbly; &ldquo;I appear ridiculous to you, but
+      my happiness is stronger than I am, and I cannot hide my joy. You will see
+      that I can be grateful. I will spend my life in trying to please you. I
+      have a surprise for you to begin with.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What kind of surprise?&rdquo; asked Jeanne, with indifference.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cayrol rubbed his hands with a mysterious air. He was enjoying beforehand
+      the pleasant surprise he had in store for his wife.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You think we are going to Paris to spend our honeymoon like ordinary
+      folk?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne started. Cayrol seemed unfortunate in his choice of words.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, not at all,&rdquo; continued the banker. &ldquo;Tomorrow I leave my offices. My
+      customers may say what they like; I will leave my business, and we are
+      off.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne showed signs of pleasure. A flash of joy lit up her face. To go
+      away, that was rest for her!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And where shall we go?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is the surprise! You know that the Prince and his wife intend
+      travelling!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; but they refused to say where they were going;&rdquo; interrupted Jeanne,
+      with a troubled expression.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not to me. They are going to Switzerland. Well, we shall join them
+      there.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne arose like a startled deer when it hears the sound of a gun.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Join them there!&rdquo; she exclaimed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; to continue the journey together. A party of four; two newly-married
+      couples. It will be charming. I spoke to Serge on the subject. He objected
+      at first, but the Princess came to my assistance. And when he saw that his
+      wife and I were agreed, he commenced to laugh, and said: &lsquo;You wish it? I
+      consent. Don&rsquo;t say anything more!&rsquo; It is all very well to talk of love&rsquo;s
+      solitude; in about a fortnight, passed tete-a-tete, Serge will be glad to
+      have us. We will go to Italy to see the lakes; and there, in a boat, all
+      four, of us will have such pleasant times.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cayrol might have gone on talking for an hour, but Jeanne was not
+      listening. She was thinking. Thus all the efforts which she had decided to
+      make to escape from him whom she loved would be useless. An invincible
+      fatality ever brought her toward him whom she was seeking to avoid. And it
+      was her husband who was aiding this inevitable and execrable meeting. A
+      bitter smile played on her lips. There was something mournfully comic in
+      this stubbornness of Cayrol&rsquo;s, in throwing her in the way of Serge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cayrol, embarrassed by Jeanne&rsquo;s silence, waited a moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is the matter?&rdquo; he asked. &ldquo;You are just like the Prince when I spoke
+      to him on the subject.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne turned away abruptly. Cayrol&rsquo;s comparison was too direct. His
+      blunders were becoming wearisome.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The banker, quite discomfited on seeing the effect of his words,
+      continued:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You object to this journey? If so, I am willing to give it up.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The young wife was touched by this humble servility.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, yes,&rdquo; she said, softly, &ldquo;I should be grateful to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I had hoped to please you,&rdquo; said Cayrol. &ldquo;It is for me to beg pardon for
+      having succeeded so badly. Let us remain in Paris. It does not matter to
+      me what place we are in! Being near to you is all I desire.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He approached her, and, with beaming eyes, added:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are so beautiful, Jeanne; and I have loved you so long a time!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She moved away, full of a vague dread. Cayrol, very excitedly, put her
+      cloak round her shoulders, and looking toward the door, added:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The carriage is there, we can go now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne, much troubled, did not rise.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wait another minute,&rdquo; said she.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cayrol smiled constrainedly:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A little while ago you were hurrying me off.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was true. But a sudden change had come over Jeanne. Her energy had
+      given way. She felt very weary. The idea of going away with Cayrol, and of
+      being alone with him in the carriage frightened her. She looked vaguely at
+      her husband, and saw, in a sort of mist, this great fat man, with a
+      protruding shirt-front, rolls of red flesh on his neck above his collar,
+      long fat ears which only needed gold ear-rings, and his great hairy hands,
+      on the finger of one of which shone the new wedding-ring. Then, in a rapid
+      vision, she beheld the refined profile, the beautiful blue eyes, and the
+      long, fair mustache of Serge. A profound sadness came over the young
+      woman, and tears rushed to her eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is the matter with you? You are crying!&rdquo; exclaimed Cayrol,
+      anxiously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is nothing; my nerves are shaken. I am thinking of this chateau which
+      bears my name. Here I spent my youth, and here my father died. A thousand
+      ties bind me to this dwelling, and I cannot leave it without being
+      overcome.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Another home awaits you, luxuriantly adorned,&rdquo; murmured Cayrol, &ldquo;and
+      worthy of receiving you. It is there you will live henceforth with me,
+      happy through me, and belonging to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Then, ardently supplicating her, he added:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let us go, Jeanne!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He tried to take her in his arms, but the young wife disengaged herself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Leave me alone!&rdquo; she said, moving away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cayrol looked at her in amazement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is it? You are trembling and frightened!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He tried to jest:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Am I so very terrible, then? Or is it the idea of leaving here that
+      troubles you so much? If so, why did you not tell me sooner? I can
+      understand things. Let us remain here for a few days, or as long as you
+      like. I have arranged my affairs so as to be at liberty. Our little
+      paradise can wait for us.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He spoke pleasantly, but with an undercurrent of anxiety.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne came slowly to him, and calmly taking his hand, said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are very good.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am not making any efforts to be so,&rdquo; retorted Cayrol, smiling. &ldquo;What do
+      I ask? That you may be happy and satisfied.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, do you wish to please me?&rdquo; asked the young wife.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes!&rdquo; exclaimed Cayrol, warmly, &ldquo;tell me how.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame Desvarennes will be very lonely tomorrow when her daughter will be
+      gone. She will need consoling&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, ah,&rdquo; said Cayrol, thinking that he understood, &ldquo;and you would like&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I would like to remain some time with her. You could come every day and
+      see us. I would be very grateful to you, and would love you very much!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But&mdash;but&mdash;but&mdash;!&rdquo; exclaimed Cayrol, much confounded, &ldquo;you
+      cannot mean what you say, Jeanne! What, my dear? You wish me to return
+      alone to Paris to-night? What would my servants say? You would expose me
+      to ridicule!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Poor Cayrol made a piteous face. Jeanne looked at him as she had never
+      looked before. It made his blood boil.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Would you be so very ridiculous for having been delicate and tender?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t see what tenderness has to do with it,&rdquo; cried Cayrol; &ldquo;on the
+      contrary! But I love you. You don&rsquo;t seem to think it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Prove it,&rdquo; replied Jeanne, more provokingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This time Cayrol lost all patience.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it in leaving you that I shall prove it? Really, Jeanne, I am disposed
+      to be kind and to humor your whims, but on condition that they are
+      reasonable. You seem to be making fun of me! If I give way on such
+      important points on the day of our marriage, whither will you lead me? No;
+      no! You are my wife. The wife must follow her husband; the law says so!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it by law only that you wish to keep me? Have you forgotten what I
+      told you when you made me an offer of marriage? It is my hand only which I
+      give you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I answered you, that it would be my aim to gain your heart. Well, but
+      give me the means. Come, dear,&rdquo; said the banker in a resolute tone, &ldquo;you
+      take me for a child. I am not so simple as that! I know what this
+      resistance means; charming modesty so long as it is not everlasting.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne turned away without answering. Her face had changed its expression;
+      it was hard and determined.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Really,&rdquo; continued Cayrol, &ldquo;you would make a saint lose patience. Come,
+      answer me, what does this attitude mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The young wife remained silent. She felt she could not argue any longer,
+      and seeing no way out of her trouble, felt quite discouraged. Still she
+      would not yield. She shuddered at the very idea of belonging to this man;
+      she had never thought of the issue of this brutal and vulgar adventure.
+      Now that she realized it, she felt terribly disgusted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cayrol anxiously watched the increasing anguish depicted on his wife&rsquo;s
+      face. He had a presentiment that she was hiding something from him, and
+      the thought nearly choked him. And, with this suspicion, his ingenuity
+      came to his aid. He approached Jeanne, and said, affectionately:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come, dear child, we are misleading one another; I in speaking too
+      harshly, you in refusing to understand me. Forget that I am your husband;
+      see in me only a friend and open your heart; your resistance hides a
+      mystery. You have had some grief or have been deceived.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne, softened, said, in a low tone:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t speak to me like that; leave me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; resumed Cayrol, quietly, &ldquo;we are beginning life; there must be no
+      misunderstanding. Be frank, and you will find me indulgent. Come, young
+      girls are often romantic. They picture an ideal; they fall in love with
+      some one who does not return their love, which is sometimes even unknown
+      to him who is their hero. Then, suddenly, they have to return to a
+      reality. They find themselves face to face with a husband who is not the
+      expected Romeo, but who is a good man, devoted, loving, and ready to heal
+      the wounds he has not made. They are afraid of this husband; they mistrust
+      him, and will not follow him. It is wrong, because it is near him, in
+      honorable and right existence, that they find peace and forgetfulness.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cayrol&rsquo;s heart was torn by anxiety, and with trembling voice he tried to
+      read the effect of his words on Jeanne&rsquo;s features. She had turned away.
+      Cayrol bent toward her and said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You don&rsquo;t answer me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And as she still remained silent, he took her hand and forced her to look
+      at him. He saw that her face was covered with tears. He shuddered, and
+      then flew into a terrible passion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are crying! It is true then? You have loved?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne rose with a bound; she saw her imprudence. She understood the trap
+      he had laid; her cheeks burned. Drying her tears, she turned toward
+      Cayrol, and cried:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who has said so?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You cannot deceive me,&rdquo; replied the banker, violently. &ldquo;I saw it in your
+      looks. Now, I want to know the man&rsquo;s name!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne looked him straight in the face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never!&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, that is an avowal!&rdquo; exclaimed Cayrol.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have deceived me unworthily by your pretended kindness,&rdquo; interrupted
+      Jeanne, proudly, &ldquo;I will not say anything more.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cayrol flew at her&mdash;the churl reappeared. He muttered a fearful oath,
+      and seizing her by the arm, shouted:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take care! Don&rsquo;t play with me. Speak, I insist, or&mdash;&rdquo; and he shook
+      her brutally.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne, indignant, screamed and tore herself away from him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Leave me,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;you fill me with horror!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The husband, beside himself, pale as death and trembling convulsively,
+      could not utter a word, and was about to rush upon her when the door
+      opened, and Madame Desvarennes appeared, holding in her hand the letters
+      which she had written for Cayrol to take back to Paris. Jeanne uttered a
+      cry of joy, and with a bound threw herself into the arms of her who had
+      been a mother to her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XI. CONFESSION
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes understood the situation at a glance. She beheld Cayrol
+      livid, tottering, and excited. She felt Jeanne trembling on her breast;
+      she saw something serious had occurred. She calmed herself and put on a
+      cold manner to enable her the better to suppress any resistance that they
+      might offer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is the matter?&rdquo; she asked, looking severely at Cayrol.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Something quite unexpected,&rdquo; replied the banker, laughing nervously.
+      &ldquo;Madame refuses to follow me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And for what reason?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She dare not speak!&rdquo; Cayrol resumed, whose excitement increased as he
+      spoke. &ldquo;It appears she has in her heart an unhappy love! And as I do not
+      resemble the dreamed-of type, Madame has repugnances. But you understand
+      the affair is not going to end there. It is not usual to come and say to a
+      husband, twelve hours after marriage, &lsquo;Sir, I am very sorry, but I love
+      somebody else!&rsquo; It would be too convenient. I shall not lend myself to
+      these whims.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Cayrol, oblige me by speaking in a lower tone,&rdquo; said Madame Desvarennes,
+      quietly. &ldquo;There is some misunderstanding between you and this child.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The husband shrugged his broad shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A misunderstanding? Faith! I think so! You have a delicacy of language
+      which pleases me! A misunderstanding! Say rather a shameful deception! But
+      I want to know the gentleman&rsquo;s name. She will have to speak. I am not a
+      scented, educated gentleman. I am a peasant, and if I have to&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Enough,&rdquo; said Madame Desvarennes, sharply tapping with the tips of her
+      fingers Cayrol&rsquo;s great fist which he held menacingly like a butcher about
+      to strike. Then, taking him quietly aside toward the window, she added:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are a fool to go on like this! Go to my room for a moment. To you,
+      now, she will not say anything; to me she will confide all and we shall
+      know what to do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cayrol&rsquo;s face brightened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are right,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Yes, as ever, you are right. You must excuse
+      rile, I do not know how to talk to women. Rebuke her and put a little
+      sense in her head. But don&rsquo;t leave her; she is fit to commit any folly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be easy,&rdquo; she answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And making a sign to Cayrol, who was leaving the room, she returned to
+      Jeanne.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come, my child, compose yourself. We are alone and you will tell me what
+      happened. Among women we understand each other. Come, you were frightened,
+      eh?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne was one petrified, immovable, and dumb, she fixed her eyes on a
+      flower which was hanging from a vase. This red flower fascinated her. She
+      could not take her eyes off it. Within her a persistent thought recurred:
+      that of her irremediable misfortune. Madame Desvarennes looked at her for
+      a moment; then, gently touching her shoulder, resumed;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Won&rsquo;t you answer me? Have you not confidence in me? Have I not brought
+      you up? And if you are not born of me, have not the tenderness and care I
+      have lavished upon you made me your real mother?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne did not answer, but her eyes filled with tears;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You know that I love you,&rdquo; continued the mistress. &ldquo;Come, come to my arms
+      as you used to do when you were little and were suffering. Place your head
+      thereon my heart and let your tears flow. I see they are choking you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne could no longer resist, and falling on her knees beside Madame
+      Desvarennes, she buried her face in the silky and scented folds of her
+      dress like a frightened bird that flies to the nest and hides itself under
+      the wings of its mother.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This great and hopeless grief was to the mistress a certain proof that
+      Cayrol was right. Jeanne had loved and still loved another man than her
+      husband. But why had she not said anything, and why had she allowed
+      herself to be married to the banker? She had resisted, she remembered now.
+      She had struggled, and the refusals they had put down to pride they must
+      now attribute to passion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She did not wish to be separated from him whom she loved. Hence the
+      struggle that had ended in her abandoning her hand to Cayrol, perhaps in a
+      moment of despair and discouragement. But why had he whom she loved not
+      married her? What obstacle had arisen between him and the young girl?
+      Jeanne, so beautiful, and dowered by Madame Desvarennes, who then could
+      have hesitated to ask her hand?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Perhaps he whom Jeanne loved was unworthy of her? No! She would not have
+      chosen him. Perhaps he was not free to marry? Yes, it must be that. Some
+      married man, perhaps! A scoundrel who did not mind breaking a young girl&rsquo;s
+      heart! Where had she met him? In society at her house in the Rue
+      Saint-Dominique, perhaps! Who could tell? He very likely still continued
+      to come there. At the thought Madame Desvarennes grew angry. She wished to
+      know the name of the man so that she might have an explanation with him,
+      and tell him what she thought of his base conduct. The gentleman should
+      have respectable, well-educated girls to trifle with, should he? And he
+      risked nothing! He should be shown to the door with all honors due to his
+      shameful conduct.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne was still weeping silently at Madame Desvarennes&rsquo;s knee. The latter
+      raised her head gently and wiped away the tears with her lace
+      pocket-handkerchief.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come, my child! all this deluge means nothing. You must make up your
+      mind. I can understand your hiding anything from your husband, but not
+      from me! What is your lover&rsquo;s name?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This question so simply put, threw a faint light on Jeanne&rsquo;s troubled
+      brain. She saw the danger she was running. To speak before Madame
+      Desvarennes! To tell the name of him who had been false to her! To her!
+      Was it possible? In a moment she understood that she was about to destroy
+      Micheline and Serge. Her conscience revolted and she would not. She raised
+      herself and looking at Madame Desvarennes with still frightened eyes,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For pity&rsquo;s sake, forget my tears! Don&rsquo;t believe what my husband has told
+      you. Never seek to know. Remain ignorant as you are on the subject!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then he whom you love is related to me, as: you wish to hide his name
+      even from me,&rdquo; said Madame Desvarennes with instinctive anguish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She was silent. Her eyes became fixed. They looked without seeing. She was
+      thinking.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I beseech you,&rdquo; cried Jeanne, madly placing her hands before Madame
+      Desvarennes&rsquo;s face as if to check her scrutiny.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If I had a son,&rdquo; continued the mistress, &ldquo;I would believe&mdash;&rdquo;
+       Suddenly she ceased speaking; she became pale, and bending toward Jeanne,
+      she looked into her very soul.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it&mdash;&rdquo; she began.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No! no!&rdquo; interrupted Jeanne, terrified at seeing that the mistress had
+      found out the truth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You deny it before I have pronounced the name?&rdquo; said Madame Desvarennes
+      in a loud voice. &ldquo;You read it then on my lips? Unhappy girl! The man whom
+      you love is the husband of my daughter!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      My daughter! The accent with which Madame Desvarennes pronounced the word
+      &ldquo;my&rdquo; was full of tragical power. It revealed the mother capable of doing
+      anything to defend the happiness of the child whom she adored. Serge had
+      calculated well. Between Jeanne and Micheline, Madame Desvarennes would
+      not hesitate. She would have allowed the world to crumble away to make of
+      its ruins a shelter where her daughter would be joyous and happy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne had fallen back overwhelmed. The mistress raised her roughly. She
+      had no more consideration for her. It was necessary that she should speak.
+      Jeanne was the sole witness, and if the truth had to be got by main force
+      she should be made to speak it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, forgive me!&rdquo; moaned the young girl.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is not a question of that! In one word, answer me: Does he love you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do I know?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did he tell you he did?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And he has married Micheline!&rdquo; exclaimed Madame Desvarennes, with a
+      fearful gesture. &ldquo;I distrusted him. Why did I not obey my instinct?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And she began walking about like a lioness in a cage. Then, suddenly
+      stopping and placing herself before Jeanne, she continued:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You must help me to save Micheline!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She thought only of her own flesh and blood. Without hesitation,
+      unconsciously, she abandoned the other&mdash;the child of adoption. She
+      claimed the safety of her daughter as a debt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What has she to fear?&rdquo; asked Jeanne, bitterly. &ldquo;She triumphs, as she is
+      his wife.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If he were to abandon her,&rdquo; said the mother with anguish. Then,
+      reflecting: &ldquo;Still, he has sworn to me that he loved her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He lied!&rdquo; cried Jeanne, with rage. &ldquo;He wanted Micheline for her fortune!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But why that?&rdquo; inquired Madame Desvarennes, menacingly. &ldquo;Is she not
+      pretty enough to have pleased him? Do you think that you are the only one
+      to be loved?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If I had been rich he would have married me!&rdquo;, replied Jeanne,
+      exasperated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She had risen in revolt. They were treading too heavily on her. With a
+      ferocious cry of triumph; she added:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The night he used his influence with me to get me to marry Cayrol, he
+      assured me so on his word of honor!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Honor!&rdquo; ironically repeated Madame Desvarennes, overwhelmed. &ldquo;How he has
+      deceived us all! But what can I do? What course can I take? A separation?
+      Micheline would not consent. She loves him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And, in an outburst of fury, she cried:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it possible that that stupid girl loves that worthless dandy? And she
+      has my blood in her veins! If she knew the truth she would die!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Am I dead?&rdquo; asked Jeanne, gloomily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have an energetic nature,&rdquo; retorted the mistress, compassionately;
+      &ldquo;but she is so weak, so gentle! Ah! Jeanne, think what I have been to you;
+      raise some insurmountable barrier between yourself and Serge!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go back to your husband. You would not go with him a little while ago. It
+      was folly. If you separate from Cayrol, you will not be able to keep away
+      Serge, and you will take my daughter&rsquo;s husband from her!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! you think only of her! Her, always! She above all!&rdquo; cried Jeanne,
+      with rage. &ldquo;But me, I exist, I count, I have the right to be protected, of
+      being happy! And you wish me to sacrifice myself, to give myself up to
+      this man, whom I do not love, and who terrifies me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This time the question was plainly put. Madame Desvarennes became herself.
+      She straightened her figure, and in her commanding voice whose authority
+      no one resisted, said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What then? You wish to be separated from him? To regain your liberty at
+      the price of scandal? And what liberty? You will be repulsed, disdained.
+      Believe me, impose silence on your heart and listen to your reason. Your
+      husband is a good, loyal man. If you cannot love him, he will command your
+      respect. In marrying him, you have entered into engagements toward him.
+      Fulfil them; it is your duty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne felt overpowered and vanquished. &ldquo;But what will my life be?&rdquo; she
+      groaned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That of an honest woman,&rdquo; replied Madame Desvarennes, with true grandeur.
+      &ldquo;Be a wife; God will make you a mother, and you will be saved.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne bowed herself at these words. She no longer felt in them the
+      selfishness of the mother. What the mistress now said was sincere and
+      true. It was no longer her agitated and alarmed heart that inspired her;
+      it was her conscience, calm and sincere.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well; I will obey you,&rdquo; said the young wife, simply. &ldquo;Kiss me then,
+      mother.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She bent her brow, and Madame Desvarennes let tears of gratitude and
+      admiration fall on it. Then Jeanne went of her own accord to the room
+      door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come, Monsieur,&rdquo; called she to Cayrol.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The husband, grown cooler while waiting, and troubled at the length of the
+      interview, showed his anxious face on the threshold. He saw Madame
+      Desvarennes grave, and Jeanne collected. He dared not speak.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Cayrol, everything is explained,&rdquo; said the mistress. &ldquo;You have nothing to
+      fear from him whom you suspected. He is separated from Jeanne forever,
+      And; besides, nothing has passed between him and her who is your wife that
+      could arouse your jealousy. I will not tell you the name of this man now.
+      But if perchance he by some impossibility reappeared and threatened your
+      happiness, I would myself&mdash;you understand, me?&mdash;point him out to
+      you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cayrol remained thinking for, a moment; then addressing Madame
+      Desvarennes, replied:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is well. I have confidence in you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Then turning toward Jeanne, he added:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Forgive me and let everything be forgotten.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The mistress&rsquo;s face beamed with joy, as she followed their departing
+      figures with her eyes, and murmured:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Brave hearts!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Then, changing her expression:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now for the other one!&rdquo; exclaimed she.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And she went out on to the terrace.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XII. THE FETE
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The air was mild, the night clear and bright. Cayrol&rsquo;s carriage rolled
+      rapidly along the broad avenue of the park shadowed by tall trees, the
+      lanterns throwing, as they passed, their quivering light on the thickets.
+      The rumbling carriages took the last guests to the railway station. It was
+      past midnight. A nightingale began singing his song of love to the stars.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes mechanically stopped to listen. A sense of sorrow came
+      over this mother who was a prey to the most cruel mental anguish. She
+      thought that she could have been very happy on that splendid night, if her
+      heart had been full of quietude and serenity. Her two daughters were
+      married; her last task was accomplished. She ought to have nothing to do
+      but enjoy life after her own fashioning, and be calm and satisfied.
+      Instead of that, here were fear and dissimulation taking possession of her
+      mind; and an ardent, pitiless struggle beginning against the man who had
+      deceived her daughter and lied to her. The bark which carried her fortune,
+      on reaching port, had caught fire, and it was necessary to begin laboring
+      again amid cares and pains.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A dull rage filled her heart. To have so surely built up the edifice of
+      her happiness, to have embellished it every hour, and then to see an
+      intruder audaciously taking possession of it, and making his despotic and
+      hateful authority prevail! And what could she do against this new master?
+      Nothing. He was marvellously protected by Micheline&rsquo;s mad love for him. To
+      strike Serge would be to wound Micheline, surely and mortally. So this
+      scoundrel could laugh at her and dare her with impunity!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      What must she do? Take him aside and tell him that she knew of his
+      disloyal conduct, and tell him of her contempt and hatred for him? And
+      after that? What would be the consequence of this outburst of violence?
+      The Prince, using his power over Micheline, would separate the daughter
+      from the mother. And Madame Desvarennes would be alone in her corner,
+      abandoned like a poor dog, and would die of despair and anger. What other
+      course then? She must dissemble, mask her face with indifference, if
+      possible with tenderness, and undertake the difficult task of separating
+      Micheline from the man whom she adored. It was quite a feat of strategy to
+      plan. To bring out the husband&rsquo;s faults and to make his errors known, and
+      give her the opportunity of proving his worthlessness. In a word, to make
+      the young wife understand that she had married an elegant manikin,
+      unworthy of her love.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It would be an easy matter to lay snares for Serge. He was a gambler. She
+      could let him have ready money to satisfy his passion. Once in the
+      clutches of the demon of play, he would neglect his wife, and the mother
+      might regain a portion of the ground she had lost. Micheline&rsquo;s fortune
+      once broken into, she would interpose between her daughter and son-in-law.
+      She would make him pull up, and holding him tightly by her purse strings,
+      would lead him whither she liked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Already in fancy she saw her authority regained, and her daughter, her
+      treasure, her life, true mistress of the situation, grateful to her for
+      having saved her. And then, she thought, a baby will come, and if
+      Micheline is really my daughter, she will adore the little thing, and the
+      blind love which she has given to her husband will be diminished by so
+      much.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge did not know what an adversary he had against him in his
+      mother-in-law. It was a bad thing to cross the mistress when business
+      matters were concerned, but now that her daughter&rsquo;s happiness was at
+      stake! A smile came to her lips. A firm resolution from that hour must
+      guide her, and the struggle between her son-in-law and herself could only
+      end by the crushing of one of them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the distance the music from the work-people&rsquo;s ball was heard. Madame
+      Desvarennes mechanically bent her steps toward the tent under which the
+      heavy bounds of the dancers reechoed. Every now and then large shadows
+      appeared on the canvas. A joyful clamor issued from the ballroom. Loud
+      laughter resounded, mingled with piercing cries of tickled women.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The voice of the master of the ceremonies could be heard jocose and
+      solemn: &ldquo;La poule! Advance! Set to partners!&rdquo; Then the stamping of heavy
+      shoes on the badly planed floor, and, above all, the melancholy sounds of
+      the clarionet and the shrill notes of the cornet were audible.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At the entrance of the ballroom, surrounded by tables and stools, two
+      barrels of wine on stands presented their wooden taps, ready for those who
+      wanted to quench their thirst. A large red mark under each barrel showed
+      that the hands of the drinkers wire no longer steady. A cake-seller had
+      taken up his place at the other side, and was kneading a last batch of
+      paste, while his apprentice was ringing a bell which hung over the iron
+      cooking-stove to attract customers. There was an odor of rancid butter,
+      spilled wine, and paraffin oil.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Adjoining the ballroom, a merry-go-round; which had been the delight of
+      the village urchins all day, appealed for custom by the aid of a
+      barrel-organ on which a woman in a white bodice was playing the waltz from
+      &lsquo;Les Cloches de Corneville&rsquo;.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The animation of this fete, in the midst of which Madame Desvarennes
+      suddenly appeared, was a happy diversion from the serious thoughts which
+      beset her. She remembered that Serge and Micheline must be there. She came
+      from under the shadow of the avenue into the full light. On recognizing
+      her, all the workpeople, who were seated, rose. She was really mistress
+      and lady of the place. And then she had fed these people since morning.
+      With a sign she bade them be seated, and walking quickly toward the
+      dancing-room, lifted the red and white cotton curtain which hung over the
+      entrance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There, in a space of a hundred square yards or so, about a hundred and
+      fifty people were sitting or standing. At the end, on a stage, were the
+      musicians, each with a bottle of wine at his feet, from which they
+      refreshed themselves during the intervals. An impalpable dust, raised by
+      the feet of the dancers, filled the air charged with acrid odors. The
+      women in light dresses and bareheaded, and the men arrayed in their Sunday
+      clothes, gave themselves up with frantic ardor to their favorite pleasure.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Ranged in double rows, vis-a-vis, they were waiting with impatience for
+      the music to strike up for the last figure. Near the orchestra, Serge was
+      dancing with the Mayor&rsquo;s daughter opposite Micheline, whose partner was
+      the mayor himself. An air of joyful gravity lit up the municipal officer&rsquo;s
+      face. He was enjoying the honor which the Princess had done him. His
+      pretty young daughter, dressed, in her confirmation dress, which had been
+      lengthened with a muslin flounce, a rose in her hair, and her hands
+      encased in straw-colored one-button kid gloves, hardly dared raise her
+      eyes to the Prince, and with burning cheeks, answered in monosyllables the
+      few remarks Serge felt forced to address to her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The orchestra bellowed, the floor shook; the two lines of dancers had
+      advanced in a body. Madame Desvarennes, leaning against the door-post,
+      followed with her eyes her daughter, whose light footsteps contrasted
+      strangely with the heavy tread of the women around her. The mayor, eager
+      and respectful, followed her, making efforts to keep up with her without
+      treading on her long train. It was,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Excuse me, Madame la Princesse. If Madame la Princesse will do me the
+      honor to give me her hand, it is our turn to cross.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They had just crossed. Serge suddenly found himself facing his
+      mother-in-law. His face lit up, and he uttered a joyful exclamation.
+      Micheline raised her eyes, and following her husband&rsquo;s look, perceived her
+      mother. Then it was a double joy. With a mischievous wink, Serge called
+      Madame Desvarennes&rsquo;s attention to the mayor&rsquo;s solemn appearance as he was
+      galloping with Micheline, also the comical positions of the rustics.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Micheline was smiling. She was enjoying herself. All this homely gayety,
+      of which she was the cause, made her feel happy. She enjoyed the pleasure
+      of those around her. With her compassionate eyes she thanked her mother in
+      the distance for having prepared this fete in honor of her marriage. The
+      clarionet, violin, and cornet sounded a last modulation, then the final
+      cadence put an end to the bounds of the dances. Each took his lady to her
+      place&mdash;the mayor with pompous gait, Serge with as much grace as if he
+      had been at an ambassador&rsquo;s ball and was leading a young lady of highest
+      rank.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes was suddenly surrounded; cheers resounded, the band
+      struck up the Marseillaise.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let us escape,&rdquo; said Serge, &ldquo;because these good people will think nothing
+      of carrying us in triumph.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And leading away his mother-in-law and his wife, he left the ballroom
+      followed by cheers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Outside they all three walked in silence. The night air was delightful
+      after coming out of that furnace. The cheering had ceased, and the
+      orchestra was playing a polka. Micheline had taken her husband&rsquo;s arm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They went along slowly, and close together. Not a word was exchanged; they
+      all three seemed to be listening within themselves. When they reached the
+      house, they went up the steps leading into the greenhouse, which served
+      also as a boudoir to Madame Desvarennes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The atmosphere was still warm and scented, the lamps still burning. The
+      guests had left; Micheline looked round. The remembrance of this happy
+      evening, which had been the crowning of her happiness, filled her heart
+      with emotion. Turning toward her mother with a radiant face, she cried:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! mamma! I am so happy,&rdquo; and threw her arms around her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge started at this cry. Two tears came to his eyes, and looking a
+      little pale, he stretched out to Madame Desvarennes his hands, which she
+      felt trembling in hers, and said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes gazed at him for a moment. She did not see the shadow
+      of a wicked thought on his brow. He was sincerely affected, truly
+      grateful. The idea occurred to her that Jeanne had deceived her, or had
+      deceived herself, and that Serge had not loved her. A feeling of relief
+      took possession of her. But distrust had unfortunately entered her mind.
+      She put away that flattering hope. And giving her son-in-law such a look,
+      which, had he been less moved, he would have understood, she murmured,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We shall see.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0018" id="link2H_4_0018">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      BOOK 3.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XIII. THE FIRST BREAK
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The first two months of this union were truly enchanting. Serge and
+      Micheline never left each other. After an absence of eight days they had
+      returned to Paris with Madame Desvarennes, and the hitherto dull mansion
+      in the Rue Saint-Dominique was filled with joyful bustle. The splendid
+      stables, formerly too large for the mistress&rsquo;s three horses, were now
+      insufficient for the service of the Prince. There were eight splendid
+      carriage-horses, a pair of charming ponies&mdash;bought especially for
+      Micheline&rsquo;s use, but which the young wife had not been able to make up her
+      mind to drive herself&mdash;four saddle-horses, upon which every morning
+      about eight o&rsquo;clock, when the freshness of night had perfumed the Bois de
+      Boulogne, the young people took their ride round the lake.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A bright sun made the sheet of water sparkle between its borders of dark
+      fir-trees; the fresh air played in Micheline&rsquo;s veil, and the tawny leather
+      of the saddles creaked. Those were happy days for Micheline, who was
+      delighted at having Serge near her, attentive to her every want, and
+      controlling his thoroughbred English horse to her gentle pace. Every now
+      and then his mount would wheel about and rear in revolt, she following him
+      with fond looks, proud of the elegant cavalier who could subdue without
+      apparent effort, by the mere pressure of his thighs, that impetuous steed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then she would give her horse a touch with the whip, and off she would go
+      at a gallop, feeling happy with the wind blowing in her face, and he whom
+      she loved by her side to smile on and encourage her. Then they would
+      scamper along; the dog with his thin body almost touching the ground,
+      racing and frightening the rabbits, which shot across the road swift as
+      bullets. Out of breath by the violent ride, Micheline would stop, and pat
+      the neck of her lovely chestnut horse. Slowly the young people would
+      return to the Rue Saint-Dominique, and, on arriving in the courtyard,
+      there was such a pawing of feet as brought the clerks to the windows,
+      hiding behind the curtains. Tired with healthy exercise, Micheline would
+      go smiling to the office where her mother was hard at work, and say:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here we are, mamma!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The mistress would rise and kiss her daughter beaming with freshness. Then
+      they would go up to breakfast.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes&rsquo;s doubts were lulled to rest. She saw her daughter
+      happy. Her son-in-law was in every respect cordial and charming toward
+      her. Cayrol and his wife had scarcely been in Paris since their marriage.
+      The banker had joined Herzog in his great scheme of the &ldquo;Credit,&rdquo; and was
+      travelling all over Europe establishing offices and securing openings.
+      Jeanne accompanied him. They were then in Greece. The young wife&rsquo;s letters
+      to her adopted mother breathed calmness and satisfaction. She highly
+      praised her husband&rsquo;s kindness to her, and said it was unequalled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      No allusion was made to that evening of their marriage, when, escaping
+      from Cayrol&rsquo;s wrath, she had thrown herself in Madame Desvarennes&rsquo;s arms,
+      and had allowed her secret to be found out. The mistress might well think
+      then that the thought which at times still troubled her mind was a
+      remembrance of a bad dream.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      What contributed especially to make her feel secure was Jeanne&rsquo;s absence.
+      If the young woman had been near Serge, Madame Desvarennes might have
+      trembled. But Micheline&rsquo;s beautiful rival was far away, and Serge seemed
+      very much in love with his wife.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Everything was for the best. The formidable projects which Madame
+      Desvarennes had formed in the heat of her passion had not been carried out.
+      Serge had as yet not given Madame Desvarennes cause for real displeasure.
+      Certainly he was spending money foolishly, but then his wife was so rich!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He had put his household on an extraordinary footing. Everything that most
+      refined luxury had invented he had introduced as a matter of course, and
+      for everyday use. He entertained magnificently several times a week. And
+      Madame Desvarennes, from her apartments, for she would never appear at
+      these grand receptions, heard the noise of these doings. This woman,
+      modest and simple in her ideas, whose luxury had always been artistic,
+      wondered that they could spend so much on frivolous entertainments. But
+      Micheline was queen of these sumptuous ceremonies. She came in full dress
+      to be admired by her mother, before going down to receive her guests, and
+      the mistress had not courage to offer any remonstrances as to expense when
+      she saw her daughter so brilliant and contented.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They played cards very much. The great colony of foreigners who came every
+      week to Panine&rsquo;s receptions brought with them their immoderate passion for
+      cards, and he was only too willing to give way to it. These gentlemen,
+      among them all, almost without taking off their white kid gloves, would
+      win or lose between forty and fifty thousand francs at bouillotte, just to
+      give them an appetite before going to the club to finish the night at
+      baccarat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Meanwhile the ladies, with their graceful toilettes displayed on the low
+      soft chairs, talked of dress behind their fans, or listened to the songs
+      of a professional singer, while young men whispered soft nothings in their
+      ears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was rumored that the Prince lost heavily. It was not to be wondered at;
+      he was so happy in love! Madame Desvarennes, who used every means of
+      gaining information on the subject, even to the gossip of the servants,
+      heard that the sums were enormous. No doubt they were exaggerated, but the
+      fact remained the same. The Prince was losing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes could not resist the inclination of finding out whether
+      Micheline knew what was going on, and one morning when the young wife came
+      down to see her mother, dressed in a lovely pink gown, the mistress, while
+      teasing her daughter, said, carelessly:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It seems your husband lost heavily last night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Micheline looked astonished at Madame Desvarennes, and in a quiet voice
+      replied:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A good host may not win from his guests; it would look as if he invited
+      them to rob them. Losses at cards are included in the costs of a
+      reception.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes thought that her daughter had become a very grand lady,
+      and had soon acquired expanded ideas. But she dared not say anything more.
+      She dreaded a quarrel with her daughter, and would have sacrificed
+      everything to retain her cajoling ways.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She threw herself into her work with renewed vigor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If the Prince spends large sums,&rdquo; she said to herself, &ldquo;I will earn
+      larger ones. There can be no hole dug deep enough by him that I shall not
+      be able, to fill up.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And she made the money come in at the door so that her son-in-law might
+      throw it out of the window.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One fine day these great people who visited at the mansion in the Rue
+      Saint-Dominique hastened away to the country. September had arrived,
+      bringing with it the shooting season. The Prince and Micheline settled
+      themselves at Cernay, not as in the first days of their marriage as lovers
+      who sought quietude, but as people sure of their happiness, who wished to
+      make a great show. They took all the carriages with them, and there was
+      nothing but bustle and movement. The four keepers, dressed in the Prince&rsquo;s
+      livery, came daily for orders as to shooting arrangements. And every week
+      shoals of visitors arrived, brought from the station in large breaks drawn
+      by four horses.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The princely dwelling was in its full splendor. There was a continual
+      going and coming of fashionable worldlings. From top to bottom of the
+      castle was a constant rustling of silk dresses; groups of pretty women,
+      coming downstairs with peals of merry laughter and singing snatches from
+      the last opera. In the spacious hall they played billiards and other
+      games, while one of the gentlemen performed on the large organ. There was
+      a strange mixture of freedom and strictness. The smoke of Russian
+      cigarettes mingled with the scent of opoponax. An elegant confusion which
+      ended about six o&rsquo;clock in a general flight, when the sportsmen came home,
+      and the guests went to their rooms. An hour afterward all these people met
+      in the large drawing-room; the ladies in low-bodied evening dresses; the
+      gentlemen in dress-coats and white satin waistcoats, with a sprig of
+      mignonette and a white rose in their buttonholes. After dinner, they
+      danced in the drawing-rooms, where a mad waltz would even restore energy
+      to the gentlemen tired out by six hours spent in the field.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes did not join in that wild existence. She had remained
+      in Paris, attentive to business. On Saturdays she came down by the five
+      o&rsquo;clock train and regularly returned on the Monday morning. Her presence
+      checked their wild gayety a little. Her black dress was like a blot among
+      the brocades and satins. Her severe gravity, that of a woman who pays and
+      sees the money going too fast, was like a reproach, silent but explicit,
+      to that gay and thoughtless throng of idlers, solely taken up by their
+      pleasure.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The servants made fun of her. One day the Prince&rsquo;s valet, who thought
+      himself a clever fellow, said before all the other servants that Mother
+      Damper had arrived. Of course they all roared with laughter and exclaimed:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bother the old woman! Why does she come and worry us? She had far better
+      stop in the office and earn money; that&rsquo;s all she&rsquo;s good for!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The disdain which the servants learned from their master grew rapidly. So
+      much so that one Monday morning, toward nine o&rsquo;clock, Madame Desvarennes
+      came down to the courtyard, expecting to find the carriage which generally
+      took her to the station. It was the second coachman&rsquo;s duty to drive her,
+      and she did not see him. Thinking that he was a little late, she walked to
+      the stable-yard. There, instead of the victoria which usually took her,
+      she saw a large mail-coach to which two grooms were harnessing the
+      Prince&rsquo;s four bays. The head coachman, an Englishman, dressed like a
+      gentleman, with a stand-up collar, and a rose in his buttonhole, stood
+      watching the operations with an air of importance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes went straight to him. He had seen her coming, out of
+      the corner of his eye, without disturbing himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How is it that the carriage is not ready to take me to the station?&rdquo;
+       asked the mistress.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know, Madame,&rdquo; answered this personage, condescendingly, without
+      taking his hat off.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But where is the coachman who generally drives me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know. If Madame would like to see in the stables&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And with a careless gesture, the Englishman pointed out to Madame
+      Desvarennes the magnificent buildings at the end of the courtyard.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The blood rose to the mistress&rsquo;s cheeks; she gave the coachman such a look
+      that he moved away a little. Then glancing at her watch, she said, coldly:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have only a quarter of an hour before the train leaves, but here are
+      horses that ought to go well. Jump on the box, my man, you shall drive
+      me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Englishman shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Those horses are not for service; they are only for pleasure,&rdquo; he
+      answered. &ldquo;I drive the Prince. I don&rsquo;t mind driving the Princess, but I am
+      not here to drive you, Madame.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And with an insolent gesture, setting his hat firmly on his head, he
+      turned his back upon the mistress. At the same moment, a sharp stroke from
+      a light cane made his hat roll on the pavement. And as the Englishman
+      turned round, red with rage, he found himself face to face with the
+      Prince, whose approach neither Madame Desvarennes nor he had heard.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge, in an elegant morning suit, was going round his stables when he had
+      been attracted by this discussion. The Englishman, uneasy, sought to frame
+      an excuse.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hold your tongue!&rdquo; exclaimed the Prince, sharply, &ldquo;and go and wait my
+      orders.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And turning toward the mistress:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Since this man refuses to drive you, I shall have the pleasure of taking
+      you to the station myself,&rdquo; he said, with a charming smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And as Madame Desvarennes remonstrated,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh! I can drive four-in-hand,&rdquo; he added. &ldquo;For once in my life that talent
+      will have been of some use to me. Pray jump in.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And opening the door of the mail-coach he handed her into the vast
+      carriage. Then, climbing with one bound to the box, he gathered the reins
+      and, cigar in mouth, with all the coolness of an old coachman, he started
+      the horses in the presence of all the grooms, and made a perfect
+      semicircle on the gravel of the courtyard.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The incident was repeated favorably for Serge. It was agreed that he had
+      behaved like a true nobleman. Micheline was proud of it, and saw in this
+      act of deference to her mother a proof of his love for her. As to the
+      mistress, she understood the advantage this clever manoeuvre gave to the
+      Prince. At the same time she felt the great distance which henceforth
+      separated her from the world in which her daughter lived.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The insolence of that servant was a revelation to her. They despised her.
+      The Prince&rsquo;s coachman would not condescend to drive a plebeian like her.
+      She paid the wages of these servants to no purpose. Her plebeian origin
+      and business habits were a vice. They submitted to her; they did not
+      respect her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Although her son-in-law and daughter were perfect toward her in their
+      behavior, she became gloomy and dull, and but seldom went now to Cernay.
+      She felt in the way, and uncomfortable. The smiling and superficial
+      politeness of the visitors irritated her nerves. These people were too
+      well bred to be rude toward Panine&rsquo;s mother-in-law, but she felt that
+      their politeness was forced. Under their affected nicety she detected
+      irony. She began to hate them all.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge, sovereign lord of Cernay, was really happy. Every moment he
+      experienced new pleasure in gratifying his taste for luxury. His love for
+      horses grew more and more. He gave orders to have a model stud-house
+      erected in the park amid the splendid meadows watered by the Oise; and
+      bought stallions and breeding mares from celebrated English breeders. He
+      contemplated starting a racing stable.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One day when Madame Desvarennes arrived at Cernay, she was surprised to
+      see the greensward bordering the woods marked out with white stakes. She
+      asked inquiringly what these stakes meant? Micheline answered in an easy
+      tone:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! you saw them? That is the track for training. We made Mademoiselle de
+      Cernay gallop there to-day. She&rsquo;s a level-going filly with which Serge
+      hopes to win the next Poule des Produits.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The mistress was amazed. A child who had been brought up so simply, in
+      spite of her large fortune, a little commoner, speaking of level-going
+      fillies and the Poule des Produits! What a change had come over her and
+      what incredible influence this frivolous, vain Panine had over that young
+      and right-minded girl! And that in a few months! What would it be later?
+      He would succeed in imparting to her his tastes and would mould her to his
+      whims, and the young modest girl whom he had received from the mother
+      would become a horsey and fast woman.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Was it possible that Micheline could be happy in that hollow and empty
+      life? The love of her husband satisfied her. His love was all she asked
+      for, all else was indifferent to her. Thus of her mother, the impassioned
+      toiler, was born the passionate lover! All the fervency which the mother
+      had given to business, Micheline had given to love.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Moreover, Serge behaved irreproachably. One must do him that justice. Not
+      even an appearance accused him. He was faithful, unlikely as that may seem
+      in a man of his kind; he never left his wife. He had hardly ever gone out
+      without her; they were a couple of turtle-doves. They were laughed at.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Princess has tied a string round Serge&rsquo;s foot,&rdquo; was said by some of
+      Serge&rsquo;s former woman friends!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was something to be sure of her daughter&rsquo;s happiness. That happiness
+      was dearly, bought; but as the proverb says:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Money troubles are not mortal!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And, besides, it was evident that the Prince did not keep account of his
+      money; his hand was always open. And never did a great lord do more honor
+      to his fortune. Panine, in marrying Micheline, had found the mistress&rsquo;s
+      cash-box at his disposal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This prodigious cash-box had seemed to him inexhaustible, and he had drawn
+      on it like a Prince in the Arabian Nights on the treasure of the genii.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Perhaps it would suffice to let him see that he was spending the capital
+      as well as the income to make him alter his line of conduct. At all
+      events, the moment was not yet opportune, and, besides, the amount was not
+      yet large enough. Cry out about some hundred thousand francs! Madame
+      Desvarennes would be thought a miser and would be covered with shame. She
+      must wait.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And, shut up in her office in the Rue Saint-Dominique with Marechal, who
+      acted as her confidant, she worked with heart and soul full of passion and
+      anger, making money. It was fine to witness the duel between these two
+      beings: the one useful, the other useless; one sacrificing everything to
+      work, the other everything to pleasure.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Toward the end of October, the weather at Cernay became unsettled, and
+      Micheline complained of the cold. Country life so pleased Serge that he
+      turned a deaf ear to her complaints. But lost in that large house, the
+      autumn winds rustling through the trees, whose leaves were tinted with
+      yellow, Micheline became sad, and the Prince understood that it was time
+      to go back to Paris.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The town seemed deserted to Serge. Still, returning to his splendid
+      apartments was a great satisfaction and pleasure to him. Everything
+      appeared new. He reviewed the hangings, the expensive furniture, the
+      paintings and rare objects. He was charmed. It was really of wonderful
+      beauty, and the cage seemed worthy of the bird. For several evenings he
+      remained quietly at home with Micheline, in the little silver-gray
+      drawing-room that was his favorite room. He looked through albums, too,
+      while his wife played at her piano quietly or sang.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They retired early and came down late. Then he had become a gourmand. He
+      spent hours in arranging menus and inventing unknown dishes about which he
+      consulted his chef, a cook of note.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He rode in the Bois in the course of the day, but did not meet any one
+      there; for of every two carriages one was a hackney coach with a worn-out
+      sleepy horse, his head hanging between his knees, going the round of the
+      lake. He ceased going to the Bois, and went out on foot in the
+      Champs-Elysees. He crossed the Pont de la Concorde, and walked up and down
+      the avenues near the Cirque.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was wearied. Life had never appeared so monotonous to him. Formerly he
+      had at least the preoccupations of the future. He asked himself how he
+      could alter the sad condition in which he vegetated! Shut up in this happy
+      existence, without a care or a cross, he grew weary like a prisoner in his
+      cell. He longed for the unforeseen; his wife irritated him, she was of too
+      equable a temperament. She always met him with the same smile on her lips.
+      And then happiness agreed with her too well; she was growing stout.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One day, on the Boulevard des Italiens, Serge met an old friend, the Baron
+      de Prefont, a hardened &lsquo;roue&rsquo;. He had not seen him since his marriage. It
+      was a pleasure to him. They had a thousand things to say to each other.
+      And walking along, they came to the Rue Royale.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come to the club,&rdquo; said Prefont, taking Serge by the arm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince, having nothing else to do, allowed himself to be led away, and
+      went. He felt a strange pleasure in those large rooms of the club, the
+      Grand Cercle, with their glaring furniture. The common easy-chairs,
+      covered with dark leather, seemed delightful. He did not notice the
+      well-worn carpets burned here and there by the hot cigar-ash; the strong
+      smell of tobacco, impregnated in the curtains, did not make him feel
+      qualmish. He was away from home, and was satisfied with anything for a
+      change. He had been domesticated long enough.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One morning, taking up the newspaper, a name caught Madame Desvarennes&rsquo;s
+      eye-that of the Prince. She read:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The golden book of the Grand Cercle has just had another illustrious name
+      inscribed in it. The Prince Panine was admitted yesterday, proposed by the
+      Baron de Prefont and the Duc de Bligny.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      These few lines made Madame Desvarennes&rsquo;s blood boil. Her ears tingled as
+      if all the bells of Saint-Etienne-du-Mont had been rung together. In a
+      rapid vision, she saw misfortune coming. Her son-in-law, that born
+      gambler, at the Grand Cercle! No more smiles for Micheline; henceforth she
+      had a terrible rival&mdash;the devouring love of play.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then Madame Desvarennes reflected. The husband&rsquo;s deserting his fireside
+      would be salvation for herself. The door by which he went out, would serve
+      as an entrance for her. The plan which she had conceived at Cernay that
+      terrible night of the marriage when Jeanne had confided in her, remained
+      for her to execute. By opening her purse widely to the Prince, she would
+      help him in his vice. And she would infallibly succeed in separating Serge
+      and Micheline.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But the mistress checked herself. Lend her hands to the destruction of her
+      son-in-law in a fit of fierce maternal egoism? Was it not unworthy of her?
+      How many tears would the Prince&rsquo;s errors cost her whom she wished to
+      regain at all price? And then would she always be there to compensate by
+      her devoted affection the bitterly regretted estrangement from the
+      husband? She would, in dying, leave the household disunited.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She was horrified at what she had for an instant dreamed of doing. And
+      instead of helping the Prince on to destruction, she determined to do all
+      in her power to keep him in the path of honor. That resolution formed,
+      Madame Desvarennes was satisfied. She felt superior to Serge, and to a
+      mind like hers the thought was strengthening.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The admission to the Grand Cercle gave Serge a powerful element of
+      interest in life: He had to manoeuvre to obtain his liberty. His first
+      evenings spent from home troubled Micheline deeply. The young wife was
+      jealous when she saw her husband going out. She feared a rival, and
+      trembled for her love. Serge&rsquo;s mysterious conduct caused her intolerable
+      torture. She dared not say anything to her mother, and remained perfectly
+      quiet on the subject before her husband. She sought discreetly, listened
+      to the least word that might throw any light on the matter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One day she found an ivory counter, bearing the stamp of the Grand Cercle,
+      in her husband&rsquo;s dressing-room. It was in the Rue Royale then that her
+      husband spent his evenings. This discovery was a great relief to her. It
+      was not very wrong to go there, and if the Prince did go and smoke a few
+      cigars and have a game at bouillotte, it was not a very great crime. The
+      return of his usual friends to Paris and the resumption of their
+      receptions would bring him home again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge now left Micheline about ten o&rsquo;clock in the evening regularly and
+      arrived at the club about eleven. High play did not commence until after
+      midnight. Then he seated himself at the gaming-table with all the ardor of
+      a professional gambler. His face changed its expression. When winning, it
+      was animated with an expression of awful joy; when losing, he looked as
+      hard as a stone, his features contracted, and his eyes were full of gloomy
+      fire. He bit his mustache convulsively. Moreover, always silent, winning
+      or losing with superb indifference.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He lost. His bad luck had followed him. At the club his losses were no
+      longer limited. There was always some one willing to take a hand, and
+      until dawn he played, wasting his life and energies to satisfy his insane
+      love of gambling.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One morning, Marechal entered Madame Desvarennes&rsquo;s private office, holding
+      a little square piece of paper. Without speaking a word, he placed it on
+      the desk. The mistress took it, read what was written upon it in shaky
+      handwriting, and suddenly becoming purple, rose. The paper bore these
+      simple words:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Received from Monsieur Salignon the sum of one hundred thousand francs.
+      Serge Panine.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who brought this paper?&rdquo; asked Madame Desvarennes, crushing it between
+      her fingers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The waiter who attends the card-room at the club.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The waiter?&rdquo; cried Madame Desvarennes, astonished.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, he is a sort of banker,&rdquo; said Marechal. &ldquo;These gentlemen apply to him
+      when they run short of money. The Prince must have found himself in that
+      predicament. Still he has just received the rents for the property in the
+      Rue de Rivoli.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The rents!&rdquo; grumbled Madame Desvarennes, with an energetic movement. &ldquo;The
+      rents! A drop of water in a river! You don&rsquo;t know that he is a man to lose
+      the hundred thousand francs which they claim, in one night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The mistress paced up and down the room. She suddenly came to a
+      standstill. &ldquo;If I don&rsquo;t stop him, the rogue will sell the feather-bed from
+      under my daughter! But he shall have a little of my mind! He has provoked
+      me long enough. Pay it! I&rsquo;ll take my money&rsquo;s worth out of him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And in a second, Madame Desvarennes was in the Prince&rsquo;s room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge, after a delicate breakfast, was smoking and dozing on the
+      smoking-room sofa. The night had been a heavy one for him. He had won two
+      hundred and fifty thousand francs from Ibrahim Bey, then he had lost all,
+      besides five thousand louis advanced by the obliging Salignon. He had told
+      the waiter to come to the Rue Saint-Dominique, and by mistake the man had
+      gone to the office.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The sudden opening of the smoking-room door roused Serge. He unclosed his
+      eyes and looked very much astonished at seeing Madame Desvarennes appear.
+      Pale, frowning, and holding the accusing paper in her hand, she angrily
+      inquired:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you recognize that?&rdquo; and placed the receipt which he had signed,
+      before him, as he slowly rose.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge seized it quickly, and then looking coldly at his mother-in-law,
+      said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How did this paper come into your hands?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It has just been brought to my cashier. A hundred thousand francs! Faith!
+      You are going ahead! Do you know how many bushels of corn must be ground
+      to earn that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I beg your pardon, Madame,&rdquo; said the Prince, interrupting Madame
+      Desvarennes. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t suppose you came here to give me a lesson in
+      commercial statistics. This paper was presented to your cashier by
+      mistake. I was expecting it, and here is the money ready to pay it. As you
+      have been good enough to do so, pray refund yourself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And taking a bundle of bank-notes from a cabinet, the Prince handed them
+      to the astonished mistress.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But,&rdquo; she sought to say, very much put out by this unexpected answer,
+      &ldquo;where did you get this money from? You must have inconvenienced
+      yourself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I beg your pardon,&rdquo; said the Prince, quietly, &ldquo;that only concerns myself.
+      Be good enough to see whether the amount is there,&rdquo; added he with a smile.
+      &ldquo;I reckon so badly that it is possible I may have made a mistake to your
+      disadvantage.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes pushed away the hand which presented the bank-notes,
+      and shook her head gravely:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Keep this money,&rdquo; she said; &ldquo;unfortunately you will need it. You have
+      entered on a very dangerous path, which grieves me very much. I would
+      willingly give ten times the amount, at once, to be sure that you would
+      never touch another card.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame!&rdquo; said the Prince with impatience.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh! I know what I am risking by speaking thus. It weighs so heavily on my
+      heart. I must give vent to it or I shall choke. You are spending money
+      like a man who does not know what it is to earn it. And if you continue&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes raised her eyes and looked at the Prince. She saw him
+      so pale with suppressed rage that she dared not say another word. She read
+      deadly hatred in the young man&rsquo;s look. Frightened at what she had just
+      been saying, she stepped back, and went quickly toward the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take this money, Madame,&rdquo; said Serge, in a trembling voice. &ldquo;Take it, or
+      all is over between us forever.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And, seizing the notes, he put them by force in Madame Desvarennes&rsquo;s
+      hands. Then tearing up with rage the paper that had been the cause of this
+      painful scene, he threw the pieces in the fireplace.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Deeply affected, Madame Desvarennes descended the stairs which she had a
+      few minutes before gone up with so much resolution. She had a presentiment
+      that an irreparable rupture had just taken place between herself and her
+      son-in-law. She had ruffled Panine&rsquo;s pride. She felt that he would never
+      forgive her. She went to her room sad and thoughtful. Life was becoming
+      gloomy for this poor woman. Her confidence in herself had disappeared. She
+      hesitated now, and was irresolute when she had to take a decision. She no
+      longer went straight to the point by the shortest road. Her sonorous voice
+      was softened. She was no longer the same willing energetic woman who
+      feared no obstacles. She had known defeat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The attitude of her daughter had changed toward her. It seemed as if
+      Micheline wished to absolve herself of all complicity with Madame
+      Desvarennes. She kept away to prove to her husband that if her mother had
+      displeased him in any way, she had nothing to do with it. This behavior
+      grieved her mother, who felt that Serge was working secretly to turn
+      Micheline against her. And the mad passion of the young wife for him whom
+      she recognized as her master did not allow the mother to doubt which side
+      she would take if ever she had to choose between husband and mother.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One day Micheline came down to see her mother. It was more than a month
+      since she had visited her. In a moment Madame Desvarennes saw that she had
+      something of an embarrassing nature to speak of. To begin with she was
+      more affectionate than usual, seeming to wish with the honey of her kisses
+      to sweeten the bitter cross which the mistress was doomed to bear. Then
+      she hesitated. She fidgeted about the room humming. At last she said that
+      the doctor had come at the request of Serge, who was most anxious about
+      his wife&rsquo;s health. And that excellent Doctor Rigaud, who had known her
+      from a child, had found her suffering from great weakness. He had ordered
+      change of air.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At these words Madame Desvarennes raised her head and gave her daughter a
+      terrible look:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come, no nonsense! Speak the truth! He is taking you away!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, mamma,&rdquo; said Micheline, disconcerted at this interruption, &ldquo;I assure
+      you, you are mistaken. Anxiety for my health alone guides my husband.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your husband!&rdquo; broke forth Madame Desvarennes. &ldquo;Your husband! Ah, there;
+      go away! Because if you stop here, I shall not be able to control myself,
+      and shall say things about him that you will not forgive in a hurry! As
+      you are ill, you are right to have change of air. I shall remain here,
+      without you, fastened to my chain, earning money for you while you are
+      far, away. Go along!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And seizing her daughter by the arm with convulsive strength, she pushed
+      her roughly; for the first time in her life, repeating, in a low tone:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go away! Leave me alone!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Micheline suffered herself to be put outside the room, and went to her own
+      apartments astonished and frightened. The young wife had hardly left the
+      room when Madame Desvarennes suffered the reaction of the emotion she had
+      just felt. Her nerves were unstrung, and falling on a chair she remained
+      immovable and humbled. Was it possible that her daughter, her adored
+      child, would abandon her to obey the grudges of her husband? No,
+      Micheline, when back in her room, would remember that she was carrying
+      away all the joy of the house, and that it was cruel to deprive her mother
+      of her only happiness in life.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Slightly reassured, she went down to the office. As she reached the
+      landing, she saw the Prince&rsquo;s servants carrying up trunks belonging to
+      their master to be packed. She felt sick at heart. She understood that
+      this project had been discussed and settled beforehand. It seemed to her
+      that all was over; that her daughter was going away forever, and that she
+      would never see her again. She thought of going to beseech Serge and ask
+      him what sum he would take in exchange for Micheline&rsquo;s liberty; but the
+      haughty and sarcastic face of the Prince forcibly putting the bank-notes
+      in her hands, passed before her, and she guessed that she would not obtain
+      anything. Cast down and despairing, she entered her office and set to
+      work.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The next day, by the evening express, the Prince and Princess left for
+      Nice with all their household, and the mansion in the Rue Saint-Dominique
+      remained silent and deserted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XIV. A SUDDEN JOURNEY
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      At the end of the Promenade des Anglais, on the pleasant road bordered
+      with tamarind-trees, stands, amid a grove of cork-oaks and eucalypti, a
+      charming white villa with pink shutters. A Russian lady, the Countess
+      Woreseff, had it built five years ago, and occupied it one winter. Then,
+      tired of the monotonous noise of the waves beating on the terrace and the
+      brightness of the calm blue sky, she longed for the mists of her native
+      country, and suddenly started for St. Petersburg, leaving that charming
+      residence to be let.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was there, amid rhododendrons and strawberry-trees in full bloom, that
+      Micheline and Serge had taken up their abode. Until that day the Princess
+      had scarcely travelled. Her mother, always occupied in commercial
+      pursuits, had never left Paris. Micheline had remained with her. During
+      this long journey, accomplished in most luxurious style, she had behaved
+      like a child astonished at everything, and pleased at the least thing.
+      With her face close to the window she saw through the transparent darkness
+      of a lovely winter&rsquo;s night, villages and forests gliding past like
+      phantoms. Afar off, in the depths of the country, she caught sight of a
+      light glimmering, and she loved to picture a family gathered by the fire,
+      the children asleep and the mother working in the silence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Children! She often thought of them, and never without a sigh of regret
+      rising to her lips. She had been married for some months, and her dreams
+      of becoming a mother had not been realized. How happy she would have been
+      to have a baby, with fair hair, to fondle and kiss! Then the idea of a
+      child reminded her of her own mother. She thought of the deep love one
+      must feel for a child. And the image of the mistress, sad and alone, in
+      the large house of the Rue Saint-Dominique, came to her mind. A vague
+      remorse seized her heart. She felt she had behaved badly. She said to
+      herself: &ldquo;If, to punish me, Heaven will not grant me a child!&rdquo; She wept,
+      and soon her grief and trouble vanished with her tears. Sleep overpowered
+      her, and when she awoke it was broad daylight and they were in Provence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      From that moment everything was dazzling. The arrival at Marseilles; the
+      journey along the coast, the approach to Nice, were all matters of ecstacy
+      to Micheline. But it was when the carriage, which was waiting for them at
+      the railway station, stopped at the gates of the villa, that she broke
+      into raptures. She could not feast her eyes enough on the scene which was
+      before her. The blue sea, the sky without a cloud, the white houses rising
+      on the hill amid the dark foliage, and in the distance the mountaintops
+      covered with snow, and tinged with pink under the brilliant rays of the
+      sun. All this vigorous and slightly wild nature surprised the Parisienne.
+      It was a new experience. Dazzled by the light and intoxicated with the
+      perfumes, a sort of languor came over her. She soon recovered and became
+      quite strong&mdash;something altogether new for her, and she felt
+      thoroughly happy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The life of the Prince and the Princess became at Nice what it had been in
+      Paris during the early days of their marriage. Visitors flocked to their
+      house. All that the colony could reckon of well-known Parisians and
+      foreigners of high repute presented themselves at the villa. The fetes
+      recommenced. They gave receptions three times a week; the other evenings
+      Serge went to the Cercle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This absorbing life had gone on for two months. It was the beginning of
+      February, and already nature was assuming a new appearance under the
+      influence of spring. One evening, three people&mdash;two gentlemen and a
+      lady&mdash;stepped out of a carriage at the villa gates, and found
+      themselves face to face with a traveller who had come on foot. Two
+      exclamations broke out simultaneously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Marechal!&rdquo; &ldquo;Monsieur Savinien!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You! at Nice? And by what miracle?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A miracle which makes you travel fifteen leagues an hour in exchange for
+      a hundred and thirty-three francs first-class, and is called the
+      Marseilles express!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I beg your pardon, my dear friend. I have not introduced you to Monsieur
+      and Mademoiselle Herzog.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have already had the honor of meeting Mademoiselle Herzog at Madame
+      Desvarennes&rsquo;s,&rdquo; said Marechal, bowing to the young girl, without appearing
+      to notice the father.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You were going to the villa?&rdquo; asked Savinien. &ldquo;We, too, were going. But
+      how is my aunt? When did you leave her?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have not left her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What&rsquo;s that you say?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I say that she is here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Savinien let his arms drop in profound consternation to show how difficult
+      it was for him to believe what was going on. Then, in a faint treble
+      voice, he said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My aunt! At Nice! Promenade des Anglais! That&rsquo;s something more wonderful
+      than the telephone and phonograph! If you had told me that the Pantheon
+      had landed one fine night on the banks of the Paillon, I should not be
+      more astonished. I thought Madame Desvarennes was as deeply rooted in
+      Paris as the Colonne Vendome! But tell me, what is the object of this
+      journey?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A freak.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Which manifested itself&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yesterday morning at breakfast. Pierre Delarue, who is going to finish
+      his business in Algeria, and then settle in France, came to say &lsquo;Good-by&rsquo; 
+      to Madame Desvarennes. A letter arrived from the Princess. She commenced
+      reading it, then all at once she exclaimed &lsquo;Cayrol and his wife arrived at
+      Nice two days ago!&rsquo; Pierre and I were astonished at the tone in which she
+      uttered these words. She was lost in thought for a few moments, then she
+      said to Pierre: &lsquo;You are leaving tonight for Marseilles? Well, I shall go
+      with you. You will accompany me to Nice.&rsquo; And turning toward me, she
+      added: &lsquo;Marechal, pack up your portmanteau. I shall take you with me.&rdquo;&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While speaking, they had walked across the garden, and reached the steps
+      leading to the villa.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing is easier than to explain this sudden journey,&rdquo; remarked
+      Mademoiselle Herzog. &ldquo;On learning that Monsieur and Madame Cayrol were at
+      Nice with the Princess, Madame Desvarennes must have felt how very lonely
+      she was in Paris. She had a longing to be near them, and started.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Herzog listened attentively, and seemed to be seeking the connection which
+      should exist between the arrival of the Cayrols and the departure of
+      Madame Desvarennes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The funniest thing to me is Marechal taking a holiday,&rdquo; observed
+      Savinien. &ldquo;They are still at dinner,&rdquo; he added, entering the drawing-room,
+      through the great doors of which sounds of voices and rattling of plates
+      were heard.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, let us wait for them; we are in agreeable company,&rdquo; said Herzog,
+      turning toward Marechal, who only answered by a cold bow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What are you going to do here, Marechal?&rdquo; inquired Savinien. &ldquo;You will be
+      awfully bored.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why? Once in a way I am going to enjoy myself and be a swell. You will
+      teach me, Monsieur Savinien. It cannot be very difficult. It is only
+      necessary to wear a dove-colored coat like you, a gardenia in my
+      buttonhole like Monsieur Le Bride, frizzled hair like Monsieur du
+      Tremblay, and to assail the bank at Monaco.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Like all these gentlemen,&rdquo; said Suzanne, gayly, &ldquo;you are a gambler then?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have never touched a card.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But then you ought to have great good luck,&rdquo; said the young girl.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Herzog had come up to them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you go partners?&rdquo; he asked of Marechal. &ldquo;We will divide the
+      winnings.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are too kind,&rdquo; replied Marechal, dryly, turning away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He could not get used to Herzog&rsquo;s familiarity, and there was something in
+      the man which displeased him greatly. There was, he thought, a
+      police-court atmosphere about him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Suzanne, on the contrary, interested him. The simple, lively, and frank
+      young girl attracted him, and he liked to talk with her. On several
+      occasions, at Madame Desvarennes&rsquo;s, he had been her partner. There was
+      through this a certain intimacy between them which he could not extend to
+      the father.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Herzog had that faculty, fortunately for him, of never appearing offended
+      at what was said to him. He took Savinien&rsquo;s arm in a familiar manner and
+      asked: &ldquo;Have you noticed that the Prince has looked very preoccupied for
+      the last few days?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t wonder at it,&rdquo; replied Savinien. &ldquo;He has been very unlucky at
+      cards. It is all very well for his wife, my charming cousin, to be rich,
+      but if he is going on like that it won&rsquo;t last long!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The two men withdrew to the window.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Suzanne went up to Marechal. She had resumed her thoughtful air. He saw
+      her advancing, and, guessing what she was going to say, felt uncomfortable
+      at having to tell an untruth if he did not wish to hurt her feelings by
+      brutal frankness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur Marechal,&rdquo; she began, &ldquo;how is it that you are always so cold and
+      formal with my father?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear young lady, there is a great difference between your father and
+      me. I keep my place, that&rsquo;s all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The young girl shook her head sadly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is not that; you are amiable and ever friendly with me&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are a woman, and the least politeness&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No! My father must have hurt your feelings unwittingly; for he is very
+      good. I have asked him, and he did not seem to understand what I meant.
+      But my questions drew his attention to you. He thinks highly of you and
+      would like to see you filling a position more in harmony with your merit.
+      You know that Monsieur Cayrol and my father have just launched a
+      tremendous undertaking?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The &lsquo;Credit European&rsquo;?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. They will have offices in all the commercial centres of European
+      commerce. Would you like the management of one of these branches?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I, Mademoiselle?&rdquo; cried Marechal, astonished, and already asking himself
+      what interest Herzog could have in making him leave the house of
+      Desvarennes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The enterprise is colossal,&rdquo; continued Suzanne, &ldquo;and frightens me at
+      times. Is it necessary to be so rich? I would like my father to retire
+      from these enormous speculations into which he has thrown himself, body
+      and soul. I have simple tastes. My father wishes to make a tremendous
+      fortune for me, he says. All he undertakes is for me, I know. It seems to
+      me that he runs a great risk. That is why I am talking to you. I am very
+      superstitious, and I fancy if you were with us it would bring us luck.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Suzanne, while speaking, had leaned toward Marechal. Her face reflected
+      the seriousness of her thoughts. Her lovely eyes implored. The young man
+      asked himself how this charming girl could belong to that horrible Herzog.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Believe me that I am deeply touched, Mademoiselle, by the favor you have
+      done me,&rdquo; said he, with emotion. &ldquo;I owe it solely to your kindness, I
+      know; but I do not belong to myself. I am bound to Madame Desvarennes by
+      stronger ties than those of interest&mdash;those of gratitude.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You refuse?&rdquo; she cried, painfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I must.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The position you fill is humble.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was very glad to accept it at a time when my daily bread was not
+      certain.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have been reduced,&rdquo; said the young girl, with trembling voice, &ldquo;to
+      such&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wretchedness. Yes, Mademoiselle, my outset in life was hard. I am without
+      relations. Mother Marechal, a kind fruiterer of the Rue Pavee au Marais,
+      found me one morning by the curbstone, rolled in a number of the
+      Constitutionnel, like an old pair of boots. The good woman took me home,
+      brought me up and sent me to college. I must tell you that I was very
+      successful and gained a scholarship. I won all the prizes. Yes, and I had
+      to sell my gilt-edged books from the Lycee Charlemagne in the days of
+      distress. I was eighteen when my benefactress, Mother Marechal, died. I
+      was without help or succor. I tried to get along by myself. After ten
+      years of struggling and privations I felt physical and moral vigor giving
+      way. I looked around me and saw those who overcame obstacles were stronger
+      than I. I felt that I was doomed not to make way in the world, not being
+      one of those who could command, so I resigned myself to obey. I fill a
+      humble position as you know, but one which satisfies my wants. I am
+      without ambition. A little philosophical, I observe all that goes on
+      around me. I live happily like Diogenes in his tub.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are a wise man,&rdquo; resumed Suzanne. &ldquo;I, too, am a philosopher, and I
+      live amid surroundings which do not please me. I, unfortunately, lost my
+      mother when I was very young, and although my father is very kind, he has
+      been obliged to neglect me a little. I see around me people who are
+      millionaires or who aspire to be. I am doomed to receive the attentions of
+      such men as Le Bride and Du Tremblay&mdash;empty-headed coxcombs, who
+      court my money, and to whom I am not a woman, but a sack of ducats trimmed
+      with lace.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;These gentlemen are the modern Argonauts. They are in search of the
+      Golden Fleece,&rdquo; observed Marechal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Argonauts!&rdquo; cried Suzanne, laughing. &ldquo;You are right. I shall never
+      call them anything else.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, they will not understand you!&rdquo; said Marechal, gayly. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t think
+      they know much of mythology.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, you see I am not very happy in the bosom of riches,&rdquo; continued the
+      young girl. &ldquo;Do not abandon me. Come and talk with me sometimes. You will
+      not chatter trivialities. It will be a change from the others.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And, nodding pleasantly to Marechal, Mademoiselle Herzog joined her
+      father, who was gleaning details about the house of Desvarennes from
+      Savinien.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The secretary remained silent for a moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Strange girl!&rdquo; he murmured. &ldquo;What a pity she has such a father.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The door of the room in which Monsieur and Mademoiselle Herzog, Marechal
+      and Savinien were, opened, and Madame Desvarennes entered, followed by her
+      daughter, Cayrol, Serge and Pierre. The room, at the extreme end of the
+      villa, was square, surrounded on three sides by a gallery shut in by glass
+      and stocked with greenhouse plants. Lofty archways, half veiled with
+      draperies, led to the gallery. This room had been the favorite one of
+      Countess Woreseff. She had furnished it in Oriental style, with low seats
+      and large divans, inviting one to rest and dream during the heat of the
+      day. In the centre of the apartment was a large ottoman, the middle of
+      which formed a flower-stand. Steps led down from the gallery to the
+      terrace whence there was a most charming view of sea and land.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On seeing his aunt enter, Savinien rushed forward and seized both her
+      hands. Madame Desvarennes&rsquo;s arrival was an element of interest in his
+      unoccupied life. The dandy guessed at some mysterious business and thought
+      it possible that he might get to know it. With open ears and prying eyes,
+      he sought the meaning of the least words.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you knew, my dear aunt, how surprised I am to see you here,&rdquo; he
+      exclaimed in his hypocritical way.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not more so than I am to find myself here,&rdquo; said she, with a smile. &ldquo;But,
+      bah! I have slipped my traces for a week.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what are you going to do here?&rdquo; continued Savinien.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What everybody does. By-the-bye, what do they do?&rdquo; asked Madame
+      Desvarennes, with vivacity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That depends,&rdquo; answered the Prince. &ldquo;There are two distinct populations
+      here. On the one hand, those who take care of themselves; on the other,
+      those who enjoy themselves. For the former there is the constitutional
+      every morning in the sun, with slow measured steps on the Promenade des
+      Anglais. For the latter there are excursions, races, regattas. The first
+      economize their life like misers; the second waste it like prodigals. Then
+      night comes on, and the air grows cold. Those who take care of themselves
+      go home, those who amuse themselves go out. The first put on
+      dressing-gowns; the second put on ball-dresses. Here, the house is quiet,
+      lit up by a night-light; there, the rooms sparkle with light, and resound
+      with the noise of music and dancing. Here they cough, there they laugh.
+      Infusion on the one hand, punch on the other. In fact, everywhere and
+      always, a contrast. Nice is at once the saddest and the gayest town. One
+      dies of over-enjoyment, and one amuses one&rsquo;s self at the risk of dying.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A sojourn here is very dangerous, then?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh! aunt, not so dangerous, nor, above all, so amusing as the Prince
+      says. We are a set of jolly fellows, who kill time between the dining-room
+      of the hotel, pigeon-shooting, and the Cercle, which is not so very
+      amusing after all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The dining-room is bearable,&rdquo; said Marechal, &ldquo;but pigeon-shooting must in
+      time become&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We put some interest into the game.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How so?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh! It is very simple: a gentleman with a gun in his hand stands before
+      the boxes which contain the pigeons. You say to me: &lsquo;I bet fifty louis
+      that the bird will fall.&rsquo; I answer, &lsquo;Done.&rsquo; The gentleman calls out,
+      &lsquo;Pull;&rsquo; the box opens, the pigeon flies, the shot follows. The bird falls
+      or does not fall. I lose or win fifty louis.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Most interesting!&rdquo; exclaimed Mademoiselle Herzog.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pshaw!&rdquo; said Savinien with ironical indifference, &ldquo;it takes the place of
+      &lsquo;trente et quarante,&rsquo; and is better than &lsquo;odd or even&rsquo; on the numbers of
+      the cabs which pass.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what do the pigeons say to that?&rdquo; asked Pierre, seriously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They are not consulted,&rdquo; said Serge, gayly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then there are races and regattas,&rdquo; continued Savinien.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In which case you bet on the horses?&rdquo; interrupted Marechal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Or on the boats.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In fact, betting is applied to all circumstances of life?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Exactly; and to crown all, we have the Cercle, where we go in the
+      evening. Baccarat triumphs there. It is not very varied either: A hundred
+      louis? Done&mdash;Five. I draw. There are some people who draw at five.
+      Nine, I show up, I win or I lose, and the game continues.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And that amid the glare of gas and the smoke of tobacco,&rdquo; said Marechal,
+      &ldquo;when the nights are so splendid and the orange-trees smell so sweetly.
+      What a strange existence!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An existence for idiots, Marechal,&rdquo; sighed Savinien, &ldquo;that I, a man of
+      business, must submit to, through my aunt&rsquo;s domineering ways! You know now
+      how men of pleasure spend their lives, my friend, and you might write a
+      substantial resume entitled, &lsquo;The Fool&rsquo;s Breviary.&rsquo; I am sure it would
+      sell well.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes, who had heard the last words, was no longer listening.
+      She was lost in a deep reverie. She was much altered since grief and
+      trouble had come upon her; her face was worn, her temples hollow, her chin
+      was more prominent. Her eyes had sunk into her head, and were surrounded
+      by dark rims.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge, leaning against the wall near the window, was observing her. He was
+      wondering with secret anxiety what had brought Madame Desvarennes so
+      suddenly to his house after a separation of two months, during which time
+      she had scarcely written to Micheline. Was the question of money to be
+      resumed? Since the morning Madame had been smiling, calm and pleased like
+      a schoolgirl home for her holidays. This was the first time she had
+      allowed a sad expression to rest on her face. Her gayety was feigned then.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A look crossing his made him start. Jeanne had just turned her eyes toward
+      him. For a second they met his own. Serge could not help shuddering.
+      Jeanne was calling his attention to Madame Desvarennes; she, too, was
+      observing her. Was it on their account she had come to Nice? Had their
+      secret fallen into her hands? He resolved to find out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne had turned away her eyes from him. He could feast his on her now.
+      She had become more beautiful. The tone of her complexion had become
+      warmer. Her figure had developed. Serge longed to call her his own. For a
+      moment his hands trembled; his throat was dry, his heart seemed to stop
+      beating.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He tried to shake off this attraction, and walked to the centre of the
+      room. At the same time visitors were announced. Le Bride, with his
+      inseparable friend, Du Tremblay, escorting Lady Harton, Serge&rsquo;s beautiful
+      cousin, who had caused Micheline some anxiety on the day of her marriage,
+      but whom she no longer feared; then the Prince and Princess Odescalchi,
+      Venetian nobles, followed by Monsieur Clement Souverain, a young Belgian,
+      starter of the Nice races, a great pigeon shot, and a mad leader of
+      cotillons.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, dear me! my lady, all in black?&rdquo; said Micheline, pointing to the
+      tight-fitting black satin worn by the English beauty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, my dear Princess; mourning,&rdquo; replied Lady Harton, with a vigorous
+      shake of the hands. &ldquo;Ball-room mourning&mdash;one of my best partners;
+      gentlemen, you know Harry Tornwall?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Countess Alberti&rsquo;s cavalier?&rdquo; added Serge. &ldquo;Well?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well! he has just killed himself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A concert of exclamations arose in the drawing-room, and the visitors
+      suddenly surrounded her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What! did you not know? It was the sole topic of conversation at Monaco
+      to-day. Poor Tornwall, being completely cleared out, went during the night
+      to the park belonging to the villa occupied by Countess Alberti, and blew
+      his brains out under her window.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How dreadful!&rdquo; exclaimed Micheline.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was very bad taste on your countryman&rsquo;s part,&rdquo; observed Serge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Countess was furious, and said that Tornwall&rsquo;s coming to her house to
+      kill himself proved clearly to her that he did not know how to behave.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you wish to prevent those who are cleared out from blowing out their
+      brains?&rdquo; inquired Cayrol. &ldquo;Compel the pawnbrokers of Monaco to lend a
+      louis on all pistols.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; retorted young Monsieur Souverain, &ldquo;when the louis is lost the
+      players will still be able to hang themselves.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; concluded Marechal, &ldquo;then at any rate the rope will bring luck to
+      others.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gentlemen, do you know that what you have been relating to us is very
+      doleful?&rdquo; said Suzanne Herzog. &ldquo;Suppose, to vary our impressions, you were
+      to ask us to waltz?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, on the terrace,&rdquo; said Le Brede, warmly. &ldquo;A curtain of orange-trees
+      will protect us from the vulgar gaze.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh! Mademoiselle, what a dream!&rdquo; sighed Du Tremblay, approaching Suzanne.
+      &ldquo;Waltzing with you! By moonlight.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, friend Pierrot!&rdquo; sang Suzanne, bursting into a laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Already the piano, vigorously attacked by Pierre, desirous of making
+      himself useful since he could not be agreeable, was heard in the next
+      room. Serge had slowly approached Jeanne.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you do me the favor of dancing with me?&rdquo; he asked, softly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The young woman started; her cheeks became pale, and in a sharp tone she
+      answered:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why don&rsquo;t you ask your wife?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You or nobody.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne raised her eyes boldly, and looking at him in the face, said,
+      defiantly:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, then, nobody!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And, rising, she took the arm of Cayrol, who was advancing toward her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince remained motionless for a moment, following them with his eyes.
+      Then, seeing his wife alone with Madame Desvarennes, he went out on the
+      terrace. Already the couples were dancing on the polished marble. Joyful
+      bursts of laughter rose in the perfumed air that sweet March night. A deep
+      sorrow came over Serge; an intense disgust with all things. The sea
+      sparkled, lit up by the moon. He had a mad longing to seize Jeanne in his
+      arms and carry her far away from the world, across that immense calm space
+      which seemed made expressly to rock sweetly eternal loves.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XV. MOTHER AND DAUGHTER
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Micheline intended following her husband, but Madame Desvarennes, without
+      rising, took hold of her hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Stay with me for a little while,&rdquo; she said, tenderly. &ldquo;We have scarcely
+      exchanged ten words since my arrival. Come, tell me, are you pleased to
+      see me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How can you ask me that?&rdquo; answered Micheline, seating herself on the sofa
+      beside her mother.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I ask you so that you may tell me so,&rdquo; resumed Madame Desvarennes,
+      softly. &ldquo;I know what you think, but that is not enough.&rdquo; She added
+      pleadingly:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Kiss me, will you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Micheline threw her arms round her mother&rsquo;s neck, saying, &ldquo;Dear mamma!&rdquo;
+       which made tears spring to the tortured mother&rsquo;s eyes. She folded
+      her-daughter in her arms, and clasped her as a miser holds his treasure.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is a long time since I have heard you speak thus to me. Two months!
+      And I have been desolate in that large house you used to fill alone in the
+      days gone by.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The young wife interrupted her mother, reproachfully:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh! mamma; I beg you to be reasonable.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To be reasonable? In other words, I suppose you mean that I am to get
+      accustomed to living without you, after having for twenty years devoted my
+      life to you? Bear, without complaining, that my happiness should be taken
+      away, and now that I am old lead a life without aim, without joy, without
+      trouble even, because I know if you had any troubles you would not tell
+      me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a moment&rsquo;s pause. Then Micheline, in a constrained manner, said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What griefs could I have?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes lost all patience, and giving vent to her feelings
+      exclaimed, bitterly:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Those which your husband causes you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Micheline arose abruptly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mother!&rdquo; she cried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But the mistress had commenced, and with unrestrained bitterness, went on:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That gentleman has behaved toward me in such a manner as to shake my
+      confidence in him! After vowing that he would never separate you from me,
+      he brought you here, knowing that I could not leave Paris.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are unjust,&rdquo; retorted Micheline. &ldquo;You know the doctors ordered me to
+      go to Nice.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pooh! You can make doctors order you anything you like!&rdquo; resumed her
+      mother, excitedly, and shaking her head disdainfully. &ldquo;Your husband said
+      to our good Doctor Rigaud: &lsquo;Don&rsquo;t you think that a season in the South
+      would do my wife good?&rsquo; The doctor answered: &lsquo;If it does not do her any
+      good it certainly won&rsquo;t do her any harm.&rsquo; Then your husband added, &lsquo;just
+      take a sheet of paper and write out a prescription. You understand? It is
+      for my mother-in-law, who will not be pleased at our going away.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And as Micheline seemed to doubt what she was saying, the latter added:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The doctor told me when I went to see him about it. I never had much
+      faith in doctors, and now&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Micheline felt she was on delicate ground, and wanted to change the
+      subject. She soothed her mother as in days gone by, saying:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come, mamma; will you never be able to get used to your part? Must you
+      always be jealous? You know all wives leave their mothers to follow their
+      husbands. It is the law of nature. You, in your day, remember, followed
+      your husband, and your mother must have wept.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did my mother love me as I love you?&rdquo; asked Madame Desvarennes,
+      impetuously. &ldquo;I was brought up differently. We had not time to love each
+      other so much. We had to work. The happiness of spoiling one&rsquo;s child is a
+      privilege of the rich. For you there was no down warm enough or silk soft
+      enough to line your cradle. You have been petted and worshipped for twenty
+      years. Yet, it only needed a man, whom you scarcely knew six months ago,
+      to make you forget everything.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have not forgotten anything,&rdquo; replied Micheline, moved by these
+      passionate expressions. &ldquo;And in my heart you still hold the same place.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The mistress looked at the young wife, then, in a sad tone, said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is no longer the first place.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This simple, selfish view made Micheline smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is just like you, you tyrant!&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;You must be first.
+      Come, be satisfied with equality! Remember that you were first in the
+      field, and that for twenty years I have loved you, while he has to make up
+      for lost time. Don&rsquo;t try to make a comparison between my love for him and
+      my affection for you. Be kind: instead of looking black at him, try to
+      love him. I should be so happy to see you united, and to be able, without
+      reservation, to think of you both with the same tenderness!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! how you talk me over. How charming and caressing you can be when you
+      like. And how happy Serge ought to be with a wife like you! It is always
+      the way; men like him always get the best wives.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t suppose, mamma, you came all the way from Paris to run down my
+      husband to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes became serious again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; I came to defend you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Micheline looked surprised.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is time for me to speak. You are seriously menaced,&rdquo; continued the
+      mother.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In my love?&rdquo; asked the young wife, in an altered tone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; in your fortune.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Micheline smiled superbly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If that be all!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This indifference made her mother positively jump.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You speak very coolly about it! At the rate your husband is spending,
+      there will be nothing left of your dowry in six months.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well!&rdquo; said the Princess, gayly, &ldquo;you will give us another.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes assumed her cold businesslike manner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ta! ta! ta! Do you think there is no limit to my resources? I gave you
+      four millions when you were married, represented by fifteen hundred
+      thousand francs, in good stock, a house in the Rue de Rivoli, and eight
+      hundred thousand francs which I prudently kept in the business, and for
+      which I pay you interest. The fifteen hundred thousand francs have
+      vanished. My lawyer came to tell me that the house in the Rue de Rivoli
+      had been sold without a reinvestment taking place.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The mistress stopped. She had spoken in that frank, determined, way of
+      hers that was part of her strength. She looked fixedly at Micheline, and
+      asked:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did you know this, my girl?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Princess, deeply troubled, because now it was not a question of
+      sentiment, but of serious moment, answered, in a low tone:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, mamma.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How is that possible?&rdquo; Madame Desvarennes demanded, hotly. &ldquo;Nothing can
+      be done without your signature.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I gave it,&rdquo; murmured Micheline.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You gave it!&rdquo; repeated the mistress in a tone of anger. &ldquo;When?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The day after my marriage.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your husband had the impudence to ask for it the day after your
+      marriage?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Micheline smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He did not ask for it, mamma,&rdquo; she replied, with sweetness; &ldquo;I offered it
+      to him. You had settled all on me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Prudently! With a fellow like your husband!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your mistrust must have been humiliating to him. I was ashamed of it. I
+      said nothing to you, because I knew you would rather prevent the marriage,
+      and I loved Serge. I, therefore, signed the contract which you had had
+      prepared. Only the next day I gave a general power of attorney to my
+      husband.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes&rsquo;s anger was over. She was observing Micheline, and
+      wished to find out the depth of the abyss into which her daughter had
+      thrown herself with blind confidence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what did he say then?&rdquo; she inquired.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing,&rdquo; answered Micheline, simply. &ldquo;Tears came to his eyes, and he
+      kissed me. I saw that this delicacy touched his heart and I was happy.
+      There, mamma,&rdquo; she added with eyes sparkling at the remembrance of the
+      pleasure she had experienced, &ldquo;he may spend as much as he likes; I am
+      amply repaid beforehand.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes shrugged her shoulders, and said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear child, you are mad enough to be locked up. What is there about
+      the fellow to turn every woman&rsquo;s brain?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Every woman&rsquo;s?&rdquo; exclaimed Micheline, anxiously, looking at her mother.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is a manner of speaking. But, my dear, you must understand that I
+      cannot be satisfied with what you have just told me. A tear and a kiss!
+      Bah! That is not worth your dowry.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come, mamma, do let me be happy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You can be happy without committing follies. You do not need a
+      racing-stable.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, he has chosen such pretty colors,&rdquo; interrupted Micheline, with a
+      smile. &ldquo;Pearl-gray and silver, and pink cap. It is charming!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You think so? Well, you are not difficult to please. And the club? What
+      do you say to his gambling?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Micheline turned pale, and with a constraint which hurt her mother, said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it necessary to make a fuss about a few games at bouillotte?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This continual defense of Serge exasperated Madame Desvarennes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t talk to me,&rdquo; she continued, violently. &ldquo;I am well informed on that
+      subject. He leaves you alone every evening to go and play with gentlemen
+      who turn up the king with a dexterity the Legitimists must envy. My dear,
+      shall I tell you his fortune? He commenced with cards; he continues with
+      horses; he will finish with worthless women!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mamma!&rdquo; cried Micheline, wounded to the heart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And your money will pay the piper! But, happily, I am here to put your
+      household matters right. I am going to keep your gentleman so well under
+      that in future he will walk straight, I&rsquo;ll warrant you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Micheline rose and stood before her mother, looking so pale that the
+      latter was frightened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mother,&rdquo; she said, in trembling tones, &ldquo;if ever you say one word to my
+      husband, take care! I shall never see you again!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes flinched before her daughter. It was no longer the weak
+      Micheline who trusted to her tears, but a vehement woman ready to defend
+      him whom she loved. And as she remained silent, not daring to speak again:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mother,&rdquo; continued Micheline, with sadness, yet firmly, &ldquo;this explanation
+      was inevitable; I have suffered beforehand, knowing that I should have to
+      choose between my affection for my husband and my respect for you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Between the one and the other,&rdquo; said the mistress, bitterly, &ldquo;you don&rsquo;t
+      hesitate, I see.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is my duty; and if I failed in it, you yourself, with your good sense,
+      would see it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh! Micheline, could I have expected to find you thus?&rdquo; cried the mother,
+      in despair. &ldquo;What a change! It is not you who are speaking; it is not my
+      daughter. Fool that you are! Don&rsquo;t you see whither you are being led? You,
+      yourself, are preparing your own misfortune. Don&rsquo;t think that my words are
+      inspired by jealousy. A higher sentiment dictates them, and at this moment
+      my maternal love gives me, I fear, a foresight of the future. There is
+      only just time to rescue you from the danger into which you are running.
+      You hope to retain your husband by your generosity? There where you think
+      you are giving proofs of love he will only see proofs of weakness. If you
+      make yourself cheap he will count you as nothing. If you throw yourself at
+      his feet he will trample on you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Princess shook her head haughtily, and smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You don&rsquo;t know him, mamma. He is a gentleman; he understands all these
+      delicacies, and there is more to be gained by submitting one&rsquo;s self to his
+      discretion, than by trying to resist his will. You blame his manner of
+      existence, but you don&rsquo;t understand him. I know him. He belongs to a
+      different race than you and I. He needs refinements of luxury which would
+      be useless to us, but the deprivation of which would be hard to him. He
+      suffered much when he was poor, he is making up for it now. We are guilty
+      of some extravagances, &lsquo;tis true; but what does it matter? For whom have
+      you made a fortune? For me! For what object? My happiness! Well, I am
+      happy to surround my Prince with the glory and pomp which suits him so
+      well. He is grateful to me; he loves me, and I hold his love dearer than
+      all else in the world; for if ever he ceases to love me I shall die!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Micheline!&rdquo; cried Madame Desvarennes, beside herself, and seizing her
+      daughter with nervous strength.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The young wife quietly allowed her fair head to fall on her mother&rsquo;s
+      shoulder, and whispered faintly in her ear:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You don&rsquo;t want to wreck my life. I understand your displeasure. It is
+      natural; I feel it. You cannot think otherwise than you do, being a
+      simple, hardworking woman; but I beg of you to banish all hatred, and
+      confine these ideas within yourself. Say nothing more about them for love
+      of me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The mother was vanquished. She had never been able to resist that
+      suppliant voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! cruel child,&rdquo; she moaned, &ldquo;what pain you are causing me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You consent, don&rsquo;t you, dear mother?&rdquo; murmured Micheline, falling into
+      the arms of her by whom she knew she was adored.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will do as you wish,&rdquo; said Madame Desvarennes, kissing her daughter&rsquo;s
+      hair&mdash;that golden hair which, in former days, she loved to stroke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The strains of the piano sounded on the terrace. In the shade, groups of
+      merry dancers were enjoying themselves. Happy voices were heard
+      approaching, and Savinien, followed by Marechal and Suzanne, came briskly
+      up the steps.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, aunt, it is not fair,&rdquo; said the dandy. &ldquo;If you have come here to
+      monopolize Micheline, you will be sent back to Paris. We want a vis-a-vis
+      for a quadrille. Come, Princess, it is delightfully cool outside, and I am
+      sure you will enjoy it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur Le Brede has gathered some oranges, and is trying to play at cup
+      and ball with them on his nose, while his friend, Monsieur du Tremblay,
+      jealous of his success, talks of illuminating the trees with bowls of
+      punch,&rdquo; said Marechal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what is Serge doing?&rdquo; inquired Micheline, smiling.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is talking to my wife on the terrace,&rdquo; said Cayrol, appearing in the
+      gallery.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The young people went off and were lost in the darkness. Madame
+      Desvarennes looked at Cayrol. He was happy and calm. There was no trace of
+      his former jealousy. During the six months which had elapsed since his
+      marriage, the banker had observed his wife closely, her actions, her
+      words: nothing had escaped him. He had never found her at fault. Thus,
+      reassured, he had given her his confidence and this time forever. Jeanne
+      was adorable; he loved her more than ever. She seemed very much changed to
+      him. Her disposition, formerly somewhat harsh, had softened, and the
+      haughty, capricious girl had become a mild, demure, and somewhat serious
+      woman. Unable to read his companion&rsquo;s thoughts, Cayrol sincerely believed
+      that he had been unnecessarily anxious, and that Jeanne&rsquo;s troubles had
+      only been passing fancies. He took credit of the change in his wife to
+      himself, and was proud of it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Cayrol, oblige me by removing that lamp; it hurts my eyes,&rdquo; said Madame
+      Desvarennes, anxious that the traces on her face, caused by her late
+      discussion with her daughter, should not be visible. &ldquo;Then ask Jeanne to
+      come here for a few minutes. I have something to say to her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly,&rdquo; said Cayrol, taking the lamp off the table and carrying it
+      into the adjoining room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Darkness did Madame Desvarennes good. It refreshed her mind and calmed her
+      brow. The noise of dancing reached her. She commenced thinking. So it had
+      vainly tried to prove to her that a life of immoderate pleasure was not
+      conducive to happiness. The young wife had stopped her ears so that she
+      might not hear, and closed her eyes that she might not see. Her mother
+      asked herself if she did not exaggerate the evil. Alas! no. She saw that
+      she was not mistaken. Examining the society around her, men and women:
+      everywhere was feverish excitement, dissipation, and nullity. You might
+      rummage through their brains without finding one practical idea; in all
+      their hearts, there was not one lofty aspiration. These people, in their
+      daily life were like squirrels in a cage, and because they moved, they
+      thought they were progressing. In them scepticism had killed belief;
+      religion, family, country, were, as they phrased it, all humbug. They had
+      only one aim, one passion&mdash;to enjoy themselves. Their watchword was
+      &ldquo;pleasure.&rdquo; All those who did not perish of consumption would die in
+      lunatic asylums.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      What was she doing in the midst of this rottenness? She, the woman of
+      business? Could she hope to regenerate these poor wretches by her example?
+      No! She could not teach them to be good, and they excelled in teaching
+      others harm. She must leave this gilded vice, taking with her those she
+      loved, and leave the idle and incompetent to consume and destroy
+      themselves.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She felt disgusted, and resolved to do all to tear Micheline away from the
+      contagion. In the meantime she must question Jeanne. A shadow appeared on
+      the threshold: it was hers. In the darkness of the gallery Serge crept
+      behind her without being seen. He had been watching Jeanne, and seeing her
+      go away alone, had followed her. In the angle of the large bay-window,
+      opening into the garden, he waited with palpitating heart. Madame
+      Desvarennes&rsquo;s voice was heard in the silence of the drawing-room; he
+      listened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sit down, Jeanne; our interview will be short, and it could not be
+      delayed, for to-morrow I shall not be here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are leaving so soon?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; I only left Paris on my daughter&rsquo;s account, and on yours. My
+      daughter knows what I had to tell her; now it is your turn! Why did you
+      come to Nice?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I could not do otherwise.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because my husband wished it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You ought to have made him wish something else. Your power over him is
+      absolute.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a moment&rsquo;s pause. Then Jeanne answered:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I feared to insist lest I should awaken his suspicions.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good! But admitting that you came to Nice, why accept hospitality in this
+      house?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Micheline offered it to us,&rdquo; said Jeanne.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And even that did not make you refuse. What part do you purpose playing
+      here? After six months of honesty, are you going to change your mind?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge, behind his shelter, shuddered. Madame Desvarennes&rsquo;s words were
+      clear. She knew all.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne&rsquo;s voice was indignant when she replied:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By what right do you insult me by such a suspicion?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By the right which you have given me in not keeping to your bargain. You
+      ought to have kept out of the way, and I find you here, seeking danger and
+      already trying those flirtations which are the forerunners of sin, and
+      familiarizing yourself with evil before wholly giving yourself up to it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame!&rdquo; cried Jeanne, passionately.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Answer! Have you kept the promise you made me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have the hopes which you held out to me been realized?&rdquo; replied Jeanne,
+      with despair. &ldquo;For six months I have been away, and have I found peace of
+      mind and heart? The duty which you pointed out to me as a remedy for the
+      pain which tortured me I have fruitlessly followed. I have wept, hoping
+      that the trouble within me would be washed away with my tears. I have
+      prayed to Heaven, and asked that I might love my husband. But, no! That
+      man is as odious to me as ever. Now I have lost all my illusions, and find
+      myself joined to him for the rest of my days! I have to tell lies, to wear
+      a mask, to smile! It is revolting, and I suffer! Now that you know what is
+      passing within me, judge, and say whether your reproaches are not a
+      useless cruelty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      On hearing Jeanne, Madame Desvarennes felt herself moved with deep pity.
+      She asked herself whether it was not unjust for that poor child to suffer
+      so much. She had never done anything wrong, and her conduct was worthy of
+      esteem.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Unhappy woman!&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, unhappy, indeed,&rdquo; resumed Jeanne, &ldquo;because I have nothing to cling
+      to, nothing to sustain me. My mind is afflicted with feverish thoughts, my
+      heart made desolate with bitter regrets. My will alone protects me, and in
+      a moment of weakness it may betray me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You still love him?&rdquo; asked Madame Desvarennes, in a deep voice which made
+      Serge quiver.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do I know? There are times when I think I hate him. What I have endured
+      since I have been here is incredible! Everything galls me, irritates me.
+      My husband is blind, Micheline unsuspicious, and Serge smiles quietly, as
+      if he were preparing some treachery. Jealousy, anger, contempt, are all
+      conflicting within me. I feel that I ought to go away, and still I feel a
+      horrible delight in remaining.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Poor child!&rdquo; said Madame Desvarennes. &ldquo;I pity you from my soul. Forgive
+      my unjust words; you have done all in your power. You have had momentary
+      weaknesses like all human beings. You must be helped, and may rely on me.
+      I will speak to your husband to-morrow; he shall take you away. Lacking
+      happiness, you must have peace. Go you are a brave heart, and if Heaven be
+      just, you will be rewarded.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge heard the sound of a kiss. In an embrace, the mother had blessed her
+      adopted daughter. Then the Prince saw Madame Desvarennes go slowly past
+      him. And the silence was broken only by the sobs of Jeanne who was half
+      lying on the sofa in the darkness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XVI. THE TELLTALE KISS
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Serge slipped from his hiding-place and came toward Jeanne. The carpet
+      deadened the sound of his steps. The young woman was gazing into vacancy
+      and breathing with difficulty. He looked at her for a moment without
+      speaking; then, leaning over her shoulder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it true, Jeanne,&rdquo; he murmured, softly, &ldquo;that you hate me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne arose, bewildered, exclaiming,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Serge!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Serge,&rdquo; answered the Prince, &ldquo;who has never ceased to love you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A deep blush spread over the young woman&rsquo;s face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Leave me,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Your language is unworthy of a man. I will not
+      listen to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And with a quick step she walked toward the gallery. Serge threw himself
+      in her way, saying:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You must stop; you cannot escape me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But this is madness,&rdquo; exclaimed Jeanne, moving away. &ldquo;Do you forget where
+      we are?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you forget what you have just been saying?&rdquo; retorted Serge. &ldquo;I was
+      there; I did not miss a word.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you heard me,&rdquo; said Jeanne, &ldquo;you know that everything separates us. My
+      duty, yours, and my will.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A will which is enforced, and against which your heart rebels. A will to
+      which I will not submit.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As he spoke, Serge advanced toward her, trying to seize her in his arms.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take care!&rdquo; replied Jeanne. &ldquo;Micheline and my husband are there. You must
+      be mad to forget it. If you come a step farther I shall call out.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Call, then!&rdquo; cried Serge, clasping her in his arms.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne tried to free herself from him, but could not.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Serge,&rdquo; she said, paling with mingled anguish and rapture in the arms of
+      him whom she adored, &ldquo;what you are doing is cowardly and base!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A kiss stopped the words on her lips. Jeanne felt herself giving way. She
+      made a supreme effort.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I won&rsquo;t, Serge!&rdquo; she stammered. &ldquo;Have mercy!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Tears of shame rolled down her face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No! you belong to me. The other, your husband, stole you from me. I take
+      you back. I love you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The young woman fell on a seat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge repeated,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I love you! I love you! I love you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A fearful longing took possession of Jeanne. She no longer pushed away the
+      arms which clasped her. She placed her hands on Serge&rsquo;s shoulder, and with
+      a deep sigh gave herself up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A profound silence reigned around. Suddenly a sound of approaching voices
+      roused them, and at the same moment the heavy curtain which separated the
+      room from the adjoining drawing-room was lifted. A shadow appeared on the
+      threshold, as they were still in each other&rsquo;s arms. The stifled
+      exclamation, &ldquo;O God!&rdquo; followed by a sob of agony, resounded. The door
+      curtain fell, surrounding with its folds the unknown witness of that
+      terrible scene.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne had risen, trying to collect her ideas. A sudden light dawned on
+      her mind; she realized in a moment the extent of her crime, and uttering a
+      cry of horror and despair, she escaped, followed by Serge, through the
+      gallery.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then the heavy curtain was lifted again, and tottering, livid, almost
+      dead, Micheline entered the room. Pierre, serious and cold, walked behind
+      her. The Princess, feeling tired, had come into the house. Chance had led
+      her there to witness this proof of misfortune and treason.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Both she and Delarue looked at each other, silent and overwhelmed. Their
+      thoughts whirled through their brains with fearful rapidity. In a moment
+      they looked back on their existence. He saw the pale betrothed of whom he
+      had dreamed as a wife, who had willingly given herself to another, and who
+      now found herself so cruelly punished. She measured the distance which
+      separated these two men: the one good, loyal, generous; the other selfish,
+      base, and unworthy. And seeing him whom she adored, so vile and base
+      compared to him whom she had disdained, Micheline burst into bitter tears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pierre tremblingly hastened toward her. The Princess made a movement to
+      check him, but she saw on the face of her childhood&rsquo;s friend such sincere
+      grief and honest indignation, that she felt as safe, with him as if he had
+      really been her brother. Overcome, she let her head fall on his shoulder,
+      and wept.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The sound of approaching footsteps made Micheline arise. She recognized
+      her husband&rsquo;s step, and hastily seizing Pierre&rsquo;s hand, said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never breathe a word; forget what you have seen.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Then, with deep grief, she added:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If Serge knew that I had seen him unawares he would never forgive me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Drying her tears, and still tottering from the shock, she left the room.
+      Pierre remained alone, quite stunned; pitying, yet blaming the poor woman,
+      who, in her outraged love, still had the absurd courage to hold her tongue
+      and to resign herself. Anger seized on him, and the more timid Micheline
+      seemed herself, the more violent and passionate he felt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge came back to the room. After the first moment of excitement, he had
+      reflected, and wanted to know by whom he had been observed. Was it Madame
+      Desvarennes, Micheline, or Cayrol, who had come in? At this idea he
+      trembled, measuring the possible results of the imprudence he had been
+      guilty of. He resolved to face the difficulty if it were either of these
+      three interested parties, and to impose silence if he had to deal with an
+      indifferent person. He took the lamp which Madame Desvarennes had a short
+      time before asked Cayrol to remove and went into the room. Pierre was
+      there alone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The two men measured each other with their looks. Delarue guessed the
+      anxiety of Serge, and the Prince understood the hostility of Pierre. He
+      turned pale.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was you who came in?&rdquo; he asked, boldly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; replied Pierre, with severity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince hesitated for a second. He was evidently seeking a polite form
+      to express his request. He did not find one, and in a threatening manner,
+      he resumed:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You must hold your tongue, otherwise&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Otherwise?&rdquo; inquired Pierce, aggressively.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is the use of threats?&rdquo; replied Serge, already calmed. &ldquo;Excuse me; I
+      know that you will not tell; if not for my sake at least for that of
+      others.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, for others,&rdquo; said Pierre, passionately; &ldquo;for others whom you have
+      basely sacrificed, and who deserve all your respect and love; for Madame
+      Desvarennes, whose high intelligence you have not been able to understand;
+      for Micheline, whose tender heart you have not been able to appreciate.
+      Yes, for their sakes I will hold my peace, not out of regard for you,
+      because you neither deserve consideration nor esteem.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince advanced a step, and exclaimed:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pierre!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pierre did not move, and looking Serge in the face, continued:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The truth is unpleasant to you, still you must hear it. You act according
+      to your fancies. Principles and morals, to which all men submit, are dead
+      letters to you. Your own pleasure above all things, and always! That is
+      your rule, eh? and so much the worse if ruin and trouble to others are the
+      consequences? You only have to deal with two women, and you profit by it.
+      But I warn you that if you continue to crush them I will be their
+      defender.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge had listened to all this with disdainful impassibility, and when
+      Pierre had finished, he smiled, snapped his fingers, and turning toward
+      the young man:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear fellow,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;allow me to tell you that I think you are very
+      impertinent. You come here meddling with my affairs. What authority have
+      you? Are you a relative? A connection? By what right do you preach this
+      sermon?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As he concluded, Serge seated himself and laughed with a careless air.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pierre answered, gravely:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was betrothed to Micheline when she saw and loved you: that is my
+      right! I could have married her, but sacrificed my love to hers: that is
+      my authority! And it is in the name of my shattered hopes and lost
+      happiness that I call you to account for her future peace.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge had risen, he was deeply embittered at what Delarue had just told
+      him, and was trying to recover his calmness. Pierre, trembling with
+      emotion and anger, was also striving to check their influence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It seems to me,&rdquo; said the Prince, mockingly, &ldquo;that in your claim there is
+      more than the outcry of an irritated conscience; it is the complaint of a
+      heart that still loves.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And if that were so?&rdquo; retorted Pierre. &ldquo;Yes, I love her, but with a pious
+      love, from the depth of my soul, as one would love a saint; and I only
+      suffer the more to see her suffering.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Somewhat irritated the Prince exclaimed, impatiently:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, don&rsquo;t let us have a lyric recitation; let us be brief and clear. What
+      do you want? Explain yourself. I don&rsquo;t suppose that you have addressed
+      this rebuke to me solely for the purpose of telling me that you are in
+      love with my wife!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pierre disregarded what was insulting in the Prince&rsquo;s answer, and calming
+      himself, by force of will, replied:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I desire, since you ask me, that you forget the folly and error of a
+      moment, and that you swear to me on your honor never to see Madame Cayrol
+      again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pierre&rsquo;s moderation wounded the Prince more than his rage had affected
+      him. He felt petty beside this devoted friend, who only thought of the
+      happiness of her whom he loved without hope. His temper increased.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what if I refuse to lend myself to those whims which you express so
+      candidly?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then,&rdquo; said Pierre, resolutely, &ldquo;I shall remember that, when renouncing
+      Micheline, I promised to be a brother to her, and if you compel me I will
+      defend her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are threatening me, I think,&rdquo; cried Serge, beside himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No! I warn you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Enough,&rdquo; said the Prince, scarcely able to command himself. &ldquo;For any
+      little service you have rendered me, from henceforth we are quits. Don&rsquo;t
+      think that I am one of those who yield to violence. Keep out of my path;
+      it will be prudent.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Listen, then, to this. I am not one of those who shirk a duty, whatever
+      the peril be in accomplishing it. You know what price I put on Micheline&rsquo;s
+      happiness; you are responsible for it, and I shall oblige you to respect
+      it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And leaving Serge dumb with suppressed rage, Pierre went out on the
+      terrace.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On the high road the sound of the carriages bearing away Savinien, Herzog
+      and his daughter, resounded in the calm starry night. In the villa
+      everything was quiet. Pierre breathed with delight; he instinctively
+      turned his eyes toward the brilliant sky, and in the far-off firmament,
+      the star which he appropriated to himself long ago, and which he had so
+      desperately looked for when he was unhappy, suddenly appeared bright and
+      twinkling. He sighed and moved on.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince spent a part of the night at the club; he was excessively
+      nervous, and after alternate losses and gains, he retired, carrying off a
+      goodly sum from his opponents. It was a long time since he had been so
+      lucky, and on his way home he smiled when he thought how false was the
+      proverb, &ldquo;Lucky at play, unlucky in love.&rdquo; He thought of that adorable
+      Jeanne whom he had held in his arms a few hours before, and who had so
+      eagerly clung to him. He understood that she had never ceased to belong to
+      him. The image of Cayrol, self-confident man, happy in his love, coming to
+      his mind, caused Serge to laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was no thought for Micheline; she had been the stepping-stone to
+      fortune for him; he knew that she was gentle and thought her not very
+      discerning. He could easily deceive her; with a few caresses and a little
+      consideration he could maintain the illusion of his love for her. Madame
+      Desvarennes alone inconvenienced him in his arrangements. She was
+      sagacious, and on several occasions he had seen her unveil plots which he
+      thought were well contrived. He must really beware of her. He had often
+      noticed in her voice and look an alarming hardness. She was not a woman to
+      be afraid of a scandal. On the contrary, she would hail it with joy, and
+      be happy to get rid of him whom she hated with all her might.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In spite of himself, Serge remembered the night of his union to Micheline,
+      when he had said to Madame Desvarennes: &ldquo;Take my life; it is yours!&rdquo; She
+      had replied seriously, and almost threateningly: &ldquo;Very well; I accept it!&rdquo;
+       These words now resounded in his ears like a verdict. He promised himself
+      to play a sure game with Madame Desvarennes. As to Cayrol, he was out of
+      the question; he had only been created as a plaything for princes such as
+      Serge; his destiny was written on his forehead, and he could not escape.
+      If it had not been Panine, some one else would have done the same thing
+      for him. Besides, how could that ex-cowherd expect to keep such a woman as
+      Jeanne was to himself. It would have been manifestly unfair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince found his valet asleep in the hall. He went quickly to his
+      bedroom, and slept soundly without remorse, without dreams, until noon.
+      Coming down to breakfast, he found the family assembled. Savinien had come
+      to see his aunt, before whom he wanted to place a &ldquo;colossal idea.&rdquo; This
+      time, he said, it was worth a fortune. He hoped to draw six thousand
+      francs from the mistress who, according to her usual custom, could not
+      fail to buy from him what he called his idea.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The dandy was thoughtful; he was preparing his batteries. Micheline, pale,
+      and her eyes red for want of rest, was seated near the gallery, silently
+      watching the sea, on which were passing, in the distance, fishing-smacks
+      with their sails looking like white-winged birds. Madame Desvarennes was
+      serious, and was giving Marechal instructions respecting her
+      correspondence, while at the same time watching her daughter out of the
+      corner of her eye. Micheline&rsquo;s depressed manner caused her some anxiety;
+      she guessed some mystery. Still the young wife&rsquo;s trouble might be the
+      result of last evening&rsquo;s serious interview. But the sagacity of the
+      mistress guessed a new incident. Perhaps some scene between Serge and
+      Micheline in regard to the club. She was on the watch.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cayrol and Jeanne had gone for a drive to Mentone. With a single glance
+      the Prince took in the attitude of one and all, and after a polite
+      exchange of words and a careless kiss on Micheline&rsquo;s brow, he seated
+      himself at table. The repast was silent. Each one seemed preoccupied.
+      Serge anxiously asked himself whether Pierre had spoken. Marechal, deeply
+      interested in his plate, answered briefly, when addressed by Madame
+      Desvarennes. All the guests seemed constrained. It was a relief when they
+      rose from the table.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Micheline took her husband&rsquo;s arm and leading him into the garden, under
+      the shade of the magnolias, said to him:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My mother leaves us to-night. She has received a letter recalling her to
+      Paris. Her journey here was, you no doubt know, on our account. Our
+      absence made her sad, and she could no longer refrain from seeing me, so
+      she came. On her return to Paris she will feel very lonely, and as I am so
+      often alone&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Micheline!&rdquo; interrupted Serge, with astonishment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is not a reproach, dear,&rdquo; continued the young wife, sweetly. &ldquo;You have
+      your engagements. There are necessities to which one must submit; you do
+      what you think is expected of you, and it must be right. Only grant me a
+      favor.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A favor? To you?&rdquo; replied Serge, troubled at the unexpected turn the
+      interview was taking. &ldquo;Speak, dear one; are you not at liberty to do as
+      you like?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; said Micheline, with a faint smile, &ldquo;as you are so kindly
+      disposed, promise that we shall leave for Paris this week. The season is
+      far advancing. All your friends will have returned. It will not be such a
+      great sacrifice which I ask from you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Willingly,&rdquo; said Serge, surprised at Micheline&rsquo;s sudden resolution. &ldquo;But,
+      admit,&rdquo; added he, gravely, &ldquo;that your mother has worried you a little on
+      the subject.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My mother knows nothing of my project,&rdquo; returned the Princess, coldly. &ldquo;I
+      did not care to say anything about it to her until I had your consent. A
+      refusal on your part would have seemed too cruel. Already, you are not the
+      best of friends, and it is one of my regrets. You must be good to my
+      mother, Serge; she is getting old, and we owe her much gratitude and
+      love.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Panine remained silent. Could such a sudden change have come over
+      Micheline in one day? She who lately sacrificed her mother for her husband
+      now came and pleaded in favor of Madame Desvarennes. What had happened?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He promptly decided on his course of action.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All that you ask me shall be religiously fulfilled. No concession will be
+      too difficult for me to make if it please you. You wish to return to
+      Paris, we will go as soon as our arrangements have been made. Tell Madame
+      Desvarennes, then, and let her see in our going a proof that I wish to
+      live on good terms with her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Micheline simply said: &ldquo;Thank you.&rdquo; And Serge having gallantly kissed her
+      hand, she regained the terrace.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Left alone, Serge asked himself the meaning of the transformation in his
+      wife. For the first time she had shown signs of taking the initiative. Had
+      the question of money been raised by Madame Desvarennes, and was Micheline
+      taking him back to Paris in the hope of inducing a change in his habits?
+      They would see. The idea that Micheline had seen him with Jeanne never
+      occurred to him. He did not think his wife capable of so much
+      self-control. Loving as she was, she could not have controlled her
+      feelings, and would have made a disturbance. Therefore he had no
+      suspicions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As to their leaving for Paris he was delighted at the idea. Jeanne and
+      Cayrol were leaving Nice at the end of the week. Lost in the vastness of
+      the capital, the lovers would be more secure. They could see each other at
+      leisure. Serge would hire a small house in the neighborhood of the Bois de
+      Boulogne, and there they could enjoy each other&rsquo;s society without
+      observation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XVII. CAYROL IS BLIND
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Micheline, on her return to Paris, was a cause of anxiety to all her
+      friends. Morally and physically she was changed. Her former gayety had
+      disappeared. In a few weeks she became thin and seemed to be wasting away.
+      Madame Desvarennes, deeply troubled, questioned her daughter, who
+      answered, evasively, that she was perfectly well and had nothing to
+      trouble her. The mother called in Doctor Rigaud, although she did not
+      believe in the profession, and, after a long conference, took him to see
+      Micheline. The doctor examined her, and declared it was nothing but
+      debility. Madame Desvarennes was assailed with gloomy forebodings. She
+      spent sleepless nights, during which she thought her daughter was dead;
+      she heard the funeral dirges around her coffin. This strong woman wept,
+      not daring to show her anxiety, and trembling lest Micheline should
+      suspect her fears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge was careless and happy, treating the apprehensions of those
+      surrounding him with perfect indifference. He did not think his wife was
+      ill&mdash;a little tired perhaps, or it might be change of climate,
+      nothing serious. He had quite fallen into his old ways, spending every
+      night at the club, and a part of the day in a little house in the Avenue
+      Maillot, near the Bois de Boulogne. He had found one charmingly furnished,
+      and there he sheltered his guilty happiness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was here that Jeanne came, thickly veiled, since her return from Nice.
+      They each had a latchkey belonging to the door opening upon the Bois. The
+      one who arrived first waited for the other, within the house, whose
+      shutters remained closed to deceive passers-by. Then the hour of departure
+      came; the hope of meeting again did not lessen their sadness at parting.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne seldom went to the Rue Saint-Dominique. The welcome that Micheline
+      gave her was the same as usual, but Jeanne thought she discovered a
+      coldness which made her feel uncomfortable; and she did not care to meet
+      her lover&rsquo;s wife, so she made her visits scarce.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cayrol came every morning to talk on business matters with Madame
+      Desvarennes. He had resumed the direction of his banking establishment.
+      The great scheme of the European Credit Company had been launched by
+      Herzog, and promised great results. Still Herzog caused Cayrol
+      considerable anxiety. Although a man of remarkable intelligence, he had a
+      great failing, and by trying to grasp too much often ended by
+      accomplishing nothing. Scarcely was one scheme launched when another idea
+      occurred to him, to which he sacrificed the former.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thus, Herzog was projecting a still grander scheme to be based on the
+      European Credit. Cayrol, less sanguine, and more practical, was afraid of
+      the new scheme, and when Herzog spoke to him about it, said that things
+      were well enough for him as they were, and that he would not be implicated
+      in any fresh financial venture however promising.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cayrol&rsquo;s refusal had vexed Herzog. The German knew what opinion he was
+      held in by the public, and that without the prestige of Cayrol&rsquo;s name, and
+      behind that, the house of Desvarennes, he would never have been able to
+      float the European Credit as it had been. He was too cunning not to know
+      this, and Cayrol having declined to join him, he looked round in search of
+      a suitable person to inspire the shareholders with confidence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His daughter often went to the Rue Saint-Dominique. Madame Desvarennes and
+      Micheline had taken a fancy to her, as she was serious, natural, and
+      homelike. They liked to see her, although her father was not congenial to
+      their taste. Herzog had not succeeded in making friends with the mistress;
+      she disliked and instinctively mistrusted him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One day it was rumored that Suzanne Herzog had gone in for an examination
+      at the Hotel de Ville, and had gained a certificate: People thought it was
+      very ridiculous. What was the good of so much learning for a girl who
+      would have such a large fortune, and who would never know want. Savinien
+      thought it was affectation and most laughable! Madame Desvarennes thought
+      it was most interesting; she liked workers, and considered that the richer
+      people were, the more reason they had to work. Herzog had allowed his
+      daughter to please herself and said nothing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Springtime had come, and fine weather, yet Micheline&rsquo;s health did not
+      improve. She did not suffer, but a sort of languor had come over her. For
+      days she never quitted her reclining-chair. She was very affectionate
+      toward her mother, and seemed to be making up for the lack of affection
+      shown during the first months of her marriage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She never questioned Serge as to his manner of spending his time, though
+      she seldom saw him, except at meal hours. Every week she wrote to Pierre,
+      who was buried in his mines, and after every despatch her mother noticed
+      that she seemed sadder and paler.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge and Jeanne grew bolder. They felt that they were not watched. The
+      little house seemed too small for them, and they longed to go beyond the
+      garden, as the air of the Bois was so sweet and scented with violets. A
+      feeling of bravado came over them, and they did not mind being seen
+      together. People would think they were a newly-married couple.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One afternoon they sallied forth, Jeanne wearing a thick veil, and
+      trembling at the risk she was running, yet secretly delighted at going.
+      They chose the most unfrequented paths and solitary nooks. Then, after an
+      hour&rsquo;s stroll, they returned briskly, frightened at the sounds of
+      carriages rolling in the distance. They often went out after that, and
+      chose in preference the paths near the pond of Madrid where, behind
+      sheltering shrubs, they sat talking and listening to the busy hum of
+      Parisian life, seemingly so far away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One day, about four o&rsquo;clock, Madame Desvarennes was going to Saint-Cloud
+      on business, and was crossing the Bois de Boulogne. Her coachman had
+      chosen the most unfrequented paths to save time. She had opened the
+      carriage-window, and was enjoying the lovely scent from the shrubs.
+      Suddenly a watering-cart stopped the way. Madame Desvarennes looked
+      through the window to see what was the matter, and remained stupefied. At
+      the turning of a path she espied Serge, with a woman on his arm. She
+      uttered a cry that caused the couple to turn round. Seeing that pale face,
+      they sought to hide themselves.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In a moment Madame Desvarennes was out of the carriage. The guilty couple
+      fled down a path. Without caring what might be said of her, and goaded on
+      by a fearful rage, she tried to follow them. She especially wished to see
+      the woman who was closely veiled. She guessed her to be Jeanne. But the
+      younger woman, terrified, fled like a deer down a side walk. Madame
+      Desvarennes, quite out of breath, was obliged to stop. She heard the
+      slamming of a carriage-door, and a hired brougham that had been waiting at
+      the end of the path swept by her bearing the lovers toward the town.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The mistress hesitated a moment, then said to her coachman:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Drive home.&rdquo; And, abandoning her business, she arrived in the Rue
+      Saint-Dominique a few minutes after the Prince.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With a bound, without going through the offices, without even taking off
+      her bonnet and cloak, she went up to Serge&rsquo;s apartments. Without
+      hesitating, she entered the smoking-room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Panine was there. Evidently he was expecting her. On seeing Madame
+      Desvarennes he rose, with a smile:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One can see that you are at home,&rdquo; said he, ironically; &ldquo;you come in
+      without knocking.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No nonsense; the moment is ill-chosen,&rdquo; briefly retorted the mistress.
+      &ldquo;Why did you run away when you saw me a little while ago?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have such a singular way of accosting people,&rdquo; he answered, lightly.
+      &ldquo;You come on like a charge of cavalry. The person with whom I was talking
+      was frightened, she ran away and I followed her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She was doing wrong then if she was frightened. Does she know me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who does not know you? You are almost notorious&mdash;in the
+      corn-market!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes allowed the insult to pass without remark, and
+      advancing toward Serge, said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who is this woman?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shall I introduce her to you?&rdquo; inquired the Prince, quietly. &ldquo;She is one
+      of my countrywomen, a Polish&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are a liar!&rdquo; cried Madame Desvarennes, unable to control her temper
+      any longer. &ldquo;You are lying most impudently!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And she was going to add, &ldquo;That woman was Jeanne!&rdquo; but prudence checked
+      the sentence on her lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge turned pale.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You forget yourself strangely, Madame,&rdquo; he said, in a dry tone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I forgot myself a year ago, not now! It was when I was weak that I forgot
+      myself. When Micheline was between you and me I neither dared to speak nor
+      act.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But now, since after almost ruining my poor daughter, you deceive her, I
+      have no longer any consideration for you. To make her come over to my side
+      I have only to speak one word.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, speak it! She is there. I will call her!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes, in that supreme moment, was assailed by a doubt. What
+      if Micheline, in her blind love, did not believe her?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She raised her hand to stop Serge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will not the fear of killing my daughter by this revelation stay you?&rdquo;
+       asked she, bitterly. &ldquo;What manner of man are you to have so little heart
+      and conscience?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Panine burst into laughter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You see what your threats are worth, and what value I place on them.
+      Spare them in the future. You ask me what manner of man I am? I will tell
+      you. I have not much patience, I hate to have my liberty interfered with,
+      and I have a horror of family jars. I expect to be master of my own
+      house.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes was roused at these words. Her rage had abated on her
+      daughter&rsquo;s account, but now it rose to a higher pitch.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! so this is it, is it?&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;You would like perfect liberty, I
+      see! You make such very good use of it. You don&rsquo;t like to hear remarks
+      upon it. It is more convenient, in fact! You wish to be master in your own
+      house? In your own house! But, in truth, what are you here to put on airs
+      toward me? Scarcely more than a servant. A husband receiving wages from
+      me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge, with flashing eyes, made a terrible movement. He tried to speak,
+      but his lips trembled, and he could not utter a sound. By a sign he showed
+      Madame Desvarennes the door. The latter looked resolutely at the Prince,
+      and with energy which nothing could henceforth soften, added:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will have to deal with me in future! Good-day!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And, leaving the room with as much calmness as she felt rage when entering
+      it, she went down to the counting-house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cayrol was sitting chatting with Marechal in his room. He was telling him
+      that Herzog&rsquo;s rashness caused him much anxiety. Marechal did not encourage
+      his confidence. The secretary&rsquo;s opinion on the want of morality on the
+      part of the financier had strengthened. The good feeling he entertained
+      toward the daughter had not counterbalanced the bad impression he had of
+      the father, and he warmly advised Cayrol to break off all financial
+      connection with such a man. Cayrol, indeed, had now very little to do with
+      the European Credit. The office was still at his banking house, and the
+      payments for shares were still made into his bank, but as soon as the new
+      scheme which Herzog was preparing was launched, the financier intended
+      settling in splendid offices which were being rapidly completed in the
+      neighborhood of the Opera. Herzog might therefore commit all the follies
+      which entered his head. Cayrol would be out of it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes entered. At the first glance, the men noticed the
+      traces of the emotion she had just experienced. They rose and waited in
+      silence. When the mistress was in a bad humor everybody gave way to her.
+      It was the custom. She nodded to Cayrol, and walked up and down the
+      office, absorbed in her own thoughts. Suddenly stopping, she said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Marechal, prepare Prince Panine&rsquo;s account.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The secretary looked up amazed, and did not seem to understand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well! The Prince has had an overdraft; you will give me a statement;
+      that&rsquo;s all! I wish to see how we two stand.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The two men, astonished to hear Madame Desvarennes speak of her son-in-law
+      as she would of a customer, exchanged looks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have lent my son-in-law money, Cayrol?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And as the banker remained silent, still looking at the secretary, Madame
+      added:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Does the presence of Marechal make you hesitate in answering me? Speak
+      before him; I have told you more than a hundred times that he knows my
+      business as well as I do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have, indeed, advanced some money to the Prince,&rdquo; replied Cayrol.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How much?&rdquo; inquired Madame Desvarennes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t remember the exact amount. I was happy to oblige your
+      son-in-law.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You were wrong, and have acted unwisely in not acquainting me of the
+      fact. It is thus that his follies have been encouraged by obliging
+      friends. At all events, I ask you now not to lend him any more.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cayrol seemed put out, and, with his hands in his pockets and his
+      shoulders up, replied:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is a delicate matter which you ask of me. You will cause a quarrel
+      between the Prince and myself&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you prefer quarreling with me?&rdquo; asked the mistress.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Zounds! No!&rdquo; replied the banker. &ldquo;But you place me in an embarrassing
+      position! I have just promised to lend Serge a considerable sum to-night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well! you will not give it to him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is an act which he will scarcely forgive,&rdquo; sighed Cayrol.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes placed her hand on the shoulder of the banker, and
+      looking seriously at him, said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You would not have forgiven me if I had allowed you to render him this
+      service.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A vague uneasiness filled Cayrol&rsquo;s heart, a shadow seemed to pass before
+      his eyes, and in a troubled voice he said to the mistress:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why so?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because he would have repaid you badly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cayrol thought the mistress was alluding to the money he had already lent,
+      and his fears vanished. Madame Desvarennes would surely repay it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So you are cutting off his resources?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Completely,&rdquo; answered the mistress. &ldquo;He takes too much liberty, that
+      young gentleman. He was wrong to forget that I hold the purse-strings. I
+      don&rsquo;t mind paying, but I want a little deference shown me for my money.
+      Good-by! Cayrol, remember my instructions.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And, shaking hands with the banker, Madame Desvarennes entered her own
+      office, leaving the two men together.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a moment&rsquo;s pause: Cayrol was the first to break the silence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you think of the Prince&rsquo;s position?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;His financial position?&rdquo; asked Marechal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, no! I know all about that! I mean his relation to Madame
+      Desvarennes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Zounds! If we were in Venice in the days of the Aqua-Toffana, the sbirri
+      and the bravi&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What rubbish!&rdquo; interrupted Cayrol, shrugging his shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let me continue,&rdquo; said the secretary, &ldquo;and you can shrug your shoulders
+      afterward if you like. If we had been in Venice, knowing Madame
+      Desvarennes as I do, it would not have been surprising to me to have had
+      Master Serge found at the bottom of the canal some fine morning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are not in earnest,&rdquo; muttered the banker.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Much more so than you think. Only you know we live in the nineteenth
+      century, and we cannot make Providence interpose in the form of a dagger
+      or poison so easily as in former days. Arsenic and verdigris are sometimes
+      used, but it does not answer. Scientific people have had the meanness to
+      invent tests by which poison can be detected even when there is none.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are making fun of me,&rdquo; said Cayrol, laughing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I! No. Come, do you wish to do a good stroke of business? Find a man who
+      will consent to rid Madame Desvarennes of her son-in-law. If he succeed,
+      ask Madame Desvarennes for a million francs. I will pay it at only
+      twenty-five francs&rsquo; discount, if you like!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cayrol was thoughtful. Marechal continued:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have known the house a long time, how is it you don&rsquo;t understand the
+      mistress better? I tell you, and remember this: between Madame Desvarennes
+      and the Prince there is a mortal hatred. One of the two will destroy the
+      other. Which? Betting is open.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But what must I do? The Prince relies on me&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go and tell him not to do so any longer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Faith, no! I would rather he came to my office. I should be more at ease.
+      Adieu, Marechal.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Adieu, Monsieur Cayrol. But on whom will you bet?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Before I venture I should like to know on whose side the Princess is.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, dangler! You think too much of the women! Some day you will be let in
+      through that failing of yours!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cayrol smiled conceitedly, and went away. Marechal sat down at his desk,
+      and took out a sheet of paper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I must tell Pierre that everything is going on well here,&rdquo; he murmured.
+      &ldquo;If he knew what was taking place he would soon be back, and might be
+      guilty of some foolery or other.&rdquo; So he commenced writing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0024" id="link2H_4_0024">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      BOOK 4.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XVIII. THE UNIVERSAL CREDIT COMPANY
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The banking-house of Cayrol had not a very imposing appearance. It was a
+      narrow two-storied building, the front blackened by time. There was a
+      carriage gateway, on the right-hand side of which was the entrance to the
+      offices. The stairs leading to the first floor were covered by a well-worn
+      carpet. Here was a long corridor into which the different offices opened.
+      On their glass doors might be read: &ldquo;Payments of dividends.&rdquo; &ldquo;Accounts.&rdquo;
+       &ldquo;Foreign correspondence.&rdquo; &ldquo;General office.&rdquo; Cayrol&rsquo;s own room was quite at
+      the end, and communicated with his private apartments. Everything breathed
+      of simplicity and honesty. Cayrol had never tried to throw dust into
+      people&rsquo;s eyes. He had started modestly when opening the bank; his business
+      had increased, but his habits had remained the same. It was not a
+      difficult matter to obtain an interview, even by people not known to him.
+      They sent in their cards, and were admitted to his sanctum.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was amid the coming and going of customers and clerks that Prince
+      Panine came the following day to find Cayrol. For the first time Serge had
+      put himself out for the banker. He was introduced with marks of the most
+      profound respect. The great name of Desvarennes seemed to cast a kind of
+      halo round his head in the eyes of the clerks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cayrol, a little embarrassed, but still resolute, went toward him. Serge
+      seemed nervous and somewhat abrupt in manner. He foresaw some difficulty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well! my dear fellow,&rdquo; he said, without sitting down. &ldquo;What are you up
+      to? I have waited since yesterday for the money you promised me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cayrol scratched his ear, and felt taken aback by this plain speaking.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The fact is&mdash;&rdquo; stammered he.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you forgotten your engagement?&rdquo; asked Serge, frowning.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; replied Cayrol, speaking slowly, &ldquo;but I met Madame Desvarennes
+      yesterday.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what had that to do with your intentions?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Zounds! It had everything to do with them. Your mother-in-law made a
+      scene, and forbade my lending you any money. You must understand, my dear
+      Prince, that my relations with Madame Desvarennes are important. I hold a
+      great deal of money of hers in my bank. She first gave me a start. I
+      cannot, without appearing ungrateful, act contrary to her will. Place
+      yourself in my position, and judge impartially of the terrible alternative
+      between obliging you and displeasing my benefactress.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t cry; it is useless,&rdquo; said Serge, with a scornful laugh. &ldquo;I
+      sympathize with your troubles. You side with the money-bags. It remains to
+      be seen whether you will gain by it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear Prince, I swear to you that I am in despair,&rdquo; cried Cayrol,
+      annoyed at the turn the interview was taking. &ldquo;Listen; be reasonable! I
+      don&rsquo;t know what you have done to your mother-in-law, but she seems much
+      vexed with you. In your place I would rather make a few advances than
+      remain hostile toward Madame Desvarennes. That would mend matters, you
+      see. Flies are not to be caught with vinegar.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge looked contemptuously at Cayrol, and put on his hat with supreme
+      insolence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pardon me, my dear fellow; as a banker you are excellent when you have
+      any money to spare, but as a moralist you are highly ridiculous.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And, turning on his heel, he quitted the office, leaving Cayrol quite
+      abashed. He passed along the corridor switching his cane with suppressed
+      rage. Madame Desvarennes had, with one word, dried up the source from
+      which he had been drawing most of the money which he had spent during the
+      last three months. He had to pay a large sum that evening at the club, and
+      he did not care to apply to the money-lenders of Paris.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He went down the stairs wondering how he would get out of this scrape! Go
+      to Madame Desvarennes and humble himself as Cayrol advised? Never! He
+      regretted, for a moment, the follies which had led him into this
+      difficulty. He ought to have been able to live on two hundred thousand
+      francs a year! He had squandered money foolishly, and now the
+      inexhaustible well from which he had drawn his treasure was closed by an
+      invincible will.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was crossing the gateway, when a well-known voice struck his ear, and
+      he turned round. Herzog, smiling in his enigmatical manner, was before
+      him. Serge bowed, and wanted to pass on, but the financier put his hand on
+      his arm, saying:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What a hurry you are in, Prince. I suppose your pocketbook is full of
+      notes, and you are afraid of being plundered.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And with his finger, Herzog touched the silver mounted pocketbook, the
+      corner of which was peeping out of the Prince&rsquo;s pocket. Panine could not
+      control a gesture of vexation, which made the financier smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Am I wrong?&rdquo; asked Herzog. &ldquo;Can our friend Cayrol have refused your
+      request? By-the-bye, did you not quarrel with Madame Desvarennes
+      yesterday? Whoever was it told me that? Your mother-in-law spoke of
+      cutting off all your credit, and from your downcast look I guess that fool
+      Cayrol has obeyed the orders he has received.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge, exasperated and stamping with rage, wanted to speak, but it was no
+      easy matter interrupting Herzog. Besides, there was something in the
+      latter&rsquo;s look which annoyed Serge. His glance seemed to be fathoming the
+      depths of Panine&rsquo;s pockets, and the latter instinctively tightened his
+      arms across his chest, so that Herzog might not see that his pocketbook
+      was empty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What are you talking about?&rdquo; asked Serge, at last, with a constrained
+      smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;About things which must greatly interest you,&rdquo; said Herzog, familiarly.
+      &ldquo;Come, be sincere. Cayrol has just refused you a sum of money. He&rsquo;s a
+      simpleton! How much do you want? Will a hundred thousand francs do just
+      now?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And writing a few words on a check, the financier handed it to Serge,
+      adding:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A man of your position should not be in any difficulty for such a paltry
+      sum!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, sir,&rdquo; said Serge, astonished, and pushing away Herzog&rsquo;s hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Accept it, and don&rsquo;t feel indebted to me. It is hardly worth while
+      between you and me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And taking Panine&rsquo;s arm Herzog walked on with him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your carriage is there? all right, mine will follow. I want to talk to
+      you. Your troubles cannot last. I will show you the means of extricating
+      yourself and that without delay, my dear sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And without consulting Panine he seated himself beside him in the
+      carriage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I told you once, if you remember,&rdquo; continued the financier, &ldquo;that I might
+      prove useful to you. You were haughty, and I did not insist; yet you see
+      the day has come. Let me speak frankly with you. It is my usual manner,
+      and there is some good in it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Speak,&rdquo; answered Serge, rather puzzled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You find yourself at this moment, vulgarly speaking, left in the lurch.
+      Your wants are many and your resources few.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At least&mdash;&rdquo; protested Serge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good! There you are refractory,&rdquo; said the financier, laughingly, &ldquo;and I
+      have not finished. The day after your marriage you formed your household
+      on a lavish footing; you gave splendid receptions; you bought race-horses;
+      in short, you went the pace like a great lord. Undoubtedly it costs a lot
+      of money to keep up such an establishment. As you spent without counting
+      the cost, you confounded the capital with the interest, so that at this
+      moment you are three parts ruined. I don&rsquo;t think you would care to change
+      your mode of living, and it is too late in the day to cut down expenses
+      and exist on what remains? No. Well, to keep up your present style you
+      need at least a million francs every year.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You calculate like Cocker,&rdquo; remarked Serge, smiling with some constraint.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is my business,&rdquo; answered Herzog. &ldquo;There are two ways by which you
+      can obtain that million. The first is by making it up with your
+      mother-in-law, and consenting, for money, to live under her dominion. I
+      know her, she will agree to this.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But,&rdquo; said Serge, &ldquo;I refuse to submit.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In that case you must get out of your difficulties alone.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And how?&rdquo; inquired the Prince, with astonishment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Herzog looked at him seriously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By entering on the path which I am ready to open up to you,&rdquo; replied
+      Herzog, &ldquo;and in which I will guide you. By going in for business.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge returned Herzog&rsquo;s glance and tried to read his face, but found him
+      impenetrable.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To go into business one needs experience, and I have none.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mine will suffice,&rdquo; retorted the financier.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Or money,&rdquo; continued the Prince, &ldquo;and I have none, either.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t ask money from you. I offer you some.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What, then, do I bring into the concern?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The prestige of your name, and your relations with Madame Desvarennes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince answered, haughtily:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My relations are personal, and I doubt whether they will serve you. My
+      mother-in-law is hostile, and will do nothing for me. As to my name, it
+      does not belong to me, it belongs to those who bore it nobly before me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your relations will serve me,&rdquo; said Herzog. &ldquo;I am satisfied. Your
+      mother-in-law cannot get out of your being her daughter&rsquo;s husband, and for
+      that you are worth your weight in gold. As to your name, it is just
+      because it has been nobly borne that it is valuable. Thank your ancestors,
+      therefore, and make the best of the only heritage they left you. Besides,
+      if you care to examine things closely, your ancestors will not have reason
+      to tremble in their graves. What did they do formerly? They imposed taxes
+      on their vassals and extorted money from the vanquished. We financiers do
+      the same. Our vanquished are the speculators; our vassals the
+      shareholders. And what a superiority there is about our proceedings! There
+      is no violence. We persuade; we fascinate; and the money flows into our
+      coffers. What do I say? They beseech us to take it. We reign without
+      contest. We are princes, too princes of finance. We have founded an
+      aristocracy as proud and as powerful as the old one. Feudality of nobility
+      no longer exists; it has given way to that of money.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge laughed. He saw what Herzog was driving at.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your great barons of finance are sometimes subject to executions,&rdquo; said
+      he.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Were not Chalais, Cinq-Mars, Biron, and Montmorency executed?&rdquo; asked
+      Herzog, with irony.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That was on a scaffold,&rdquo; replied Panine.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well! the speculator&rsquo;s scaffold is the Bourse! But only small dabblers in
+      money succumb; the great ones are safe from danger. They are supported in
+      their undertakings by such powerful and numerous interests that they
+      cannot fail without involving public credit; even governments are forced
+      to come to their aid. One of these powerful and indestructible enterprises
+      I have dreamed of grafting on to the European Credit Company, the
+      Universal Credit Company. Its very name is a programme in itself. To
+      stretch over the four quarters of the globe like an immense net, and draw
+      into its meshes all financial speculators: such is its aim. Nobody will be
+      able to withstand us. I am offering you great things, but I dream of still
+      greater. I have ideas. You will see them developed, and will profit by
+      them, if you join my fortunes. You are ambitious, Prince. I guessed it;
+      but your ambition hitherto has been satisfied with small things&mdash;luxurious
+      indulgences and triumphs of elegance! What are these worth to what I can
+      give you? The sphere in which you move is narrow. I will make it immense.
+      You will no longer reign over a small social circle, you will rule a
+      world.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge, more affected than he cared to show, tried to banter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you repeating the prologue to Faust?&rdquo; asked he. &ldquo;Where is your
+      magical compact? Must I sign it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not at all. Your consent is sufficient. Look into the business, study it
+      at your leisure, and measure the results; and then if it suit you, you can
+      sign a deed of partnership. Then in a few years you may possess a fortune
+      surpassing all that you have dreamed of.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The financier remained silent. Serge was weighing the question. Herzog was
+      happy; he had shown himself to all Paris in company with Madame
+      Desvarennes&rsquo;s son-in-law. He had already realized one of his projects. The
+      carriage was just passing down the Champs Elysees. The weather was lovely,
+      and in the distance could be seen the trees of the Tuileries and the
+      different monuments of the Place de la Concorde bathed in blue mist.
+      Groups of horsemen were cantering along the side avenues. Long files of
+      carriages were rolling rapidly by with well-dressed ladies. The capital
+      displayed at that hour all the splendor of its luxury. It was Paris in all
+      its strength and gayety.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Herzog stretched out his hand, and calling the Prince&rsquo;s attention to the
+      sight, said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There&rsquo;s your empire!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Then, looking at him earnestly, he asked:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it agreed?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge hesitated for a moment, and then bowed his head, saying:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is agreed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Herzog pulled the check-string communicating with the coachman and
+      alighted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good-by,&rdquo; said he to Panine.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He slipped into his own carriage, which had followed closely behind, and
+      drove off.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      From that day, even Jeanne had a rival. The fever of speculation had
+      seized on Serge; he had placed his little finger within the wheels and he
+      must follow&mdash;body, name, and soul. The power which this new game
+      exercised over him was incredible. It was quite different to the stupid
+      games at the club, always the same. On the Bourse, everything was new,
+      unexpected, sudden, and formidable. The intensity of the feelings were
+      increased a hundredfold, owing to the importance of the sums risked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was really a splendid sight to see Herzog manipulating matters,
+      maneuvering with a miraculous dexterity millions of francs. And then the
+      field for operations was large. Politics, the interests of nations, were
+      the mainsprings which impelled the play, and the game assumed diplomatic
+      vastness and financial grandeur.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      From his private office Herzog issued orders, and whether his ability was
+      really extraordinary, or whether fortune exceptionally favored him,
+      success was certain. Serge, from the first week, realized considerable
+      sums. This brilliant success threw him in a state of great excitement. He
+      believed everything that Herzog said to him as if it were gospel. He saw
+      the world bending under the yoke which he was about to impose upon it.
+      People working and toiling every day were doing so for him alone, and like
+      one of those kings who had conquered the world, he pictured all the
+      treasures of the earth laid at his feet. From that time he lost the sense
+      of right and wrong. He admitted the unlikely, and found the impossible
+      quite natural. He was a docile tool in the hands of Herzog.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The rumor of this unforeseen change in Panine&rsquo;s circumstances soon reached
+      Madame Desvarennes&rsquo;s ears. The mistress was frightened, and sent for
+      Cayrol, begging him to remain a director of the European Credit, in order
+      to watch the progress of the new affair. With her practical common sense,
+      she foresaw disasters, and even regretted that Serge had not confined
+      himself to cards and reckless living.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cayrol was most uneasy, and made a confidant of his wife, who, deeply
+      troubled, told Panine the fears his friends entertained on his account.
+      The Prince smiled disdainfully, saying these fears were the effect of
+      plebeian timidity. The mistress understood nothing of great speculations,
+      and Cayrol was a narrow-minded banker! He knew what he was doing. The
+      results of his speculations were mathematical. So far they had not
+      disappointed his hopes. The great Universal Credit Company, of which he
+      was going to be a director, would bring him in such an immense fortune
+      that he would be independent of Madame Desvarennes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne, terrified at this blind confidence, tried to persuade him. Serge
+      took her in his arms, kissed her, and banished her fears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes had forbidden her people to tell Micheline anything of
+      what was going on, as she wished her to remain in perfect ignorance. By a
+      word, the mistress, if she could not have prevented the follies of which
+      Serge was guilty, could, at least, have spared herself and her daughter.
+      It would have only been necessary to reveal his behavior and betrayal to
+      Micheline, and to provoke a separation. If the house of Desvarennes were
+      no longer security for Panine, his credit would fall. Disowned by his
+      mother-in-law, and publicly given up by her, he would be of no use to
+      Herzog, and would be promptly thrown over by him. The mistress did not
+      wish her daughter to know the heartrending truth. She would not willingly
+      cause her to shed tears, and therefore preferred risking ruin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Micheline, too, tried to hide her troubles from her mother. She knew too
+      well that Serge would have the worst of it if he got into her black books.
+      With the incredible persistence of a loving heart, she hoped to win back
+      Serge. Thus a terrible misunderstanding caused these two women to remain
+      inactive and silent, when, by united efforts, they might, perhaps, have
+      prevented dangers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The great speculation was already being talked about. Herzog was boldly
+      placing his foot on the summit whereon the five or six demigods, who ruled
+      the stock market, were firmly placed. The audacious encroachments of this
+      newcomer had vexed these formidable potentates, and already they had
+      decided secretly his downfall because he would not let them share in his
+      profits.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One morning, the Parisians, on awakening, found the walls placarded with
+      notices advertising the issue of shares in the Universal Credit Company,
+      and announcing the names of the directors, among which appeared that of
+      the Prince. Some were members of the Legion d&rsquo;Honneur; others recent
+      members of the Cabinet Council, and Prefets retired into private life. A
+      list of names to dazzle the public, but all having a weak point.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This created a great sensation in the business world. Madame Desvarennes&rsquo;s
+      son-in-law was on the board. It was a good speculation, then? People
+      consulted the mistress, who found herself somewhat in a dilemma; either
+      she must disown her son-in-law, or speak well of the affair. Still she did
+      not hesitate, for she was loyal and honest above all things. She declared
+      the speculation was a poor one, and did all she could to prevent any of
+      her friends becoming shareholders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The issue of shares was disastrous. The great banks remained hostile, and
+      capitalists were mistrustful. Herzog landed a few million francs.
+      Doorkeepers and cooks brought him their savings. He covered expenses. But
+      it was no use advertising and puffing in the newspapers, as a word had
+      gone forth which paralyzed the speculation. Ugly rumors were afloat.
+      Herzog&rsquo;s German origin was made use of by the bankers, who whispered that
+      the aim of the Universal Credit Company was exclusively political. It was
+      to establish branch banks in every part of the world to further the
+      interests of German industry. Further, at a given moment, Germany might
+      have need of a loan in case of war, and the Universal Credit Company would
+      be there to supply the necessary aid to the great military nation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Herzog was not a man to be put down without resisting, and he made supreme
+      efforts to float his undertaking. He caused a number of unissued shares to
+      be sold on &lsquo;Change, and had them bought up by his own men, thus creating a
+      fictitious interest in the company. In a few days the shares rose and were
+      at a premium, simply through the jobbery to which Herzog lent himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Panine was little disposed to seek for explanations, and, besides, had
+      such unbounded faith in his partner that he suspected nothing. He remained
+      in perfect tranquillity. He had increased his expenditure, and his
+      household was on a royal footing. Micheline&rsquo;s sweetness emboldened him; he
+      no longer took the trouble of dissimulating, and treated his young wife
+      with perfect indifference.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne and Serge met every day at the little house in the Avenue Maillot.
+      Cayrol was too much engaged with the new anxieties which Herzog caused
+      him, to look after his wife, and left her quite free to amuse herself.
+      Besides, he had not the least suspicion. Jeanne, like all guilty women,
+      overwhelmed him with kind attentions, which the good man mistook for
+      proofs of love. The fatal passion was growing daily stronger in the young
+      woman&rsquo;s heart, and she would have found it impossible to have given up her
+      dishonorable happiness with Panine. She felt herself capable of doing
+      anything to preserve her lover.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne had already said, &ldquo;Oh! if we were but free!&rdquo; And they formed
+      projects. They would go away to Lake Lugano, and, in a villa hidden by
+      trees and shrubs, would enjoy the pleasures of being indissolubly united.
+      The woman was more eager than the man in giving way to these visions of
+      happiness. She sometimes said, &ldquo;What hinders us now? Let us go.&rdquo; But
+      Serge, prudent and discreet, even in the most affectionate moments, led
+      Jeanne to take a more sensible view. What was the use of a scandal? Did
+      they not belong to each other?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then the young woman reproached him for not loving her as much as she
+      loved him. She was tired of dissimulating; her husband was an object of
+      horror to her, and she had to tell him untruths and submit to his caresses
+      which were revolting to her. Serge calmed her with a kiss, and bade her
+      wait awhile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pierre, rendered anxious on hearing that Serge had joined Herzog in his
+      dangerous financial speculations, had left his mines and had just arrived.
+      The letters which Micheline addressed to the friend of her youth, her
+      enforced confidant in trouble, were calm and resigned. Full of pride, she
+      had carefully hidden from Pierre the cause of her troubles. He was the
+      last person by whom she would like to be pitied, and her letters had
+      represented Serge as repentant and full of good feeling. Marechal, for
+      similar reasons, had kept his friend in the dark. He feared Pierre&rsquo;s
+      interference, and he wished to spare Madame Desvarennes the grief of
+      seeing her adopted son quarreling with her son-in-law.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But the placards announcing the establishment of the Universal Credit
+      Company made their way into the provinces, and one morning Pierre found
+      some stuck on the walls of his establishment. Seeing the name of Panine,
+      and not that of Cayrol, Pierre shuddered. The unpleasant ideas which he
+      experienced formerly when Herzog was introduced to the Desvarennes
+      recurred to his mind. He wrote to the mistress to ask what was going on,
+      and not receiving an answer, he started off without hesitation for Paris.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He found Madame Desvarennes in a terrible state of excitement. The shares
+      had just fallen a hundred and twenty francs. A panic had ensued. The
+      affair was considered as absolutely lost, and the shareholders were
+      aggravating matters by wanting to sell out at once.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Savinien was just coming away from the mistress&rsquo;s room. He wanted to see
+      the downfall of the Prince, whom he had always hated, looking upon him as
+      a usurper of his own rights upon the fortune of the Desvarennes. He began
+      lamenting to his aunt, when she turned upon him with unusual harshness,
+      and he felt bound as he said, laughing, to leave the &ldquo;funereal mansion.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cayrol, as much interested in the affairs of the Prince as if they were
+      his own, went backward and forward between the Rue Saint-Dominique and the
+      Rue Taitbout, pale and troubled, but without losing his head. He had
+      already saved the European Credit Company by separating it six weeks
+      before from the Universal Credit Company, notwithstanding Madame
+      Desvarennes&rsquo;s supplications to keep them together, in the hope that the
+      one would save the other. But Cayrol, practical, clear, and implacable,
+      had refused, for the first time, to obey Madame Desvarennes. He acted with
+      the resolution of a captain of a vessel, who throws overboard a portion of
+      the cargo to save the ship, the crew, and the rest of the merchandise. He
+      did well, and the European Credit was safe. The shares had fallen a
+      little, but a favorable reaction was already showing itself. The name of
+      Cayrol, and his presence at the head of affairs, had reassured the public,
+      and the shareholders gathered round him, passing a vote of confidence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The banker, devoted to his task, next sought to save Panine, who was at
+      that very moment robbing him of his honor and happiness in the house of
+      the Avenue Maillot.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pierre, Cayrol, and Madame Desvarennes met in Marechal&rsquo;s private office.
+      Pierre declared that it was imperative to take strong measures and to
+      speak to the Prince. It was the duty of the mistress to enlighten Panine,
+      who was no doubt Herzog&rsquo;s dupe.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes shook her head sadly. She feared that Serge was not a
+      dupe but an accomplice. And what could she tell him? Let him ruin himself!
+      He would not believe her. She knew how he received her advice and bore her
+      remonstrances.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      An explanation between her and Serge was impossible, and her interference
+      would only hurry him into the abyss.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, then, I will speak to him,&rdquo; said Pierre, resolutely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; said Madame Desvarennes, &ldquo;not you! Only one here can tell him
+      efficaciously what he must hear, and that is Cayrol. Let us above all
+      things keep guard over our words and our behavior. On no account must
+      Micheline suspect anything.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thus, at the most solemn moments, when fortune and honor, perhaps, were
+      compromised, the mother thought of her daughter&rsquo;s welfare and happiness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cayrol went up to the Prince&rsquo;s rooms. He had just come in, and was opening
+      his letters, while having a cigarette in the smoking-room. A door, covered
+      by curtains, led to a back stair which opened into the courtyard. Cayrol
+      had gone up that way, feeling sure that by so doing he would not meet
+      Micheline.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On seeing Jeanne&rsquo;s husband, Serge rose quickly. He feared that Cayrol had
+      discovered everything, and instinctively stepped backward. The banker&rsquo;s
+      manner soon undeceived him. He was serious, but not in a rage. He had
+      evidently come on business.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, my dear Cayrol,&rdquo; said the Prince, gayly, &ldquo;what good fortune has
+      brought you here?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If it is fortune, it is certainly not good fortune,&rdquo; answered the banker,
+      gravely. &ldquo;I wish to have some talk with you, and I shall be grateful if
+      you will listen patiently.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh! oh!&rdquo; said Serge. &ldquo;How serious you are. You have some heavy payments
+      on hand, and want a little help, eh? I will speak to Herzog.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cayrol looked at the Prince in amazement. So he did not suspect anything?
+      Such carelessness and negligence frightened him. The banker resolved to
+      proceed clearly, and without beating about the bush; to do away with such
+      blind confidence a thunderbolt was necessary.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have not come about my business, but yours,&rdquo; returned Cayrol. &ldquo;The
+      Universal Credit Company is on the eve of disaster; there is still time
+      for you to withdraw safely and soundly from the sinking wreck. I bring you
+      the means.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you, Cayrol; you are very kind, my friend. I know your intentions
+      are good, but I don&rsquo;t believe a word you are saying. You have come from
+      Madame Desvarennes. You are both agreed that I shall give up the Universal
+      Credit, but I will not yield to any pressure. I know what I am doing. Be
+      easy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And quietly lighting another cigarette, he gracefully puffed the smoke
+      toward the ceiling. Cayrol did not trouble to argue, but took a newspaper
+      from his pocket and handed it to Panine, simply saying, &ldquo;Read!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was an article in a reliable financial paper prophesying the failure of
+      the Universal Credit Company, and basing its statements on irrefutable
+      calculations. Serge took the paper and looked over it. He turned pale and
+      crushed it in his hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What infamy!&rdquo; cried he. &ldquo;I know our adversaries are enraged. Yes, they
+      know that our new company is destined to crush them in the future, and
+      they are doing all they can to run us aground. Jealousy! Envy! There is no
+      other foundation for these rumors, and they are unworthy a serious man&rsquo;s
+      attention.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is neither envy nor jealousy. All is true,&rdquo; said Cayrol. &ldquo;You will
+      admit that I am your sincere friend? Well, I swear to you that the
+      situation is terrible, and you must resign your directorship of the
+      Universal Credit without loss of time. There&rsquo;s not a moment to lose. Sit
+      down and write your resignation.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you think I am a child to be led by the nose like that?&rdquo; asked the
+      Prince, in a passion. &ldquo;If you are sincere, Cayrol, as I wish to believe, I
+      also think you are a fool. You don&rsquo;t understand! As to drawing out of the
+      company, never! I have a lot of money invested in it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, lose your money, Madame Desvarennes will pay you back. At least you
+      can save your name.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, I see you are conniving with her!&rdquo; exclaimed the Prince, loudly.
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t tell me another word, I don&rsquo;t believe you. I shall go straight to
+      the office, and I will speak to Herzog. We will take measures to prosecute
+      the papers for libel if they dare to publish these untruths.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cayrol saw that nothing would convince Panine. He hoped that an interview
+      with Herzog would enlighten him. He left the matter to chance, as
+      reasoning was of no avail, and went down to the mistress.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge drove to the Universal Credit Company. It was the first day in the
+      new offices. Herzog had furnished them splendidly, thinking that this
+      would give the shareholders a high opinion of the undertaking. How could
+      they have any doubts when they saw such splendid furniture and large
+      offices? How could they refuse to place their money in the hands of
+      speculators that could cover their floors with such soft carpets? The
+      porters, with their dark blue and red cloth liveries, and buttons with the
+      company&rsquo;s monogram on them, answered inquiries with haughty condescension.
+      Everything foretold success. It was in the air. You could hear the cashier
+      shovelling heaps of gold. The people who had placed the Universal Credit
+      Company on such a footing were either very powerful or very impudent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge walked in, as he would have done at home, with his hat on, amid a
+      number of small shareholders, who had come full of anxiety after reading
+      the accounts in the newspapers, and who felt full of confidence after
+      seeing the splendor of the place. Panine reached Herzog&rsquo;s office, but when
+      about to open the door, loud voices struck his ear. The financier was
+      arguing with a director, and Panine listened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The speculation is safe and sure,&rdquo; Herzog was saying. &ldquo;The shares are
+      low, I know, because I have ceased to keep them up. I have given orders in
+      London, Vienna, and Berlin, and we are buying up all shares that are
+      offered in the market. I shall then run the shares up again, and we shall
+      realize an enormous sum. It is most simple.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But it is shady,&rdquo; said the other voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why? I defend myself as I am attacked. The great banks seek to
+      deteriorate my stock. I buy in, and take it out of my adversaries. Is it
+      not just and lawful?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Panine breathed freely and felt reassured. The depreciation was caused by
+      Herzog; he had just said so. There was nothing to fear then. It was just a
+      trick of Herzog&rsquo;s, and the company would come out brighter than ever.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge went in.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh! here&rsquo;s Prince Panine,&rdquo; said Herzog. &ldquo;Ask him what he thinks of the
+      matter. I defer to his judgment.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t want to know anything,&rdquo; said Serge. &ldquo;I have full confidence in
+      you, my dear manager, and our business will prosper in your hands, I am
+      sure. Besides, I know the manoeuvres of our opponents, and I think every
+      financial means justifiable to answer them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! What did I say to you a few minutes ago?&rdquo; cried Herzog, addressing
+      his questioner in a tone of triumph. &ldquo;Let me act and you will see.
+      Besides, I don&rsquo;t want to keep you against your will,&rdquo; he added, harshly.
+      &ldquo;You are at liberty to withdraw from us if you like.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The other protested that what he had said was for the best interests of
+      all concerned. He did not dream of leaving the company; on the contrary,
+      they might rely on him. He appreciated the experience and ability of
+      Herzog too well to separate his fortune from his friend&rsquo;s. And, shaking
+      hands with the financier, he took his leave.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come! What is all this clamor in the newspapers?&rdquo; asked Serge, when he
+      found himself alone with Herzog. &ldquo;Do you know that the articles published
+      are very perfidious?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All the more perfidious because they are founded on truth,&rdquo; said the
+      financier, coldly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you mean?&rdquo; cried Serge, in alarm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The truth. Do you think I am to tell you lies as I did to that idiot who
+      has just gone out? The Universal Credit has at this moment a screw loose.
+      But patience! I have an idea, and in a fortnight the shares will have
+      doubled in value. I have a splendid scheme in hand which will kill the gas
+      companies. It is a plan for lighting by magnesium. Its effect will be
+      startling. I shall publish sensational articles describing the invention
+      in the London and Brussels papers. Gas shares will fall very low. I shall
+      buy up all I can, and when I am master of the situation, I shall announce
+      that the threatened gas companies are buying up the invention. Shares will
+      rise again, and I shall realize a goodly sum, which will be for the
+      benefit of the Universal Credit.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But for such a formidable speculation foreign agents will require
+      security?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will offer it to them. I have here ten million francs&rsquo; worth of shares
+      in the European Credit belonging to Cayrol. We will give the cashier a
+      joint receipt for them. The speculation will last three days. It is safe,
+      and when the result is achieved we will replace the shares, and take back
+      the receipt.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But,&rdquo; asked Serge, &ldquo;is this plan of taking the shares which don&rsquo;t belong
+      to us legal?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is a transfer,&rdquo; said Herzog, with simplicity. &ldquo;Besides, don&rsquo;t forget
+      that we have to do with Cayrol, that is to say with a partner.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Suppose we tell him of it,&rdquo; insisted the Prince.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No! The deuce! We should have to explain everything to him. He knows
+      what&rsquo;s what, and would find the idea too good, and want a share of the
+      spoil. No! Sign that, and don&rsquo;t be alarmed. The sheep will be back in the
+      fold before the shepherd comes to count them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A dark presentiment crossed Serge&rsquo;s mind, and he was afraid. At that
+      moment, when his fate was being decided, he hesitated to go deeper into
+      the rut where he had already been walking too long. He stood silent and
+      undecided. Confused thoughts crowded his brain; his temples throbbed, and
+      a buzzing noise sounded in his ears. But the thought of giving up his
+      liberty, and again subjecting himself to Madame Desvarennes&rsquo;s protection
+      was like the lash of a whip, and he blushed for having hesitated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Herzog looked at him, and, smiling in a constrained way, said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You, too, may give up the affair if you like. If I share it with you it
+      is because you are so closely allied to me. I don&rsquo;t so very much care to
+      cut the pear in two. Don&rsquo;t think that I am begging of you to be my
+      partner! Do as you like.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge caught hold of the paper and, having signed it, handed it to the
+      financier.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right,&rdquo; said Herzog. &ldquo;I shall leave to-night and be absent three
+      days. Watch the money market. You will see the results of my
+      calculations.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And shaking hands with the Prince, Herzog went to the cashier to get the
+      scrip and deposit the receipt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XIX. SIN GROWS BOLDER
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      There was a party at Cayrol&rsquo;s. In the drawing-rooms of the mansion in the
+      Rue Taitbout everything was resplendent with lights, and there was quite a
+      profusion of flowers. Cayrol had thought of postponing the party, but was
+      afraid of rousing anxieties, and like an actor who, though he has just
+      lost his father, must play the following day, so Cayrol gave his party and
+      showed a smiling face, so as to prevent harm to his business.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Matters had taken a turn for the worse during the last three days. The
+      bold stroke, to carry out which Herzog had gone to London so as to be more
+      secret, had been got wind of. The fall of the shares had not taken place.
+      Working with considerable sums of money, the loss on the difference was as
+      great as the gains would have been. The shares belonging to the European
+      Credit Company had defrayed the cost of the game. It was a disaster.
+      Cayrol, in his anxiety, had applied for the scrip and had only found the
+      receipt given to the cashier. Although the transaction was most irregular,
+      Cayrol had not said anything; but, utterly cast down, had gone to Madame
+      Desvarennes to tell her of the fact.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince was in bed, pretending to be ill. His wife, happily ignorant of
+      all that was going on, rejoiced secretly at his indisposition because she
+      was allowed to nurse him and have him all to herself. Panine, alarmed at
+      the check they had experienced, was expecting Herzog with feverish
+      impatience, and to keep out of sight had chosen the privacy of his own
+      room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Still, Cayrol had been allowed to see him, and with great circumspection
+      told him that his non-appearance at the same time that Herzog was absent
+      was most fatal for the Universal Credit Company. It was absolutely
+      necessary that he should be seen in public. He must come to his party, and
+      appear with a calm face. Serge promised to come, and had imposed on
+      Micheline the heavy task of accompanying him to Jeanne&rsquo;s. It was the first
+      time since her return from Nice that she had entered the house of her
+      husband&rsquo;s mistress.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The concert was over, and a crowd of guests were coming from the large
+      drawing-room to the boudoir and little drawing-room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The symphony is over. Ouf!&rdquo; said Savinien, yawning.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You don&rsquo;t like music?&rdquo; asked Marechal, with a laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, military music. But two hours of Schumann and Mendelssohn at high
+      pressure is too much for one man. But I say, Marechal, what do you think
+      of Mademoiselle Herzog&rsquo;s being at Cayrol&rsquo;s soiree. It is a little too
+      strong.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How so?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, the father has bolted, and the daughter is preparing a dance. Each
+      has a different way of using their feet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very pretty, Monsieur Desvarennes, but I advise you to keep your flashes
+      of wit to yourself,&rdquo; said Marechal, seriously. &ldquo;That may not suit
+      everybody.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Marechal, you, too, making a fuss!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And turning on his heel, he went to the refreshment table.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Prince and Princess Panine were just coming in. Micheline was smiling, and
+      Serge was pale, though calm. Cayrol and Jeanne came toward them. Everybody
+      turned to look at them. Jeanne, without embarrassment, shook hands with
+      her friend. Cayrol bowed respectfully to Micheline.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Princess,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;will you honor me by taking my arm? You are just in
+      time, they are going to begin dancing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not myself, though, thank you,&rdquo; replied Micheline, with a sad smile, &ldquo;I
+      am still very weak, but I will look on.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And on Cayrol&rsquo;s arm she entered the large drawing-room. Serge followed
+      with Jeanne.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The festivities were at their height. The orchestra was playing a waltz,
+      and in a whirl of silk and gauze the young people seemed to be thoroughly
+      enjoying themselves.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Suzanne Herzog was sitting alone near a window, in a simple white dress,
+      and without a single ornament. Marechal had just approached her, and she
+      had welcomed him with a smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you not dancing to-night, Mademoiselle?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am waiting to be invited,&rdquo; she answered, sadly, &ldquo;and, like sister Anne,
+      I see nobody coming. There are ugly reports abroad about my father&rsquo;s
+      fortune, and the Argonauts are drawing off.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you give me a dance?&rdquo; said Marechal. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t dance to perfection,
+      never having practised much, but with a good will.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you, Monsieur Marechal, I would rather talk. I am not very cheerful
+      to-night, and, believe me, I only came because Madame Desvarennes wished
+      it. I would rather have remained at home. Business has gone wrong with my
+      father by what I can hear, for I don&rsquo;t know what goes on at the office. I
+      feel more inclined to cry than to laugh. Not that I regret the loss of
+      money, you know; I don&rsquo;t care for it, but my father must be in despair.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Marechal listened silently to Suzanne, not daring to tell her what he
+      thought of Herzog, and respected the real ignorance or willing blindness
+      of the young girl who did not doubt her father&rsquo;s loyalty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Princess, leaning on Cayrol&rsquo;s arm, had just finished promenading round
+      the rooms, when she perceived Suzanne and, leaving the banker, came and
+      seated herself beside her. Many of the guests looked at each other and
+      whispered words which Micheline did not hear, and if she had heard would
+      not have understood. &ldquo;It is heroic!&rdquo; some said. Others answered, &ldquo;It is
+      the height of impudence.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Princess was talking with Suzanne and was looking at her husband who,
+      leaning against a door, was following Jeanne with his eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At a sign from Cayrol, Marechal left the room. The secretary joined Madame
+      Desvarennes, who had come with Pierre and had remained in Cayrol&rsquo;s private
+      office. During this party matters of moment were to be discussed, and a
+      consultation was about to take place between the interested parties. On
+      seeing Marechal enter, Madame only uttered one word:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Cayrol?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here he is,&rdquo; answered the secretary.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cayrol came in, hurriedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; he asked, with great anxiety, &ldquo;have you any news?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pierre has just come from London,&rdquo; answered the mistress. &ldquo;What we feared
+      is true. Herzog, conjointly with my son-in-law, has made use of the ten
+      millions belonging to the European Credit.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you think that Herzog has really bolted?&rdquo; inquired Marechal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No! he is too deep for that,&rdquo; replied Cayrol. &ldquo;He will return. He knows
+      that in compromising the Prince it is as if he had compromised the firm of
+      Desvarennes, therefore he is quite easy on the matter.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Can the one be saved without the other?&rdquo; asked the mistress.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is impossible. Herzog has so firmly bound up his interests with those
+      of the Prince that it will be necessary to extricate both or let both
+      perish together.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, we must save Herzog into the bargain, then!&rdquo; said Madame
+      Desvarennes, coldly. &ldquo;But by what means?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;These,&rdquo; answered Cayrol. &ldquo;The shares taken away by Herzog, under the
+      security of the Prince&rsquo;s signature, were deposited by the shareholders.
+      When the Universal Credit removed to its new offices, these shares were
+      taken away by mistake. It will suffice to replace the scrip. I will give
+      back the receipt to the Prince and all trace of this deplorable affair
+      will be wiped out.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But the numbers of the shares will not be the same,&rdquo; said Madame
+      Desvarennes, accustomed to minute regularity in all operations.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We can explain the change by feigning a sale when they were high, and
+      buying them up when low. We will show a profit, and the shareholders will
+      not quarrel. Besides, I reserve the right of divulging Herzog&rsquo;s fraud
+      without implicating Panine, if the shareholders insist. Trust me, I will
+      catch Herzog another time. It is my stupid confidence in that man which
+      has been partly the cause of this disaster. I will make your business mine
+      and force him to shell out. I shall leave for London to-night, by the 1.50
+      train. Promptness of action in such a case is the first step toward
+      success.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you, Cayrol,&rdquo; said the mistress. &ldquo;Have my daughter and the Prince
+      arrived?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Serge is calm; he has more power over himself than I could have
+      believed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What does it matter to him what is going on? Is it he who will feel the
+      blow? No. He knows that I shall go on working to keep him in idleness and
+      maintain him in luxury. I may think myself lucky if he is reclaimed by
+      this hard lesson, and does not again begin to rummage in other people&rsquo;s
+      safes, for then I should be unable to save him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The mistress rose and, with flashing eyes, walked up and down the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, the wretch!&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;If ever my daughter ceases to come between
+      him and me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A terrible gesture finished the sentence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cayrol, Marechal, and Pierre looked at each other. The same thought came
+      to their minds, dark and fearful. In a paroxysm of rage this fond mother,
+      this energetic and passionate woman, would be capable of killing any one.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You remember what I told you one day,&rdquo; murmured Marechal, approaching
+      Cayrol.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I would prefer the hatred of ten men to that of such a woman,&rdquo; answered
+      Cayrol.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Cayrol!&rdquo; continued Madame Desvarennes, after a few moments of meditation,
+      &ldquo;the conduct of the business of which you spoke to us a little while ago
+      depends solely on you, does it not?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;On me alone.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do it at once, then, cost me what it may. Has it been noised abroad?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No one has the slightest suspicion. I have not mentioned it to a living
+      soul,&rdquo; said the banker&mdash;&ldquo;except to my wife,&rdquo; added he with a
+      frankness which drew a smile from Pierre. &ldquo;But my wife and I are one.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What did she say?&rdquo; asked Madame Desvarenes, looking straight at Cayrol.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If I had been the person concerned,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;she could not possibly
+      have been more affected. She loves you so much, Madame, you and those
+      belonging to you. She besought me to do all in my power to get the Prince
+      out of this scrape. She had tears in her eyes: And, truly, if I did not
+      feel bound to serve you from gratitude I would do it for her sake and to
+      give her pleasure. I was touched, I can assure you. Really, she has a
+      heart!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Marechal exchanged a look with Madame Desvarennes, who advanced toward the
+      banker, and shook him by the hand, saying:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Cayrol, you are truly a good man!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know it,&rdquo; said Cayrol, smiling to hide his emotion, &ldquo;and you may rely
+      upon me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Micheline appeared on the threshold of the room. Through the half-open
+      door the dancers could be seen passing to and fro, and the sound of music
+      floated in the air.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What has become of you, mamma? I hear that you have been here for more
+      than an hour.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was talking on business matters with these gentlemen,&rdquo; answered Madame
+      Desvarennes, smoothing from her brow the traces of her cares by an effort
+      of will. &ldquo;But you, dear, how do you feel? Are you not tired?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not more so than usual,&rdquo; replied Micheline, looking round to follow the
+      movements of her husband, who was trying to reach Jeanne.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why did you come to this party? It was unwise.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Serge wished me to come, and I did not care to let him come without me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh! dear me!&rdquo; exclaimed Madame Desvarennes. &ldquo;Let him do what he likes.
+      Men are savages. When you are ill it won&rsquo;t hurt him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am not ill, and I won&rsquo;t be,&rdquo; resumed Micheline, warmly. &ldquo;We are going
+      away now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She motioned to Serge with her fan. Panine came to her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will take me home, won&rsquo;t you, Serge?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly, dear one,&rdquo; answered Serge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne, who was listening at a distance, raised her hand to her forehead
+      as a sign that she wanted him. A feeling of surprise came over the Prince,
+      and he did not understand what she meant. Micheline had seen the sign. A
+      deadly pallor spread over her features, and a cold perspiration broke out
+      on her forehead. She felt so ill that she could have cried out. It was the
+      first time she had seen Serge and Jeanne together since the dreadful
+      discovery at Nice. She had avoided witnessing their meeting, feeling
+      uncertain of herself, and fearing to lose her self-control. But seeing the
+      two lovers before her, devouring each other with their looks, and making
+      signs to each other, made her feel most terribly jealous and angry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge had decided to obey the imperious signs which Jeanne made to him,
+      and turning toward his wife, said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I remember now, my dear, that before going home I must call at the club.
+      I promised, and cannot put it off. Excuse my not going with you, and ask
+      your mother to accompany you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well,&rdquo; said Micheline, in a trembling voice. &ldquo;I will ask her. You
+      are not going just yet?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In a moment.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I, too, shall leave in a moment.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The young wife did not want to lose one detail of the horrible comedy
+      being played under her very eyes. She remained to learn, unawares, the
+      reason for which Jeanne kept her husband.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Not thinking that he was watched, Serge had gone across to Jeanne, and
+      affecting a smile, inquired:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is the matter?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Serious news.&rdquo; And she explained that she must speak to her lover that
+      evening.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where?&rdquo; Serge asked, with astonishment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here,&rdquo; answered Jeanne.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But your husband?&rdquo; the Prince said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is leaving in an hour. Our guests will not remain late. Go to the garden,
+      and wait in the pavilion. The door of the back stairs leading to my
+      dressing-room will be open. When everybody has gone, come up.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take care; we are observed,&rdquo; said Serge, uneasily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And they began to laugh with affectation and talked aloud about frivolous
+      things, as if nothing serious were occupying their thoughts. Cayrol had
+      come back again. He went up to Madame Desvarennes, who was talking with
+      her daughter, and, full of business, thoughtlessly said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will telegraph you as soon as I reach London.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you going away?&rdquo; inquired Micheline, a light dawning on her mind.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Cayrol; &ldquo;I have an important matter to settle.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And when do you start?&rdquo; continued Micheline, in such a changed voice that
+      her mother was frightened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In a moment,&rdquo; answered the banker. &ldquo;Allow me to leave you. I have several
+      orders to give.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And leaving the boudoir, he regained the little drawing-room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Micheline, with clinched hands and fixed gaze, was saying to herself:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She will be alone to-night, and has asked him to come to her. He told me
+      an untruth about his having to go to the club. He is going to see her!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And passing her hand across her brow, as if to drive away an unpleasant
+      thought, the young wife remained silent, dismayed and crushed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Micheline, what is the matter with you?&rdquo; asked Madame Desvarennes,
+      seizing her daughter&rsquo;s hand, which was icy cold.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing,&rdquo; stammered Micheline.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are ill, I see. Come, let us go home. Come and kiss Jeanne&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I!&rdquo; cried Micheline, with horror, instinctively recoiling as if dreading
+      some impure contact.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes became suddenly cold and calm. She foresaw a terrible
+      revelation, and observing her daughter narrowly, said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why do you cry out when I speak of your kissing Jeanne? Whatever is the
+      matter?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Micheline grasped her mother&rsquo;s arm, and pointed to Serge and Jeanne, who
+      were in the little drawing-room, laughing and talking, surrounded by a
+      group of people, yet alone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Look at them!&rdquo; she cried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you mean?&rdquo; exclaimed the mother in agony. She read the truth in
+      her daughter&rsquo;s eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You know&mdash;&rdquo; she began.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That he is her lover,&rdquo; cried Micheline, interrupting her. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you see
+      that I am dying through it?&rdquo; she added, sobbing bitterly and falling into
+      her mother&rsquo;s arms.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The mistress carried her as if she had been a child into Cayrol&rsquo;s private
+      office, and shut the door. Then, kneeling beside the couch on which
+      Micheline was stretched, she gave vent to her grief. She begged her
+      daughter to speak to her, and warmed her hands with kisses; then, seeing
+      her still cold and motionless, she was frightened, and wanted to call for
+      help.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; be quiet!&rdquo; murmured Micheline, recovering. &ldquo;Let no one know. I ought
+      to have held my peace; but I have suffered so much I could not help
+      myself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My life is blasted, you see. Take me away; save me from this infamy!
+      Jeanne, my sister, and Serge. Oh! make me forget it! For pity&rsquo;s sake,
+      mamma, you who are so strong, you who have always done what you wished,
+      take from my heart all the pain that is there!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes, overcome by such a load of grief, lost command of
+      herself, and, quite brokenhearted, began to cry and moan.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O God! Micheline, my poor child! you were suffering so and did not tell
+      me. Oh! I knew you no longer trusted your old mother. And I stupidly did
+      not guess it! I said to myself, at least she knows nothing about it, and
+      sacrificed everything to keep the knowledge of their wrong-doing from you.
+      Don&rsquo;t cry any more, darling, you will break my heart. I, who would have
+      given up everything in the world to see you happy! Oh, I have loved you
+      too much! How I am punished!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is I who am punished,&rdquo; said Micheline, sobbing, &ldquo;for not obeying you.
+      Ah! children ought always to heed their mother. She divines the danger. Is
+      it not too horrible, mamma? I, who have sacrificed everything for him, to
+      think that he does not love me, and never will love me! What will my life
+      be without confidence, hope, or affection? I am too unhappy. It would be
+      better to die!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Die! you!&rdquo; cried her mother, whose eyes, wet with tears, dried in a
+      moment, as if by an inward fire. &ldquo;Die! Come, don&rsquo;t talk such nonsense!
+      Because a man treats you with scorn and betrays you? Are men worth dying
+      for? No, you shall live, my darling, with your old mother. You shall have
+      a deed of separation from your husband.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And he will be free,&rdquo; exclaimed Micheline, angrily. &ldquo;He will go on loving
+      her! Oh! I cannot bear that thought. Do you know, what I am going to tell
+      you seems awful. I love him so much, that I would rather see him dead than
+      unfaithful.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes was struck, and remained silent. Serge dead! That idea
+      had already occurred to her as a dream of deliverance. It came upon her
+      peremptorily, violently, irresistibly. She repelled it with an effort.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can never think of him but as vile and odious,&rdquo; continued Micheline.
+      &ldquo;Every day his sin will seem more dastardly and his hypocrisy more base.
+      There, a little while ago, he was smiling; and do you know why? Because
+      Cayrol is going away, and during his absence Serge will return here
+      tonight.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who told you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I read it in his joyful looks. I love him. He cannot hide anything from
+      me. A traitor to me, and a traitor toward his friend, that is the man whom&mdash;I
+      am ashamed to own it&mdash;I love!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Compose yourself! Someone is coming,&rdquo; said Madame Desvarennes, and at the
+      same time the door opened and Jeanne appeared, followed by Marechal, who
+      was anxious at their disappearance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is Micheline ill?&rdquo; inquired Madame Cayrol, coming forward.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; it is nothing. Just a little fatigue,&rdquo; said Madame Desvarennes.
+      &ldquo;Marechal, give my daughter your arm, and take her to her carriage. I
+      shall be down in a minute.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And holding Jeanne by the hand to prevent her following Micheline, she
+      added:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Stay; I have something to say to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne looked surprised. Madame Desvarennes was silent for a moment. She
+      was thinking about Serge coming there that night. She had only to say one
+      word to Cayrol to prevent his going away. The life of this wretch was
+      entirely in her hands then! But Jeanne! Was she going to ruin her? Had she
+      the right thus to destroy one who had struggled and had defended herself?
+      Would it be just? Jeanne had been led on against her will. She must
+      question her. If the poor girl were suffering, if she repented, she must
+      spare her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes, having thus made up her mind, turned toward Jeanne who
+      was waiting.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is a long time since I have seen you, my dear, and I find you happy
+      and smiling. It is the first time since your marriage that you have seemed
+      so happy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne looked at the mistress without answering. In these words she
+      detected irony.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have found peace,&rdquo; continued Madame Desvarennes, looking steadfastly
+      at Jeanne with her piercing eyes. &ldquo;You see, my dear, when you have a clear
+      conscience&mdash;for you have nothing to reproach yourself with?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne saw in this sentence a question and not an affirmation. She
+      answered, boldly:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You know that I love you, and would be most lenient,&rdquo; continued Madame
+      Desvarennes, sweetly, &ldquo;and that you might safely confide in me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have nothing to fear, having nothing to tell,&rdquo; said Jeanne.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing?&rdquo; repeated the mistress, with emphasis.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing,&rdquo; affirmed Jeanne.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes once more looked at her adopted daughter as if she
+      would read her very soul. She found her quite calm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well, then!&rdquo; said she, hastily walking toward the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you going already?&rdquo; asked Jeanne, offering her brow to Madame
+      Desvarennes&rsquo;s lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, good-by!&rdquo; said the latter, with an icy kiss.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne, without again turning round, went into the drawing-room. At the
+      same moment, Cayrol, in a travelling-coat, entered the office, followed by
+      Pierre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here I am, quite ready,&rdquo; said the banker to Madame Desvarennes. &ldquo;Have you
+      any new suggestion to make to me, or anything else to say?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; replied Madame Desvarennes, in a stern voice which made Cayrol
+      start.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then make haste. I have only a moment to spare, and you know the train
+      waits for no one.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will not go!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cayrol, in amazement, answered:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you mean it? Your interests are at stake yonder.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your honor is in danger here,&rdquo; cried the mistress, vehemently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My honor!&rdquo; repeated Cayrol, starting back. &ldquo;Madame, do you know what you
+      are saying?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ay!&rdquo; answered Madame Desvarennes. &ldquo;And do you remember what I promised
+      you? I undertook to warn you, myself, if ever the day came when you would
+      be threatened.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well?&rdquo; questioned Cayrol, turning quite livid.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well! I keep my promise. If you wish to know who your rival is, come home
+      to-night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Some inaudible words rattled in Cayrol&rsquo;s throat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A rival! in my house! Can Jeanne be guilty? Do you know, if it is true I
+      will kill them both!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Deal with them as your conscience dictates,&rdquo; said Madame Desvarennes. &ldquo;I
+      have acted according to mine.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pierre, hitherto dumb with horror at the scene of which he had been a
+      witness, shook off his stupor, and going up to Madame Desvarennes, said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame, do you know that what you have just done is frightful!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How? That man will be acting within his rights the same as I am. They are
+      seeking to take away his wife, and they are killing my daughter, and
+      dishonoring me! We are defending ourselves! Woe to those who are guilty of
+      the crime!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cayrol had fallen, as if thunderstruck, on a chair, with haggard eyes; his
+      voice was gone, and he looked the image of despair. Madame Desvarennes&rsquo;s
+      words came back to him like the refrain of a hated song. To himself he
+      kept repeating, without being able to chase away the one haunting thought:
+      &ldquo;Her lover, to-night, at your house!&rdquo; He felt as if he were going mad. He
+      was afraid he should not have time to wreak his vengeance. He made a
+      terrible effort, and, moaning with grief, he arose.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take care!&rdquo; said Pierre. &ldquo;Here&rsquo;s your wife.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cayrol eyed Jeanne, who was approaching. Burning tears came to his eyes.
+      He murmured:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She, with a look so pure, and a face so calm! Is it possible?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He nodded a farewell to Pierre and Madame Desvarennes, who were leaving,
+      and recovering himself, advanced to meet Jeanne.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you off?&rdquo; she inquired. &ldquo;You know you have no time to lose!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cayrol shuddered. She seemed anxious to get rid of him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have still a few minutes to spend with you,&rdquo; he said, with emotion.
+      &ldquo;You see, Jeanne, I am sad at going away alone. It is the first time I
+      have left you. In a moment our guests will be gone&mdash;I beg of you,
+      come with me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne smiled. &ldquo;But you see, dear, I am in evening dress.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The night of our marriage I brought you away from Cernay like that. Wrap
+      yourself up in your furs, and come! Give me this proof of affection. I
+      deserve it. I am not a bad man&mdash;and I love you so!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne frowned. This pressing vexed her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is childish,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;You will return the day after tomorrow, and
+      I am tired. Have some pity for me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You refuse?&rdquo; asked Cayrol, becoming gloomy and serious.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne touched his face slightly with her white hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come! Don&rsquo;t leave me in a temper! You won&rsquo;t miss me much, you will sleep
+      all the way. Good-by!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cayrol kissed her; in a choking voice, he said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good-by!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And he left her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne&rsquo;s face brightened, as she stood listening for a moment and heard
+      the carriage which contained her husband rolling away. Uttering a sigh of
+      relief, she murmured:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At last!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XX. THE CRISIS
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne had just taken off her ball-dress to put on a dressing-gown of
+      Oriental cloth richly embroidered with silk flowers. Leaning her elbows on
+      the mantelpiece, and breathing heavily, she was waiting. Her maid came in,
+      bringing a second lamp. The additional light displayed the rich warm
+      hangings of ruby plush embroidered in dull gold. The bed seemed one mass
+      of lace.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Has everybody gone?&rdquo; asked Jeanne, pretending to yawn.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Messieurs Le Brede and Du Tremblay, the last guests, are just putting on
+      their overcoats,&rdquo; answered the maid. &ldquo;But Monsieur Pierre Delarue has come
+      back, and is asking whether Madame will speak with him for a moment.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur Delarue?&rdquo; repeated Jeanne, with astonishment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He says he has something important to say to Madame.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where is he?&rdquo; asked Jeanne.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There, in the gallery. The lights were being put out in the
+      drawing-room.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, show him in.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The maid went out. Jeanne, much puzzled, asked herself, what could have
+      brought Pierre back? It must certainly be something very important. She
+      had always felt somewhat awed in Pierre&rsquo;s presence. At that moment the
+      idea of being face to face with the young man was most distressing to her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A curtain was lifted and Pierre appeared. He remained silent and confused
+      at the entrance of the room, his courage had deserted him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; said Jeanne, with assumed stiffness, &ldquo;whatever is the matter, my
+      friend?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The matter is, my dear Jeanne,&rdquo; began Pierre, &ldquo;that&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But the explanation did not seem so very easy to give, for he stopped and
+      could not go on.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That?&rdquo; repeated Madame Cayrol.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I beg your pardon,&rdquo; resumed Pierre. &ldquo;I am greatly embarrassed. In coming
+      here I obeyed a sudden impulse. I did not think of the manner in which I
+      should tell you what I have to say, and I see that I shall have to run a
+      great risk of offending you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne assumed a haughty air.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, but, my dear friend, if what you have to say is so difficult, don&rsquo;t
+      say it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Impossible!&rdquo; retorted Pierre. &ldquo;My silence would cause irreparable
+      mischief. In mercy, Jeanne, make my task easier! Meet me half way! You
+      have projects for to-night which are known. Danger threatens you. Take
+      care!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne shuddered. But controlling herself, she answered, laughing
+      nervously:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What rubbish are you talking about? I am at home, surrounded by my
+      servants, and I have nothing to fear. I beg of you to believe me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You deny it!&rdquo; exclaimed Pierre. &ldquo;I expected as much. But you are only
+      taking useless trouble. Come, Jeanne, I am the friend of your childhood;
+      you have no reason to fear aught from me. I am only trying to be of use to
+      you. You must know that, by my coming here, I know all. Jeanne, listen to
+      me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you mad?&rdquo; interrupted the young woman, proudly, &ldquo;or are you taking
+      part in some absurd joke?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am in my right mind, unfortunately for you!&rdquo; said Pierre, roughly,
+      seeing that Jeanne refused to believe him. &ldquo;And there is no joke in the
+      matter. Everything is true, serious and terrible! Since you compel me to
+      say things which may be unpalatable, they must out. Prince Panine is in
+      your house, or he soon will be. Your husband, whom you think far away, is
+      within call, perhaps, and will come and take you unawares. Is not that a
+      serious matter?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A frown overspread her face, and in an ungovernable rage she stepped
+      forward, determined not to give in, and exclaimed:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go away! or I shall call for assistance!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t call, it would look bad!&rdquo; resumed Pierre, calmly. &ldquo;On the contrary,
+      let the servants get out of the way, and get the Prince to go if he be
+      here, or if he has not yet arrived, prevent his coming in. So long as I
+      remain here you will dissimulate your fear and will not take any
+      precautions. I will leave you, then. Adieu, Jeanne! Believe that I wished
+      to render you a service, and be sure that when I have crossed the
+      threshold of this door I shall have forgotten everything that I may have
+      said.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pierre bowed, and, lifting the heavy curtain which hid the door leading to
+      the gallery, went out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He had hardly gone when the opposite door opened, and Serge entered the
+      room. The young woman rushed into his arms and whispered into his ear,
+      with trembling lips:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Serge, we are lost!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was there,&rdquo; answered Panine. &ldquo;I heard all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What shall we do?&rdquo; cried Jeanne, terrified.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go away at once. To remain here a moment longer is an imprudence.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I, if I remain, what shall I say to Cayrol when he comes?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your husband!&rdquo; said Serge, bitterly. &ldquo;He loves you, he will forgive you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know; but then we two shall be separated for ever. Is that what you
+      desire?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what can I do?&rdquo; cried Serge, in despair. &ldquo;Everything around me is
+      giving way! Fortune, which has been my one aim in life, is escaping from
+      me. The family which I have scorned is forsaking me. The friendship which
+      I have betrayed overwhelms me. There is nothing left to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And my love, my devotion?&rdquo; exclaimed Jeanne, passionately. &ldquo;Do you think
+      that I will leave you? We must go away. I asked you long ago. You
+      resisted; the moment has now come. Be easy! Madame Desvarennes will pay
+      and save your name. In exchange you will give her back her daughter. You
+      don&rsquo;t care about her, because you love me. I am your real wife; she who
+      ought to share your life. Well, I take back my rights. I pay for them with
+      my honor. I break all ties which could hold me back. I am yours, Serge!
+      Our sin and misfortune will bind us more closely than any laws could.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Think, that with me you will have to endure poverty, and, perhaps,
+      misery,&rdquo; said the Prince, moved by the young woman&rsquo;s infatuation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My love will make you forget everything!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will not feel regret or remorse?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never, so long as you love me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come, then,&rdquo; said the Prince, taking Jeanne in his arms. &ldquo;And if life is
+      too hard&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; added Jeanne, finishing the sentence with sparkling eyes, &ldquo;we will
+      seek refuge together in death! Come!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge bolted the door, through which Pierre had passed, and which alone
+      communicated with the other apartments. Then, taking his mistress by the
+      hand, he went with her into the dressing-room. Jeanne threw a dark cloak
+      round her shoulders, put a hat on her head, and without taking either
+      money, jewels, lace, or, in fact, anything that she had received from
+      Cayrol, they went down the little back stairs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was very dark. Jeanne did not take a light, as she did not care to
+      attract attention, so they had to feel every step of the way as quietly as
+      possible, striving not to make the least noise, holding their breath, and
+      with beating hearts. When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Jeanne
+      stretched out her hand, and sought the handle of the door which opened
+      into the courtyard. She turned it, but the door would not open. She
+      pushed, but it did not give way. Jeanne uttered a low groan. Serge shook
+      it vigorously, but it would not open.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It has been fastened on the outside,&rdquo; he whispered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fastened?&rdquo; murmured Jeanne, seized with fear. &ldquo;Fastened, and by whom?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge did not answer. The idea that Cayrol had done it came to his mind at
+      once. The husband lying in wait, had seen him enter, and to prevent his
+      escaping from his vengeance had cut off all means of retreating.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Silently, they went upstairs again, into the room through the
+      dressing-room. Jeanne took off her bonnet and cloak, and sank into an
+      armchair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I must get away!&rdquo; said Serge, with suppressed rage; and he walked toward
+      the door of the gallery.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No! don&rsquo;t open that,&rdquo; cried Jeanne, excitedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And with a frightened look, she added:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What if he were behind the door?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At the same moment, as if Jeanne&rsquo;s voice had indeed evoked Cayrol, a heavy
+      step was heard approaching along the gallery, a hand tried to open the
+      bolted door. Serge and Jeanne remained motionless, waiting.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Jeanne!&rdquo; called the voice of Cayrol from the outside, sounding mournfully
+      in the silence, &ldquo;Jeanne, open!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And with his fist he knocked imperatively on the woodwork.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know you are there! Open, I say!&rdquo; he cried, with increasing rage. &ldquo;If
+      you don&rsquo;t open the door, I&rsquo;ll&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go! I beseech you!&rdquo; whispered Jeanne, in Panine&rsquo;s ear. &ldquo;Go downstairs
+      again, and break open the door. You won&rsquo;t find any one there now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps he has stationed some one there,&rdquo; answered Serge. &ldquo;Besides, I
+      won&rsquo;t leave you here alone exposed to his violence.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are not alone. I can hear you talking!&rdquo; said Cayrol, beside himself.
+      &ldquo;I shall break open this door!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The husband made a tremendous effort. Under the pressure of his heavy
+      weight the lock gave way. With a bound he was in the middle of the room.
+      Jeanne threw herself before him; she no longer trembled. Cayrol took
+      another step and fixed his glaring eyes on the man whom he sought,
+      uttering a fearful oath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Serge!&rdquo; cried he. &ldquo;I might have guessed it. It is not only money of which
+      you are robbing me, you villain!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Panine turned horribly pale, and advanced toward Cayrol, despite Jeanne,
+      who was clinging to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t insult me; it is superfluous,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;My life belongs to you;
+      you can take it. I shall be at your service whenever you please.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cayrol burst into a fearful laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! a duel! Come! Am I a gentleman? I am a plebeian! a rustic! a cowherd!
+      you know that! I have you now! I am going to smash you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He looked round the room as if seeking a weapon, and caught sight of the
+      heavy fire-dogs. He caught up one with a cry of triumph, and, brandishing
+      it like a club, rushed at Serge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      More rapid than he, Jeanne threw herself before her lover. She stretched
+      out her arms, and with a sharp voice, and the look of a she-wolf defending
+      her cubs,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Keep behind me,&rdquo; said she to Serge; &ldquo;he loves me and will not dare to
+      strike!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cayrol had stopped. At these words he uttered a loud cry: &ldquo;wretched woman!
+      You first, then!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Raising his weapon, he was about to strike, when his eyes met Jeanne&rsquo;s.
+      The young woman was smiling, happy to die for her lover. Her pale face
+      beamed from out her black hair with weird beauty. Cayrol trembled. That
+      look which he had loved, would he never see it again? That rosy mouth,
+      whose smile he cherished, would it be hushed in death? A thousand thoughts
+      of happy days came to his mind. His arm fell. A bitter flood rushed from
+      his heart to his eyes; the iron dropped heavily from his hand on to the
+      floor, and the poor man, overcome, sobbing, and ashamed of his weakness,
+      fell senseless on a couch.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne did not utter a word. By a sign she showed Serge the door, which
+      was open, and with a swollen heart she leaned on the mantelpiece, waiting
+      for the unfortunate man, from whom she had received such a deep and sad
+      proof of love, to come back to life.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge had disappeared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXI. &ldquo;WHEN ROGUES FALL OUT&rdquo;
+     </h2>
+    <p>
+      The night seemed long to Madame Desvarennes. Agitated and feverish, she
+      listened through the silence, expecting every moment to hear some fearful
+      news. In fancy she saw Cayrol entering his wife&rsquo;s room like a madman,
+      unawares. She seemed to hear a cry of rage, answered by a sigh of terror;
+      then a double shot resounded, the room filled with smoke, and, struck down
+      in their guilty love, Serge and Jeanne rolled in death, interlaced in each
+      other&rsquo;s arms, like Paolo and Francesca de Rimini, those sad lovers of whom
+      Dante tells us.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hour after hour passed; not a sound disturbed the mansion. The Prince had
+      not come in. Madame Desvarennes, unable to lie in bed, arose, and now and
+      again, to pass the time, stole on tiptoe to her daughter&rsquo;s room.
+      Micheline, thoroughly exhausted with fatigue and emotion, had fallen
+      asleep on her pillow, which was wet with tears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bending over her, by the light of the lamp, the mistress gazed at
+      Micheline&rsquo;s pale face, and a sigh rose to her lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She is still young,&rdquo; she thought; &ldquo;she may begin life afresh. The
+      remembrance of these sad days will be wiped out, and I shall see her
+      revive and smile again. That wretch was nearly the death of her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And the image of Serge and Jeanne stretched beside each other in the room
+      full of smoke came before her eyes again. She shook her head to chase the
+      importunate vision away, and noiselessly regained her own apartment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The day dawned pale and bleak. Madame Desvarennes opened her window and
+      cooled her burning brow in the fresh morning air. The birds were awake,
+      and were singing on the trees in the garden.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Little by little, the distant sound of wheels rolling by was heard. The
+      city was awakening from its sleep.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes rang and asked for Marechal. The secretary appeared
+      instantly. He, too, had shared the anxieties and fears of the mistress,
+      and had risen early. Madame Desvarennes greeted him with a grateful smile.
+      She felt that she was really loved by this good fellow, who understood her
+      so thoroughly. She begged him to go to Cayrol&rsquo;s, and gain some
+      information, without giving him further details, and she waited, walking
+      up and down the room to calm the fever of her mind.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On leaving the house in the Rue Taitbout, Serge felt bewildered, not
+      daring to go home, and unable to decide on any plan; yet feeling that it
+      was necessary to fix on something without delay, he reached the club. The
+      walk did him good, and restored his physical equilibrium. He was thankful
+      to be alive after such a narrow escape. He went upstairs with a
+      comparatively light step, and tossed his overcoat to a very sleepy footman
+      who had risen to receive him. He went into the card-room. Baccarat was
+      just finishing. It was three o&rsquo;clock in the morning. The appearance of the
+      Prince lent the game a little fresh animation. Serge plunged into it as if
+      it were a battle. Luck was on his side. In a short time he cleared the
+      bank: a thousand louis. One by one the players retired. Panine, left
+      alone, threw himself on a couch and slept for a few hours, but it was not
+      a refreshing sleep. On the contrary, it made him feel more tired.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The day servants disturbed him when they came in to sweep the rooms and
+      open the windows. He went into the lavatory, and there bathed his face.
+      When his ablutions were over he wrote a note to Jeanne, saying that he had
+      reflected, and could not possibly let her go away with him. He implored
+      her to do all in her power to forget him. He gave this letter to one of
+      the messengers, and told him to give it into the hands of Madame Cayrol&rsquo;s
+      maid, and to none other.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The care of a woman and the worry of another household seemed unbearable
+      to him. Besides, what could he do with Jeanne? The presence of his
+      mistress would prevent his being able to go back to Micheline. And now he
+      felt that his only hope of safety was in Micheline&rsquo;s love for him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But first of all he must go and see if Herzog had returned, and ascertain
+      the real facts of the position in regard to the Universal Credit Company.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Herzog occupied a little house on the Boulevard Haussmann, which he had
+      hired furnished from some Americans. The loud luxury of the Yankees had
+      not frightened him. On the contrary, he held that the gay colors of the
+      furniture and the glitter of the gilded cornices were bound to have a
+      fascination for prospective shareholders. Suzanne had reserved a little
+      corner for herself, modestly hung with muslin and furnished with simple
+      taste, which was a great contrast to the loud appearance of the other part
+      of the house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On arriving, Serge found a stableman washing a victoria. Herzog had
+      returned. The Prince quietly went up the steps, and had himself announced.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The financier was sitting in his study by the window, looking through the
+      newspapers. When Serge entered he rose. The two men stood facing each
+      other for a moment. The Prince was the first to speak.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How is it that you have kept me without news during your absence?&rdquo; asked
+      he, harshly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because,&rdquo; replied Herzog, calmly, &ldquo;the only news I had was not good
+      news.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At least I should have known it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Would the result of the operation have been different?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have led me like a child in this affair,&rdquo; Serge continued, becoming
+      animated. &ldquo;I did not know where I was going. You made me promises, how
+      have you kept them?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As I was able,&rdquo; quietly answered Herzog. &ldquo;Play has its chances. One seeks
+      Austerlitz and finds Waterloo.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But,&rdquo; cried the Prince, angrily, &ldquo;the shares which you sold ought not to
+      have gone out of your hands.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You believed that?&rdquo; retorted the financier, ironically. &ldquo;If they ought
+      not to have gone out of my hands it was hardly worth while putting them
+      into them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In short,&rdquo; said Panine, eager to find some responsible party on whom he
+      could pour out all the bitterness of his misfortune, &ldquo;you took a mean
+      advantage of me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good! I expected you to say that!&rdquo; returned Herzog, smiling. &ldquo;If the
+      business had succeeded, you would have accepted your share of the spoil
+      without any scruples, and would have felt ready to crown me. It has
+      failed; you are trying to get out of the responsibility, and are on the
+      point of treating me as if I were a swindler. Still, the affair would not
+      have been more honest in the first instance than in the second, but
+      success embellishes everything.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge looked hard at Herzog.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is there to prove,&rdquo; replied he, &ldquo;that this speculation, which brings
+      ruin and loss to me, does not enrich you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ungrateful fellow!&rdquo; observed the financier, ironically, &ldquo;you suspect me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of having robbed me!&rdquo; cried Serge, in a rage. &ldquo;Why not?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Herzog, for a moment, lost his temper and turned red in the face. He
+      seized Panine violently by the arm, and said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gently, Prince; whatever insults you heap upon me must be shared by you.
+      You are my partner.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Scoundrel!&rdquo; yelled Panine, exasperated at being held by Herzog.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Personalities,&rdquo; said the financier, in a jesting tone. &ldquo;Then I take my
+      leave!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And loosing his hold of the Prince, he went toward the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge sprang after him, exclaiming:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You shall not leave this room until you have given me the means of
+      rectifying this disaster.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then let us talk sensibly, as boon companions,&rdquo; said Herzog. &ldquo;I know of a
+      marvellous move by which we can get out of the difficulty. Let us boldly
+      call a general meeting. I will explain the thing, and amaze everybody. We
+      shall get a vote of confidence for the past, with funds for the future. We
+      shall be as white as snow, and the game is played. Are you in with me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Enough,&rdquo; replied the Prince, intensely disgusted. &ldquo;It does not suit me to
+      do a yet more shameful thing in order to get out of this trouble. It is no
+      use arguing further; we are lost.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Only the weak allow themselves to be lost!&rdquo; exclaimed the financier. &ldquo;The
+      strong defend themselves. You may give in if you like; I won&rsquo;t. Three
+      times have I been ruined and three times have I risen again. My head is
+      good! I am down now. I shall rise again, and when I am well off, and have
+      a few millions to spare, I will settle old debts. Everybody will be
+      astonished because they won&rsquo;t expect it, and I shall be more thought of
+      than if I had paid up at the time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And if you are not allowed to go free?&rdquo; asked Serge. &ldquo;What if they arrest
+      you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall be in Aix-la-Chapelle to-night,&rdquo; said Herzog. &ldquo;From there I shall
+      treat with the shareholders of the Universal Credit. People judge things
+      better at a distance. Are you coming with me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; replied Serge, in a low voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are wrong. Fortune is capricious, and in six months we may be richer
+      than we ever have been. But as you have decided, let me give you a piece
+      of advice which will be worth the money you have lost. Confess all to your
+      wife; she can get you out of this difficulty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The financier held out a hand to Serge which he did not take.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! pride!&rdquo; murmured Herzog. &ldquo;After all it is your right&mdash;It is you
+      who pay!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Without answering a word the Prince went out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At that same hour, Madame Desvarennes, tired by long waiting, was pacing
+      up and down her little drawing-room. A door opened and Marechal, the
+      long-looked for messenger, appeared. He had been to Cayrol&rsquo;s, but could
+      not see him. The banker, who had shut himself up in his private office
+      where he had worked all night, had given orders that no one should
+      interrupt him. And as Madame Desvarennes seemed to have a question on her
+      lips which she dared not utter, Marechal added that nothing unusual seemed
+      to have happened at the house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But as the mistress was thanking her secretary, the great gate swung on
+      its hinges, and a carriage rolled into the courtyard. Marechal flew to the
+      window, and uttered one word,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Cayrol!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes motioned to him to leave her, and the banker appeared
+      on the threshold.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At a glance the mistress saw the ravages which the terrible night he had
+      passed through had caused. Yesterday, the banker was rosy, firm, and
+      upright as an oak, now he was bent, and withered like an old man. His hair
+      had become gray about the temples, as if scorched by his burning thoughts.
+      He was only the shadow of himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes advanced toward him, and in one word asked a world of
+      questions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well?&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cayrol, gloomy and fierce, raised his eyes to the mistress, and answered:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did he not come?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, he came. But I had not the necessary energy to kill him. I thought
+      it was an easier matter to become a murderer. And you thought so too, eh?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Cayrol!&rdquo; cried Madame Desvarennes, shuddering, and troubled to find that
+      she had been so easily understood by him whom she had armed on her behalf.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The opportunity was a rare one, though,&rdquo; continued Cayrol, getting
+      excited. &ldquo;Fancy; I found them together under my own roof. The law allowed
+      me, if not the actual right to kill them, at least an excuse if I did so.
+      Well, at the decisive moment, when I ought to have struck the blow, my
+      heart failed me. He lives, and Jeanne loves him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a pause.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What are you going to do?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Get rid of him in another way,&rdquo; answered Cayrol. &ldquo;I had only two ways of
+      killing him. One was to catch him in my own house, the other to call him
+      out. My will failed me in the one case; my want of skill would fail me in
+      the other. I will not fight Serge. Not because I fear death, for my life
+      is blighted, and I don&rsquo;t value it; but if I were dead, Jeanne would belong
+      to him, and I could not bear the thought of that even in death. I must
+      separate them forever.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And how?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By forcing him to disappear.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And if he refuse?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cayrol shook his head menacingly, and exclaimed:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I defy him! If he resist, I will bring him before the assizes!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You?&rdquo; said Madame Desvarennes, going nearer to Cayrol.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I!&rdquo; answered the banker, with energy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wretched man! And my daughter?&rdquo; cried the mistress. &ldquo;Think well what you
+      are saying! You would disgrace me and mine.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Am I not dishonored myself?&rdquo; asked Cayrol. &ldquo;Your son-in-law is a robber,
+      who has defiled my home and robbed my safe.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An honest man does not seek to revenge himself after the manner you
+      suggest,&rdquo; said the mistress, gravely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An honest man defends himself as he can. I am not a knight. I am only a
+      financier. Money is my weapon. The Prince has stolen from me. I will have
+      him sentenced as a thief.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes frowned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Make out your account. I will pay it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you also pay me for my lost happiness?&rdquo; cried the banker,
+      exasperated. &ldquo;Should I not rather have chosen to be ruined than be
+      betrayed as I am? You can never repair the wrong he has done me. And then
+      I am suffering so, I must have my revenge!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! fool that you are,&rdquo; replied Madame Desvarennes. &ldquo;The guilty will not
+      feel your blows, but the innocent. When my daughter and I are in despair
+      will you be less unhappy! Oh! Cayrol, take heed that you lose not in
+      dignity what you gain in revenge. The less one is respected by others the
+      more one must respect one&rsquo;s self. Contempt and silence elevate the victim,
+      while rage and hatred make him descend to the level of those who have
+      outraged him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let people judge me as they please. I care only for myself! I am a vulgar
+      soul, and have a low mind&mdash;anything you like. But the idea that that
+      woman belongs to another drives me mad. I ought to hate her, but,
+      notwithstanding everything, I cannot live without her. If she will come
+      back to me I will forgive her. It is ignoble! I feel it, but it is too
+      strong for me. I adore her!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Before that blind love Madame Desvarennes shuddered. She thought of
+      Micheline who loved Serge as Cayrol loved Jeanne.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Suppose she chooses to go away with Serge,&rdquo; said the mistress to herself.
+      In a moment she saw the house abandoned, Micheline and Serge in foreign
+      lands, and she alone in the midst of her overthrown happiness, dying of
+      sadness and regrets. She made a last effort to move Cayrol.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come, must I appeal in vain? Can you forget that I was a sure and devoted
+      friend to you, and that you owe your fortune to me? You are a good man and
+      will not forget the past. You have been outraged and have the right of
+      seeking revenge, but think that in carrying it out you will hurt two women
+      who have never done you any harm. Be generous! Be just! Spare us!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cayrol remained silent; his face did not relax. After a moment he said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You see how low I have fallen, by not yielding at once to your
+      supplications! Friendship, gratitude, generosity, all the good feelings I
+      had, have been consumed by this execrable love. There is nothing left but
+      love for her. For her, I forget everything. I degrade and debase myself.
+      And what is worse than all, is that I know all this and yet I cannot help
+      myself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Miserable man!&rdquo; murmured the mistress.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh! most miserable,&rdquo; sobbed Cayrol, falling into an armchair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes approached him, and quietly placed her hand on his
+      shoulder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Cayrol, you are weeping? Then, forgive.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The banker arose and, with lowering brow, said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No! my resolution is irrevocable. I wish to place a world between Jeanne
+      and Serge. If he has not gone away by tonight my complaint will be lodged
+      in the courts of justice.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes no longer persisted. She saw that the husband&rsquo;s heart
+      was permanently closed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is well. I thank you for having warned me. You might have taken action
+      without doing so. Good-by, Cayrol. I leave your conscience to judge
+      between you and me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The banker bowed, and murmured:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good-by!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And with a heavy step, almost tottering, he went out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The sun had risen, and lit up the trees in the garden. Nature seemed to be
+      making holiday. The flowers perfumed the air, and in the deep blue sky
+      swallows were flying to and fro. This earthly joy exasperated Madame
+      Desvarennes. She would have liked the world to be in mourning. She closed
+      the window hastily, and remained lost in her own reflections.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So everything was over! The great prosperity, the honor of the house,
+      everything was foundering in a moment. Even her daughter might escape from
+      her, and follow the infamous husband whom she adored in spite of his
+      faults&mdash;perhaps because of his very faults&mdash;and might drag on a
+      weary existence in a strange land, which would terminate in death.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For that sweet and delicate child could not live without material comforts
+      and mental ease, and her husband was doomed to go on from bad to worse,
+      and would drag her down with him! The mistress pictured her daughter, that
+      child whom she had brought up with the tenderest care, dying on a pallet,
+      and the husband, odious to the last, refusing her admission to the room
+      where Micheline was in agony.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A fearful feeling of anger overcame her. Her motherly love gained the
+      mastery, and in the silence of the room she roared out these words:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That shall not be!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The opening of the door recalled her to her senses, and she rose. It was
+      Marechal, greatly agitated. After Cayrol&rsquo;s arrival, not knowing what to
+      do, he had gone to the Universal Credit Company, and there, to his
+      astonishment, had found the offices closed. He had heard from the porter,
+      one of those superb personages dressed in blue and red cloth, who were so
+      important in the eyes of the shareholders, that the evening before, owing
+      to the complaint of a director, the police had entered the offices, and
+      taken the books away, and that the official seal had been placed on the
+      doors. Marechal, much alarmed, had hastened back to Madame Desvarennes to
+      apprise her of the fact. It was evidently necessary to take immediate
+      steps to meet this new complication. Was this indeed the beginning of
+      legal proceedings? And if so how would the Prince come out of it?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes listened to Marechal, without uttering a word. Events
+      were hurrying on even quicker than she had dreaded. The fears of the
+      interested shareholders outran even the hatred of Cayrol. What would the
+      judges call Herzog&rsquo;s underhand dealings? Would it be embezzlement? Or
+      forgery? Would they come and arrest the Prince at her house? The house of
+      Desvarennes, which had never received a visit from a sheriff&rsquo;s officer,
+      was it to be disgraced now by the presence of the police?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The mistress, in that fatal hour, became herself again. The strong-minded
+      woman of old reappeared. Marechal was more alarmed at this sudden vigor
+      than he had been at her late depression. When he saw Madame Desvarennes
+      going toward the door, he made an effort to detain her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where are you going, Madame?&rdquo; he inquired, with anxiety.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The mistress gave him a look that terrified him, and answered:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am going to square accounts with the Prince.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And, passing through the door leading to the little staircase, Madame
+      Desvarennes went up to her son-in-law&rsquo;s rooms.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXII. THE MOTHER&rsquo;S REVENGE
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      On leaving Herzog, Serge had turned his steps toward the Rue
+      Saint-Dominique. He had delayed the moment of going home as long as
+      possible, but the streets were beginning to be crowded. He might meet some
+      people of his acquaintance. He resolved to face what ever reception was
+      awaiting him on the way, he was planning what course he should adopt to
+      bring about a reconciliation with his redoubtable mother-in-law. He was no
+      longer proud, but felt quite broken down. Only Madame Desvarennes could
+      put him on his feet again; and, as cowardly in trouble as he had been
+      insolent in prosperity, he accepted beforehand all that she might impose
+      upon him; all, provided that she would cover him with her protection.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was frightened, not knowing how deep Herzog had led him in the mire.
+      His moral sense had disappeared, but he had a vague instinct of the danger
+      he had incurred. The financier&rsquo;s last words came to his mind: &ldquo;Confess all
+      to your wife; she can get you out of this difficulty!&rdquo; He understood the
+      meaning of them, and resolved to follow the advice. Micheline loved him.
+      In appealing to her heart, deeply wounded as it was, he would have in her
+      an ally, and he had long known that Madame Desvarennes could not oppose
+      her daughter in anything.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He entered the house through the back garden gate, and regained his room
+      without making the slightest noise. He dreaded meeting Madame Desvarennes
+      before seeing Micheline. First he changed his attire; he had walked about
+      Paris in evening clothes. Looking in the glass he was surprised at the
+      alteration in his features. Was his beauty going too? What would become of
+      him if he failed to please. And, like an actor who is about to play an
+      important part, he paid great attention to the making up of his face. He
+      wished once more to captivate his wife, as his safety depended on the
+      impression he was about to make on her. At last, satisfied with himself,
+      he tried to look smiling, and went to his wife&rsquo;s room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Micheline was up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At the sight of Serge she could not suppress an exclamation of surprise.
+      It was a long time since he had discontinued these familiar visits. The
+      presence of her beloved one in that room, which had seemed so empty when
+      he was not there, made her feel happy, and she went to him with a smile,
+      holding out her hand. Serge drew her gently toward him and kissed her
+      hair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Up, already, dear child,&rdquo; said he, affectionately.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have scarcely slept,&rdquo; answered Micheline. &ldquo;I was so anxious. I sat up
+      for you part of the night. I had left you without saying good-night. It
+      was the first time it had occurred, and I wanted to beg your pardon. But
+      you came in very late.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Micheline, it is I who am ungrateful,&rdquo; interrupted Panine, making the
+      young wife sit down beside him. &ldquo;It is I who must ask you to be
+      indulgent.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Serge! I beg of you!&rdquo; said the young wife, taking both his hands. &ldquo;All is
+      forgotten. I would not reproach you, I love you so much!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Micheline&rsquo;s face beamed with joy, and tears filled her eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are weeping,&rdquo; said Panine. &ldquo;Ah! I feel the weight of my wrongs toward
+      you. I see how deserving you are of respect and affection. I feel
+      unworthy, and would kneel before you to say how I regret all the anxieties
+      I have caused you, and that my only desire in the future will be to make
+      you forget them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh! speak on! speak on!&rdquo; cried Micheline, with delight. &ldquo;What happiness
+      to hear you say such sweet words! Open your heart to me! You know I would
+      die to please you. If you have any anxieties or annoyances confide in me.
+      I can relieve them. Who could resist me when you are in question?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have none, Micheline,&rdquo; answered Serge, with the constrained manner of a
+      man who is feigning. &ldquo;Nothing but the regret of not having lived more for
+      you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is the future not in store for us?&rdquo; said the young wife, looking lovingly
+      at him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince shook his head, saying:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who can answer for the future?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Micheline came closer to her husband, not quite understanding what Serge
+      meant, but her mind was on the alert, and in an alarmed tone, she resumed:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What strange words you are uttering? Are we not both young? And, if you
+      like, is there not much happiness in store for us?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And she clung to him. Serge turned away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, stay,&rdquo; she murmured, again putting her arms round him. &ldquo;You are so
+      truly mine at this moment!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Panine saw that the opportunity for confessing all had come. He was able
+      to bring tears to his eyes, and went toward the window as if to hide his
+      emotion. Micheline followed him, and, in an eager tone, continued:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! I knew you were hiding something. You are unhappy or in pain;
+      threatened perhaps? Ah! if you love me, tell me the truth!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, yes! It is true, I am threatened. I am suffering and unhappy! But
+      don&rsquo;t expect a confession from me. I should blush to make it. But, thank
+      Heaven, if I cannot extricate myself from the difficulty in which I am
+      placed through my own folly and imprudence&mdash;there is yet another way
+      out of it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Serge! you would kill yourself!&rdquo; cried Micheline, terrified at the
+      gesture Panine had made. &ldquo;What would become of me then? But what is there
+      that is so hard to explain? And to whom should it be said?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To your mother,&rdquo; answered Serge, bowing his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To my mother? Very well, I will go to her. Oh! don&rsquo;t fear anything. I can
+      defend you, and to strike you she will first have to attack me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge put his arms round Micheline, and with a kiss, the hypocrite
+      inspired her whom he entrusted with his safety with indomitable courage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wait for me here,&rdquo; added the young wife, and passing through the little
+      drawing-room she reached the smoking-room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She halted there a moment, out of breath and almost choked with emotion.
+      The long expected day had arrived. Serge was coming back to her. She went
+      on, and as she reached the door of the stair leading to her mother&rsquo;s
+      rooms, she heard a light tap from without.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Greatly astonished, she opened the door, and suddenly drew back, uttering
+      an exclamation. A woman, thickly veiled, stood before her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At the sight of Micheline the stranger seemed inclined to turn and fly.
+      But overcome with jealousy, the young wife seized her by the arm, dragged
+      off her veil, and recognizing her, exclaimed:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Jeanne!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Cayrol approached Micheline, and beseechingly stretched out her
+      hands:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Micheline! don&rsquo;t think&mdash;I come&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hold your tongue!&rdquo; cried Micheline. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t tell me any lies! I know all!
+      You are my husband&rsquo;s mistress!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Crushed by such a stroke, Jeanne hid her face in her hands and moaned:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O God!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You must really be bold,&rdquo; continued Micheline, in a furious tone, &ldquo;to
+      seek him here, in my house, almost in my arms!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne drew herself up, blushing with shame and grief.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! don&rsquo;t think,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;that love brings me here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is it then?&rdquo; asked Micheline, contemptuously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The knowledge of inevitable and pressing danger which threatens Serge.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A danger! Of what kind?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Compromised by Herzog, he is at the mercy of my husband, who has sworn to
+      ruin him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your husband!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, he is his rival. If you could ruin me, would you not do it?&rdquo; said
+      Jeanne.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You!&rdquo; retorted Micheline, passionately. &ldquo;Do you think I am going to worry
+      about you? Serge is my first thought. You say you came to warn him. What
+      must be done?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Without a moment&rsquo;s delay he must go away!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A strange suspicion crossed Micheline&rsquo;s mind. She approached Jeanne, and
+      looking earnestly at her, said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He must go away without delay, eh? And it is you, braving everything,
+      without a thought of the trouble you leave behind you, who come to warn
+      him? Ah! you mean to go with him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jeanne hesitated a moment. Then, boldly and impudently, defying and almost
+      threatening the legitimate wife:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, yes, I wish to! Enough of dissimulation! I love him!&rdquo; she
+      exclaimed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Micheline, transfigured by passion, strong, and ready for a struggle,
+      threw herself in Jeanne&rsquo;s way, with arms outstretched, as if to prevent
+      her going to Serge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well!&rdquo; she said; &ldquo;try to take him from me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take him from you!&rdquo; answered Jeanne, laughing like a mad woman. &ldquo;To whom
+      does he most belong? To the woman who was as ignorant of his love as she
+      was of his danger; who could do nothing toward his happiness, and can do
+      nothing for his safety? Or to the mistress who has sacrificed her honor to
+      please him and risks her safety to save him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! wretch!&rdquo; cried Micheline, &ldquo;to invoke your infamy as a right!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Which of us has taken him from the other?&rdquo; continued Jeanne, forgetting
+      respect, modesty, everything. &ldquo;Do you know that he loved me before he
+      married you? Do you know that he abandoned me for you&mdash;for your
+      money, I should say? Now, do you wish to weigh what I have suffered with
+      what you suffer? Shall we make out a balance-sheet of our tears? Then, you
+      will be able to tell which of us he has loved more, and to whom he really
+      belongs.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Micheline had listened to this furious address almost in a state of
+      stupor, and replied, vehemently:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What matter who triumphs if his ruin is certain. Selfish creatures that
+      we are, instead of disputing about his love, let us unite in saving him!
+      You say he must go away! But flight is surely an admission of guilt&mdash;humiliation
+      and obscurity in a strange land. And that is what you advise, because you
+      hope to share that miserable existence with him. You are urging him on to
+      dishonor. His fate is in the hands of a man who adores you, who would
+      sacrifice everything for you, as I would for Serge, and yet you have not
+      thrown yourself at his feet! You have not offered your life as the price
+      of your lover&rsquo;s! And you say that you love him!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; stammered Jeanne, distracted. &ldquo;You wish me to save him for you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is that the cry of your heart?&rdquo; said Micheline, with crushing disdain.
+      &ldquo;Well, see what I am ready to do. If, to remove your jealous fears, it is
+      necessary to sacrifice myself, I swear to you that if Serge be saved, he
+      shall be perfectly free, and I will never see him again!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Micheline, chaste and calm, with hands raised to Heaven, seemed to grow
+      taller and nobler. Jeanne, trembling and overpowered, looked at her rival
+      with a painful effort, and murmured, softly:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Would you do that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I would do more!&rdquo; said the lawful wife, bending before the mistress. &ldquo;I
+      ought to hate you, and I kneel at your feet and beseech you to listen to
+      me. Do what I ask you and I will forgive you and bless you. Do not
+      hesitate! Follow me! Let us throw ourselves at the feet of him whom you
+      have outraged. His generosity cannot be less than ours, and to us, who
+      sacrifice our love, he will not be able to refuse to sacrifice his
+      vengeance.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This greatness and goodness awaked feelings in Jeanne&rsquo;s heart which she
+      thought dead. She was silent for a moment and then her breast heaved with
+      convulsive sobs, and she fell helpless into the arms which Micheline, full
+      of pity, held out to her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Forgive me,&rdquo; moaned the unhappy woman. &ldquo;I am conquered. Your rights are
+      sacred, and you have just made them still more so. Keep Serge: with you he
+      will once more become honest and happy, because, if your love is not
+      greater than mine, it is nobler and purer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The two women went hand in hand to try to save the man whom they both
+      adored.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      All this time Serge remained in the little drawing-room enjoying the hope
+      of returning peace. It was sweet to him, after the troubles he had gone
+      through. He had not the slightest suspicion of the scene in the adjoining
+      room between Jeanne and Micheline. The fond heroism of his wife and the
+      self-denial of his mistress were unknown to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Time was passing. At least an hour had sped since Micheline left him to go
+      to her mother, and Serge was beginning to think that the interview was
+      very long, when a light step made him tremble. It came from the gallery.
+      He thought it was Micheline, and opening the door, he went to meet her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He drew back disappointed, vexed, and anxious, when he found it was
+      Pierre. The two men had never met alone since that terrible night at Nice.
+      Panine assumed a bold demeanor, and returned Pierre&rsquo;s firm look. Steadying
+      his voice, he said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! is it you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Were you not expecting me?&rdquo; answered Pierre whose harsh voice thrilled
+      Serge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince opened his mouth to speak, but Pierre, did not give him time.
+      In stern and provoking accents, he continued:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I made you a promise once; have you forgotten it? I have a good memory.
+      You are a villain, and I come to chastise you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pierre!&rdquo; exclaimed the Prince, starting fiercely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But he suddenly calmed himself, and added:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Leave me! I will not listen to you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will have to, though! You are a source of trouble and shame to the
+      family to which you have allied yourself, and as you have not the courage
+      to kill yourself, I have come to help you. You must leave Paris to-night,
+      or you will be arrested. We shall go together to Brussels and there we
+      shall fight. If chance favors you, you will be at liberty to continue your
+      infamies, but at any rate I shall have done my best to rid two unfortunate
+      women of your presence.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are mad!&rdquo; said Serge, sneeringly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t think so! And know that I am ready for any emergency. Come; must I
+      strike you, to give you courage?&rdquo; growled Pierre, ready to suit the action
+      to the word.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! take care!&rdquo; snarled Serge, with an evil look.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And opening a drawer which was close to him, he took out a revolver.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thief first, then murderer!&rdquo; said Pierre, with a terrible laugh. &ldquo;Come,
+      let&rsquo;s see you do it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And he was going toward the Prince when the door opened, and Madame
+      Desvarennes came forward. Placing her hand on Pierre&rsquo;s shoulder, she said,
+      in that commanding tone which few could resist:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go; wait for me in my room. I wish it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pierre bowed, and, without answering, went out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge had placed the pistol on the table and was waiting.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We have to talk over several matters,&rdquo; said Madame Desvarennes, gravely,
+      &ldquo;and you know it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Madame,&rdquo; answered Panine, sadly, &ldquo;and, believe me, no one judges my
+      conduct more severely than I do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The mistress could not help looking surprised.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; she said, with irony, &ldquo;I did not expect to find you in such a mood.
+      You have not accustomed me to such humility and sweetness. You must be
+      afraid, to have arrived at that stage!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince appeared not to have understood the implied insult in his
+      mother-in-law&rsquo;s words. One thing struck him, which was that she evidently
+      did not expect to find him repentant and humbled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Micheline must have told you,&rdquo; he began.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have not seen my daughter,&rdquo; interrupted the mistress, sharply, as if to
+      make him understand that he must depend solely upon himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Ignorant that Micheline had met Jeanne on her way to her mother, and had
+      gone to Cayrol, Serge thought he was abandoned by his only powerful ally.
+      He saw that he was lost and that his feigned resignation was useless.
+      Unable to control himself any longer, his face darkened with rage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She, too, against me! Well! I will defend myself alone!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Turning toward Madame Desvarennes, he added:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To begin with, what do you want with me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wish to ask you a question. We business folk when we fail, and cannot
+      pay our way, throw blood on the blot and it disappears. You members of the
+      nobility, when you are disgraced, how do you manage?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If I am not mistaken, Madame,&rdquo; answered the Prince, in a light tone, &ldquo;you
+      do me the favor of asking what my intentions are for the future? I will
+      answer you with precision. I purpose leaving to-night for Aix-la-Chapelle,
+      where I shall join my friend Herzog. We shall begin our business again. My
+      wife, on whose good feelings I rely, will accompany me, notwithstanding
+      everything.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And in these last words he put all the venom of his soul.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My daughter will not leave me!&rdquo; exclaimed Madame Desvarennes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well, then, you can accompany her,&rdquo; retorted Panine. &ldquo;That
+      arrangement will suit me. Since my troubles I have learned to appreciate
+      domestic happiness.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! you hope to play your old games on me,&rdquo; said Madame Desvarennes. &ldquo;You
+      won&rsquo;t get much out of me. My daughter and I with you&mdash;in the stream
+      where you are going to sink? Never!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, then,&rdquo; cried Panine, &ldquo;what do you expect?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A violent ring at the front door resounded as Madame Desvarennes was about
+      to answer, and stopped the words on her lips. This signal, which was used
+      only on important occasions, sounded to Madame like a funeral knell. Serge
+      frowned, and instinctively moved back.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Marechal appeared through the half-open door with a scared face, and
+      silently handed Madame Desvarennes a card. She glanced at it, turned pale,
+      and said to the secretary:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well, let him wait!&rdquo; She threw the card on the table. Serge came
+      forward and read:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Delbarre, sheriff&rsquo;s officer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Haggard-looking and aghast, he turned to the mistress, as if seeking an
+      explanation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well!&rdquo; she observed: &ldquo;it is clear, he has come to arrest you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge rushed to a cabinet, and opening a drawer, took forth some handfuls
+      of gold and notes, which he crammed into his pockets.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By the back stairs I shall have time to get away. It is my last chance!
+      Keep the man for five minutes only.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And if the door is guarded?&rdquo; asked Madame Desvarennes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Serge remained abject before her. He felt himself enclosed in a ring which
+      he could not break through.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One may be prosecuted without being condemned,&rdquo; he gasped. &ldquo;You will use
+      your influence, I know, and you will get me out of this mess. I shall be
+      grateful to you for ever, and will do anything you like! But don&rsquo;t leave
+      me, it would be cowardly!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He trembled, as he thus besought her distractedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The son-in-law of Madame Desvarennes does not go before the Assize Courts
+      even to be acquitted,&rdquo; said she, with a firm voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What would you have me do?&rdquo; cried Serge, passionately.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes did not answer, but pointed to the revolver on the
+      table.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Kill myself? Ah! no; that would be giving you too much pleasure.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And he gave the weapon a push, so that it rolled close to Madame
+      Desvarennes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! wretch!&rdquo; cried she, giving way to her suppressed rage. &ldquo;You are not
+      even a Panine! The Panines knew how to die.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have not time to act a melodrama with you,&rdquo; snarled Serge. &ldquo;I am going
+      to try to save myself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And he took a step toward the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The mistress seized the revolver, and threw herself before him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You shall not go out!&rdquo; she cried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you mad?&rdquo; he exclaimed, gnashing his teeth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You shall not go out!&rdquo; repeated the mistress, with flashing eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We shall see!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And with a strong arm he seized Madame Desvarennes, and threw her aside.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The mistress became livid. Serge had his hand on the handle of the door.
+      He was about to escape. Madame Desvarennes&rsquo;s arm was stretched forth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A shot made the windows rattle; the weapon fell from her hand, having done
+      its work and, amid the smoke, a body dropped heavily on the carpet, which
+      was soon dyed with blood.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At the same moment, the door opened, and Micheline entered, holding in her
+      hand the fatal receipt which she had just wrung from Cayrol. The young
+      wife uttered a heartrending cry, and fell senseless on Serge&rsquo;s body.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Behind Micheline came the officer and Marechal. The secretary exchanged
+      looks with the mistress, who was lifting her fainting daughter and
+      clasping her in her arms. He understood all.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Turning toward his companion, he said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Alas! sir, here is a sad matter! The Prince, on hearing that you had
+      come, took fright, although his fault was not very serious, and has shot
+      himself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The officer bowed respectfully to the mistress, who was bending over
+      Micheline.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Please to withdraw, Madame. You have already suffered too much,&rdquo; said he.
+      &ldquo;I understand your legitimate grief. If I need any information, this
+      gentleman will give it to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Desvarennes arose, and, without bending under the burden, she bore
+      away on her bosom her daughter, regained.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     ETEXT EDITOR&rsquo;S BOOKMARKS:
+
+     A man weeps with difficulty before a woman
+     A uniform is the only garb which can hide poverty honorably
+     Antagonism to plutocracy and hatred of aristocrats
+     Because they moved, they thought they were progressing
+     Cowardly in trouble as he had been insolent in prosperity
+     Enough to be nobody&rsquo;s unless I belong to him
+     Even those who do not love her desire to know her
+     Everywhere was feverish excitement, dissipation, and nullity
+     Flayed and roasted alive by the critics
+     Forget a dream and accept a reality
+     Hard workers are pitiful lovers
+     He lost his time, his money, his hair, his illusions
+     He was very unhappy at being misunderstood
+     Heed that you lose not in dignity what you gain in revenge
+     I thought the best means of being loved were to deserve it
+     I don&rsquo;t pay myself with words
+     Implacable self-interest which is the law of the world
+     In life it is only nonsense that is common-sense
+     Is a man ever poor when he has two arms?
+     Is it by law only that you wish to keep me?
+     It was a relief when they rose from the table
+     Men of pleasure remain all their lives mediocre workers
+     Money troubles are not mortal
+     My aunt is jealous of me because I am a man of ideas
+     Negroes, all but monkeys!
+     Nothing that provokes laughter more than a disappointed lover
+     One amuses one&rsquo;s self at the risk of dying
+     Patience, should he encounter a dull page here or there
+     Romanticism still ferments beneath the varnish of Naturalism
+     Sacrifice his artistic leanings to popular caprice
+     Scarcely was one scheme launched when another idea occurred
+     She would have liked the world to be in mourning
+     Suffering is a human law; the world is an arena
+     Talk with me sometimes. You will not chatter trivialities
+     The guilty will not feel your blows, but the innocent
+     The uncontested power which money brings
+     They had only one aim, one passion&mdash;to enjoy themselves
+     Unqualified for happiness
+     We had taken the dream of a day for eternal happiness
+     What is a man who remains useless
+     Without a care or a cross, he grew weary like a prisoner
+     You are talking too much about it to be sincere
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Serge Panine, Complete, by Georges Ohnet
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+</pre>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </p>
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+</html>
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Serge Panine, Complete, by Georges Ohnet
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Serge Panine, Complete
+
+Author: Georges Ohnet
+
+Release Date: October 4, 2006 [EBook #3918]
+[Last updated: July 7, 2013]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SERGE PANINE, COMPLETE ***
+
+
+
+Produced by David Widger
+
+
+
+
+SERGE PANINE
+
+By GEORGES OHNET
+
+With a General Introduction to the Series by GASTON BOISSIER, Secretaire
+Perpetuel de l'academie Francaise.
+
+
+
+
+GENERAL INTRODUCTION
+
+1905
+
+BY ROBERT ARNOT
+
+The editor-in-chief of the Maison Mazarin--a man of letters who
+cherishes an enthusiastic yet discriminating love for the literary and
+artistic glories of France--formed within the last two years the great
+project of collecting and presenting to the vast numbers of intelligent
+readers of whom New World boasts a series of those great and undying
+romances which, since 1784, have received the crown of merit awarded by
+the French Academy--that coveted assurance of immortality in letters and
+in art.
+
+In the presentation of this serious enterprise for the criticism and
+official sanction of The Academy, 'en seance', was included a request
+that, if possible, the task of writing a preface to the series should be
+undertaken by me. Official sanction having been bestowed upon the plan,
+I, as the accredited officer of the French Academy, convey to you its
+hearty appreciation, endorsement, and sympathy with a project so nobly
+artistic. It is also my duty, privilege, and pleasure to point out, at
+the request of my brethren, the peculiar importance and lasting value
+of this series to all who would know the inner life of a people whose
+greatness no turns of fortune have been able to diminish.
+
+In the last hundred years France has experienced the most terrible
+vicissitudes, but, vanquished or victorious, triumphant or abased, never
+has she lost her peculiar gift of attracting the curiosity of the world.
+She interests every living being, and even those who do not love her
+desire to know her. To this peculiar attraction which radiates from
+her, artists and men of letters can well bear witness, since it is to
+literature and to the arts, before all, that France owes such living
+and lasting power. In every quarter of the civilized world there are
+distinguished writers, painters, and eminent musicians, but in
+France they exist in greater numbers than elsewhere. Moreover, it
+is universally conceded that French writers and artists have this
+particular and praiseworthy quality: they are most accessible to people
+of other countries. Without losing their national characteristics, they
+possess the happy gift of universality. To speak of letters alone:
+the books that Frenchmen write are read, translated, dramatized, and
+imitated everywhere; so it is not strange that these books give to
+foreigners a desire for a nearer and more intimate acquaintance with
+France.
+
+Men preserve an almost innate habit of resorting to Paris from almost
+every quarter of the globe. For many years American visitors have been
+more numerous than others, although the journey from the United States
+is long and costly. But I am sure that when for the first time they see
+Paris--its palaces, its churches, its museums--and visit Versailles,
+Fontainebleau, and Chantilly, they do not regret the travail they have
+undergone. Meanwhile, however, I ask myself whether such sightseeing
+is all that, in coming hither, they wish to accomplish. Intelligent
+travellers--and, as a rule, it is the intelligent class that feels
+the need of the educative influence of travel--look at our beautiful
+monuments, wander through the streets and squares among the crowds that
+fill them, and, observing them, I ask myself again: Do not such people
+desire to study at closer range these persons who elbow them as they
+pass; do they not wish to enter the houses of which they see but the
+facades; do they not wish to know how Parisians live and speak and act
+by their firesides? But time, alas! is lacking for the formation of
+those intimate friendships which would bring this knowledge within their
+grasp. French homes are rarely open to birds of passage, and visitors
+leave us with regret that they have not been able to see more than the
+surface of our civilization or to recognize by experience the note of
+our inner home life.
+
+How, then, shall this void be filled? Speaking in the first person, the
+simplest means appears to be to study those whose profession it is to
+describe the society of the time, and primarily, therefore, the works of
+dramatic writers, who are supposed to draw a faithful picture of it. So
+we go to the theatre, and usually derive keen pleasure therefrom. But
+is pleasure all that we expect to find? What we should look for
+above everything in a comedy or a drama is a representation, exact as
+possible, of the manners and characters of the dramatis persona of the
+play; and perhaps the conditions under which the play was written do
+not allow such representation. The exact and studied portrayal of
+a character demands from the author long preparation, and cannot be
+accomplished in a few hours. From, the first scene to the last, each
+tale must be posed in the author's mind exactly as it will be proved to
+be at the end. It is the author's aim and mission to place completely
+before his audience the souls of the "agonists" laying bare the
+complications of motive, and throwing into relief the delicate shades
+of motive that sway them. Often, too, the play is produced before a
+numerous audience--an audience often distrait, always pressed for time,
+and impatient of the least delay. Again, the public in general require
+that they shall be able to understand without difficulty, and at first
+thought, the characters the author seeks to present, making it necessary
+that these characters be depicted from their most salient sides--which
+are too often vulgar and unattractive.
+
+In our comedies and dramas it is not the individual that is drawn, but
+the type. Where the individual alone is real, the type is a myth of the
+imagination--a pure invention. And invention is the mainspring of the
+theatre, which rests purely upon illusion, and does not please us unless
+it begins by deceiving us.
+
+I believe, then, that if one seeks to know the world exactly as it is,
+the theatre does not furnish the means whereby one can pursue the study.
+A far better opportunity for knowing the private life of a people is
+available through the medium of its great novels. The novelist deals
+with each person as an individual. He speaks to his reader at an hour
+when the mind is disengaged from worldly affairs, and he can add
+without restraint every detail that seems needful to him to complete the
+rounding of his story. He can return at will, should he choose, to the
+source of the plot he is unfolding, in order that his reader may better
+understand him; he can emphasize and dwell upon those details which an
+audience in a theatre will not allow.
+
+The reader, being at leisure, feels no impatience, for he knows that he
+can at any time lay down or take up the book. It is the consciousness of
+this privilege that gives him patience, should he encounter a dull page
+here or there. He may hasten or delay his reading, according to the
+interest he takes in his romance-nay, more, he can return to the earlier
+pages, should he need to do so, for a better comprehension of some
+obscure point. In proportion as he is attracted and interested by the
+romance, and also in the degree of concentration with which he reads
+it, does he grasp better the subtleties of the narrative. No shade of
+character drawing escapes him. He realizes, with keener appreciation,
+the most delicate of human moods, and the novelist is not compelled to
+introduce the characters to him, one by one, distinguishing them only by
+the most general characteristics, but can describe each of those little
+individual idiosyncrasies that contribute to the sum total of a living
+personality.
+
+When I add that the dramatic author is always to a certain extent a
+slave to the public, and must ever seek to please the passing taste of
+his time, it will be recognized that he is often, alas! compelled to
+sacrifice his artistic leanings to popular caprice-that is, if he has
+the natural desire that his generation should applaud him.
+
+As a rule, with the theatre-going masses, one person follows the fads
+or fancies of others, and individual judgments are too apt to be
+irresistibly swayed by current opinion. But the novelist, entirely
+independent of his reader, is not compelled to conform himself to the
+opinion of any person, or to submit to his caprices. He is absolutely
+free to picture society as he sees it, and we therefore can have more
+confidence in his descriptions of the customs and characters of the day.
+
+It is precisely this view of the case that the editor of the series
+has taken, and herein is the raison d'etre of this collection of
+great French romances. The choice was not easy to make. That form of
+literature called the romance abounds with us. France has always
+loved it, for French writers exhibit a curiosity--and I may say an
+indiscretion--that is almost charming in the study of customs and morals
+at large; a quality that induces them to talk freely of themselves and
+of their neighbors, and to set forth fearlessly both the good and the
+bad in human nature. In this fascinating phase of literature, France
+never has produced greater examples than of late years.
+
+In the collection here presented to American readers will be found
+those works especially which reveal the intimate side of French social
+life-works in which are discussed the moral problems that affect most
+potently the life of the world at large. If inquiring spirits seek to
+learn the customs and manners of the France of any age, they must look
+for it among her crowned romances. They need go back no farther than
+Ludovic Halevy, who may be said to open the modern epoch. In the
+romantic school, on its historic side, Alfred de Vigny must be looked
+upon as supreme. De Musset and Anatole France may be taken as revealing
+authoritatively the moral philosophy of nineteenth-century thought. I
+must not omit to mention the Jacqueline of Th. Bentzon, and the "Attic"
+Philosopher of Emile Souvestre, nor the great names of Loti, Claretie,
+Coppe, Bazin, Bourget, Malot, Droz, De Massa, and last, but not least,
+our French Dickens, Alphonse Daudet. I need not add more; the very names
+of these "Immortals" suffice to commend the series to readers in all
+countries.
+
+One word in conclusion: America may rest assured that her students
+of international literature will find in this series of 'ouvrages
+couronnes' all that they may wish to know of France at her own
+fireside--a knowledge that too often escapes them, knowledge that
+embraces not only a faithful picture of contemporary life in the French
+provinces, but a living and exact description of French society in
+modern times. They may feel certain that when they have read these
+romances, they will have sounded the depths and penetrated into the
+hidden intimacies of France, not only as she is, but as she would be
+known.
+
+GASTON BOISSIER
+
+SECRETAIRE PERPETUEL DE L'ACADEMIE FRANCAISE
+
+
+
+
+GEORGES OHNET
+
+The only French novelist whose books have a circulation approaching the
+works of Daudet and of Zola is Georges Ohnet, a writer whose popularity
+is as interesting as his stories, because it explains, though it does
+not excuse, the contempt the Goncourts had for the favor of the great
+French public, and also because it shows how the highest form of
+Romanticism still ferments beneath the varnish of Naturalism in what is
+called genius among the great masses of readers.
+
+Georges Ohnet was born in Paris, April 3, 1848, the son of an architect.
+He was destined for the Bar, but was early attracted by journalism and
+literature. Being a lawyer it was not difficult for him to join the
+editorial staff of Le Pays, and later Le Constitutionnel. This was soon
+after the Franco-German War. His romances, since collected under
+the title 'Batailles de la Vie', appeared first in 'Le Figaro,
+L'Illustration, and Revue des Deux Mondes', and have been exceedingly
+well received by the public. This relates also to his dramas, some of
+his works meeting with a popular success rarely extended to any author.
+For some time Georges Ohnet did not find the same favor with the
+critics, who often attacked him with a passionate violence and unusual
+severity. True, a high philosophical flow of thoughts cannot be detected
+in his writings, but nevertheless it is certain that the characters and
+the subjects of which he treats are brilliantly sketched and clearly
+developed. They are likewise of perfect morality and honesty.
+
+There was expected of him, however, an idea which was not quite
+realized. Appearing upon the literary stage at a period when Naturalism
+was triumphant, it was for a moment believed that he would restore
+Idealism in the manner of George Sand.
+
+In any case the hostile critics have lost. For years public opinion has
+exalted him, and the reaction is the more significant when compared with
+the tremendous criticism launched against his early romances and novels.
+
+A list of his works follows:
+
+Serge Panine (1881), crowned by the French Academy, has since gone
+through one hundred and fifty French editions; Le Maitre des Forges
+(1882), a prodigious success, two hundred and fifty editions being
+printed (1900); La Comtesse Sarah (1882); Lise Fleuyon (1884); La Grande
+Maynieye (1886); Les Dames de Croix-Mort (1886); Volonte (1888); Le
+Docteur Rameau (1889); Deynier Amour (1889); Le Cure de Favieyes (1890);
+Dette de Haine (1891); Nemsod et Cie. (1892); Le Lendemain des Amours
+(1893); Le Droit de l'Enfant (1894.); Les Vielles Rancunes (1894); La
+Dame en Gris (1895); La Fille du Depute (1896); Le Roi de Paris (1898);
+Au Fond du Gouffre (1899); Gens de la Noce (1900); La Tenibreuse (1900);
+Le Cyasseur d'Affaires (1901); Le Crepuscule (1901); Le Marche a l'Amour
+(1902).
+
+Ohnet's novels are collected under the titles, 'Noir et Rose (1887) and
+L'Ame de Pierre (1890).
+
+The dramatic writings of Georges Ohnet, mostly taken from his novels,
+have greatly contributed to his reputation. Le Maitre des Forges was
+played for a full year (Gymnase, 1883); it was followed by Serge Panine
+(1884); La Comtesse Sarah (1887). La Grande Mayniere (1888), met also
+with a decided and prolonged success; Dernier Amour (Gymnase, 1890);
+Colonel Roquebrune (Porte St. Martin, 1897). Before that he had already
+written the plays Regina Sarpi (1875) and Marthe (1877), which yet hold
+a prominent place upon the French stage.
+
+I have shown in this rapid sketch that a man of the stamp of Georges
+Ohnet must have immortal qualities in himself, even though flayed and
+roasted alive by the critics. He is most assuredly an artist in form, is
+endowed with a brilliant style, and has been named "L'Historiographe
+de la bourgeoise contemporaine." Indeed, antagonism to plutocracy and
+hatred of aristocracy are the fundamental theses in almost every one of
+his books.
+
+His exposition, I repeat, is startlingly neat, the development of his
+plots absolutely logical, and the world has acclaimed his ingenuity in
+dramatic construction. He is truly, and in all senses, of the Ages.
+
+                    VICTOR CHERBOULIEZ
+                   de l'Academie Francaise
+
+
+
+
+SERGE PANINE
+
+
+
+
+BOOK 1.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I. THE HOUSE OF DESVARENNES
+
+The firm of Desvarennes has been in an ancient mansion in the Rue Saint
+Dominique since 1875; it is one of the best known and most important in
+French industry. The counting-houses are in the wings of the building
+looking upon the courtyard, which were occupied by the servants when the
+family whose coat-of-arms has been effaced from above the gate-way were
+still owners of the estate.
+
+Madame Desvarennes inhabits the mansion which she has had magnificently
+renovated. A formidable rival of the Darblays, the great millers of
+France, the firm of Desvarennes is a commercial and political power.
+Inquire in Paris about its solvency, and you will be told that you may
+safely advance twenty millions of francs on the signature of the head of
+the firm. And this head is a woman.
+
+This woman is remarkable. Gifted with keen understanding and a firm
+will, she had in former times vowed to make a large fortune, and she has
+kept her word.
+
+She was the daughter of a humble packer of the Rue Neuve-Coquenard.
+Toward 1848 she married Michel Desvarennes, who was then a journeyman
+baker in a large shop in the Chaussee d'Antin. With the thousand francs
+which the packer managed to give his daughter by way of dowry, the young
+couple boldly took a shop and started a little bakery business. The
+husband kneaded and baked the bread, and the young wife, seated at the
+counter, kept watch over the till. Neither on Sundays nor on holidays
+was the shop shut.
+
+Through the window, between two pyramids of pink and blue packets of
+biscuits, one could always catch sight of the serious-looking Madame
+Desvarennes, knitting woollen stockings for her husband while waiting
+for customers. With her prominent forehead, and her eyes always bent on
+her work, this woman appeared the living image of perseverance.
+
+At the end of five years of incessant work, and possessing twenty
+thousand francs, saved sou by sou, the Desvarennes left the slopes of
+Montmartre, and moved to the centre of Paris. They were ambitious
+and full of confidence. They set up in the Rue Vivienne, in a shop
+resplendent with gilding and ornamented with looking-glasses. The
+ceiling was painted in panels with bright hued pictures that caught the
+eyes of the passers-by. The window-shelves were of white marble, and the
+counter, where Madame Desvarennes was still enthroned, was of a width
+worthy of the receipts that were taken every day. Business increased
+daily; the Desvarennes continued to be hard and systematic workers.
+The class of customers alone had changed; they were more numerous
+and richer. The house had a specialty for making small rolls for the
+restaurants. Michel had learned from the Viennese bakers how to make
+those golden balls which tempt the most rebellious appetite, and which,
+when in an artistically folded damask napkin, set off a dinner-table.
+
+About this time Madame Desvarennes, while calculating how much the
+millers must gain on the flour they sell to the bakers, resolved, in
+order to lessen expenses, to do without middlemen and grind her own
+corn. Michel, naturally timid, was frightened when his wife disclosed to
+him the simple project which she had formed. Accustomed to submit to the
+will of her whom he respectfully called "the mistress," and of whom he
+was but the head clerk, he dared not oppose her. But, a red-tapist by
+nature, and hating innovations, owing to weakness of mind, he trembled
+inwardly and cried in agony:
+
+"Wife, you'll ruin us."
+
+The mistress calmed the poor man's alarm; she tried to impart to him
+some of her confidence, to animate him with her hope, but without
+success, so she went on without him. A mill was for sale at Jouy, on the
+banks of the Oise; she paid ready money for it, and a few weeks later
+the bakery in the Rue Vivienne was independent of every one. She ground
+her own flour, and from that time business increased considerably.
+Feeling capable of carrying out large undertakings, and, moreover,
+desirous of giving up the meannesses of retail trade, Madame
+Desvarennes, one fine day, sent in a tender for supplying bread to the
+military hospitals. It was accepted, and from that time the house ranked
+among the most important. On seeing the Desvarennes take their daring
+flight, the leading men in the trade had said:
+
+"They have system and activity, and if they do not upset on the way,
+they will attain a high position."
+
+But the mistress seemed to have the gift of divination. She worked
+surely--if she struck out one way you might be certain that success
+was there. In all her enterprises, "good luck" stood close by her; she
+scented failures from afar, and the firm never made a bad debt. Still
+Michel continued to tremble. The first mill had been followed by many
+more; then the old system appeared insufficient to Madame Desvarennes.
+As she wished to keep up with the increase of business she had
+steam-mills built,--which are now grinding three hundred million francs'
+worth of corn every year.
+
+Fortune had favored the house immensely, but Michel continued to
+tremble. From time to time when the mistress launched out a new
+business, he timidly ventured on his usual saying:
+
+"Wife, you're going to ruin us."
+
+But one felt it was only for form's sake, and that he himself no
+longer meant what he said. Madame Desvarennes received this plaintive
+remonstrance with a calm smile, and answered, maternally, as to a child:
+
+"There, there, don't be frightened."
+
+Then she would set to work again, and direct with irresistible vigor the
+army of clerks who peopled her counting-houses.
+
+In fifteen years' time, by prodigious efforts of will and energy,
+Madame Desvarennes had made her way from the lonely and muddy Rue
+Neuve-Coquenard to the mansion in the Rue Saint-Dominique. Of the bakery
+there was no longer question. It was some time since the business in the
+Rue Vivienne had been transferred to the foreman of the shop. The flour
+trade alone occupied Madame Desvarennes's attention. She ruled the
+prices in the market; and great bankers came to her office and did
+business with her on a footing of equality. She did not become any
+prouder for it, she knew too well the strength and weakness of life
+to have pride; her former plain dealing had not stiffened into
+self-sufficiency. Such as one had known her when beginning business,
+such one found her in the zenith of her fortune. Instead of a woollen
+gown she wore a silk one, but the color was still black; her language
+had not become refined; she retained the same blunt familiar accent, and
+at the end of five minutes' conversation with any one of importance she
+could not resist calling him "my dear," to come morally near him. Her
+commands had more fulness. In giving her orders, she had the manner of
+a commander-in-chief, and it was useless to haggle when she had spoken.
+The best thing to do was to obey, as well and as promptly as possible.
+
+Placed in a political sphere, this marvellously gifted woman would
+have been a Madame Roland; born to the throne, she would have been a
+Catherine II.; there was genius in her. Sprung from the lower ranks,
+her superiority had given her wealth; had she come from the higher, the
+great mind might have governed the world.
+
+Still she was not happy; she had been married fifteen years, and her
+fireside was devoid of a cradle. During the first years she had rejoiced
+at not having a child. Where could she have found time to occupy herself
+with a baby? Business engrossed her attention; she had no leisure to
+amuse herself with trifles. Maternity seemed to her a luxury for
+rich women; she had her fortune to make. In the struggle against the
+difficulties attending the enterprise she had begun, she had not had
+time to look around her and perceive that her home was lonely. She
+worked from morning till night. Her whole life was absorbed in this
+work, and when night came, overcome with fatigue, she fell asleep, her
+head filled with cares which stifled all tricks of the imagination.
+
+Michel grieved, but in silence; his feeble and dependent nature missed a
+child. He, whose mind lacked occupation, thought of the future. He said
+to himself that the day when the dreamt-of fortune came would be more
+welcome if there were an heir to whom to leave it. What was the good
+of being rich, if the money went to collateral relatives? There was
+his nephew Savinien, a disagreeable urchin whom he looked on with
+indifference; and he was biased regarding his brother, who had all but
+failed several times in business, and to whose aid he had come to save
+the honor of the name. The mistress had not hesitated to help him, and
+had prevented the signature of "Desvarennes" being protested. She had
+not taunted him, having as large a heart as she had a mind. But Michel
+had felt humiliated to see his own folk make a gap in the financial
+edifice erected so laboriously by his wife. Out of this had gradually
+sprung a sense of dissatisfaction with the Desvarennes of the other
+branch, which manifested itself by a marked coolness, when, by chance,
+his brother came to the house, accompanied by his son Savinien.
+
+And then the paternity of his brother made him secretly jealous. Why
+should that incapable fellow, who succeeded in nothing, have a son? It
+was only those ne'er-do-well sort of people who were thus favored. He,
+Michel, already called the rich Desvarennes, he had not a son. Was it
+just? But where is there justice in this world?
+
+The first time that she saw him with a downcast face the mistress had
+questioned him, and he had frankly expressed his regrets. But he had
+been so repelled by his wife, in whose heart a great trouble, steadily
+repressed, however, had been produced, that he never dared to recur to
+the subject.
+
+He suffered in silence. But he no longer suffered alone. Like an
+overflowing river that finds an outlet in the valley, which it
+inundates, the longings for maternity, hitherto repressed by the
+preoccupations of business, had suddenly seized Madame Desvarennes.
+
+Strong and unyielding, she struggled and would not own herself
+conquered. Still she became sad. Her voice sounded less sonorously
+in the offices where she gave an order; her energetic nature seemed
+subdued. Now she looked around her. She beheld prosperity made stable by
+incessant work, respect gained by spotless honesty; she had attained the
+goal which she had marked out in her ambitious dreams, as being paradise
+itself. Paradise was there; but it lacked the angel. They had no child.
+
+From that day a change came over this woman, slowly but surely; scarcely
+perceptible to strangers, but easy to be seen by those around her. She
+became benevolent, and gave away considerable sums of money, especially
+to children's "Homes." But when the good people who governed these
+establishments, lured on by her generosity, came to ask her to be on
+their committee of management, she became angry, asking them if they
+were joking with her? What interest could those brats have for her? She
+had other fish to fry. She gave them what they needed, and what
+more could they want? The fact was she felt weak and troubled before
+children. But within her a powerful and unknown voice had arisen, and
+the hour was not far distant when the bitter wave of her regrets was to
+overflow and be made manifest.
+
+She did not like Savinien, her nephew, and kept all her sweetness for
+the son of one of their old neighbors in the Rue Neuve-Coquenard, a
+small haberdasher, who had not been able to get on, but continued humbly
+to sell thread and needles to the thrifty folks of the neighborhood.
+The haberdasher, Mother Delarue, as she was called, had remained a widow
+after one year of married life. Pierre, her boy, had grown up under the
+shadow of the bakery, the cradle of the Desvarennes's fortunes.
+
+On Sundays the mistress would give him a gingerbread or a cracknel, and
+amuse herself with his baby prattle. She did not lose sight of him
+when she removed to the Rue Vivienne. Pierre had entered the elementary
+school of the neighborhood, and by his precocious intelligence and
+exceptional application, had not been long in getting to the top of his
+class. The boy had left school after gaining an exhibition admitting
+him to the Chaptal College. This hard worker, who was in a fair way of
+making his own position without costing his relatives anything, greatly
+interested Madame Desvarennes. She found in this plucky nature a
+striking analogy to herself. She formed projects for Pierre's future;
+in fancy she saw him enter the Polytechnic school, and leave it with
+honors. The young man had the choice of becoming a mining or civil
+engineer, and of entering the government service.
+
+He was hesitating what to do when the mistress came and offered him a
+situation in her firm as junior partner; it was a golden bridge that she
+placed before him. With his exceptional capacities he was not long
+in giving to the house a new impulse. He perfected the machinery, and
+triumphantly defied all competition. All this was a happy dream in which
+Pierre was to her a real son; her home became his, and she monopolized
+him completely. But suddenly a shadow came o'er the spirit of her
+dreams. Pierre's mother, the little haberdasher, proud of her son, would
+she consent to give him up to a stranger? Oh! if Pierre had only been
+an orphan! But one could not rob a mother of her son! And Madame
+Desvarennes stopped the flight of her imagination. She followed Pierre
+with anxious looks; but she forbade herself to dispose of the youth: he
+did not belong to her.
+
+This woman, at the age of thirty-five, still young in heart, was
+disturbed by feelings which she strove, but vainly, to rule. She hid
+them especially from her husband, whose repining chattering she feared.
+If she had once shown him her weakness he would have overwhelmed her
+daily with the burden of his regrets. But an unforeseen circumstance
+placed her at Michel's mercy.
+
+Winter had come, bringing December and its snow. The weather this
+year was exceptionally inclement, and traffic in the streets was so
+difficult, business was almost suspended. The mistress left her deserted
+offices and retired early to her private apartments. The husband and
+wife spent their evenings alone. They sat there, facing each other, at
+the fireside. A shade concentrated the light of the lamp upon the table
+covered with expensive knick-knacks. The ceiling was sometimes vaguely
+lighted up by a glimmer from the stove which glittered on the gilt
+cornices. Ensconced in deep comfortable armchairs, the pair respectively
+caressed their favorite dream without speaking of it.
+
+Madame Desvarennes saw beside her a little pink-and-white baby girl,
+toddling on the carpet. She heard her words, understood her language,
+untranslatable to all others than a mother. Then bedtime came. The
+child, with heavy eyelids, let her little fair-haired head fall on her
+shoulders. Madame Desvarennes took her in her arms and undressed her
+quietly, kissing her bare and dimpled arms. It was exquisite enjoyment
+which stirred her heart deliciously. She saw the cradle, and devoured
+the child with her eyes. She knew that the picture was a myth. But
+what did it matter to her? She was happy. Michel's voice broke on her
+reverie.
+
+"Wife," said he, "this is Christmas Eve; and as there are only us two,
+suppose you put your slipper on the hearth."
+
+Madame Desvarennes rose. Her eyes vaguely turned toward the hearth on
+which the fire was dying, and beside the upright of the large sculptured
+mantelpiece she beheld for a moment a tiny shoe, belonging to the child
+which she loved to see in her dreams. Then the vision vanished, and
+there was nothing left but the lonely hearth. A sharp pain tore her
+swollen heart; a sob rose to her lips, and, slowly, two tears rolled
+down her cheeks. Michel, quite pale, looked at her in silence; he held
+out his hand to her, and said, in a trembling voice:
+
+"You were thinking about it, eh?"
+
+Madame Desvarennes bowed her head, twice, silently, and without adding
+another word, the pair fell into each other's arms and wept.
+
+From that day they hid nothing from each other, and shared their
+troubles and regrets in common. The mistress unburdened her heart by
+making a full confession, and Michel, for the first time in his life,
+learned the depth of soul of his companion to its inmost recesses. This
+woman, so energetic, so obstinate, was, as it were, broken down.
+The springs of her will seemed worn out. She felt despondencies and
+wearinesses until then unknown. Work tired her. She did not venture down
+to the offices; she talked of giving up business, which was a bad sign.
+She longed for country air. Were they not rich enough? With their simple
+tastes so much money was unnecessary. In fact, they had no wants. They
+would go to some pretty estate in the suburbs of Paris, live there and
+plant cabbages. Why work? they had no children.
+
+Michel agreed to these schemes. For a long time he had wished for
+repose. Often he had feared that his wife's ambition would lead them too
+far. But now, since she stopped of her own accord, it was all for the
+best.
+
+At this juncture their solicitor informed them that, near to their
+works, the Cernay estate was to be put up for sale. Very often, when
+going from Jouy to the mills, Madame Desvarennes had noticed the
+chateau, the slate roofs of the turrets of which rose gracefully from a
+mass of deep verdure. The Count de Cernay, the last representative of a
+noble race, had just died of consumption, brought on by reckless living,
+leaving nothing behind him but debts and a little girl two years old.
+Her mother, an Italian singer and his mistress, had left him one morning
+without troubling herself about the child. Everything was to be sold, by
+order of the Court.
+
+Some most lamentable incidents had saddened the Count's last hours. The
+bailiffs had entered the house with the doctor when he came to pay his
+last call, and the notices of the sale were all but posted up before the
+funeral was over. Jeanne, the orphan, scared amid the troubles of this
+wretched end, seeing unknown men walking into the reception-rooms with
+their hats on, hearing strangers speaking loudly and with arrogance, had
+taken refuge in the laundry. It was there that Madame Desvarennes found
+her, playing, plainly dressed in a little alpaca frock, her pretty hair
+loose and falling on her shoulders. She looked astonished at what she
+had seen; silent, not daring to run or sing as formerly in the great
+desolate house whence the master had just been taken away forever.
+
+With the vague instinct of abandoned children who seek to attach
+themselves to some one or some thing, Jeanne clung to Madame
+Desvarennes, who, ready to protect, and longing for maternity, took the
+child in her arms. The gardener's wife acted as guide during her visit
+over the property. Madame Desvarennes questioned her. She knew nothing
+of the child except what she had heard from the servants when they
+gossiped in the evenings about their late master. They said Jeanne was
+a bastard. Of her relatives they knew nothing. The Count had an aunt in
+England who was married to a rich lord; but he had not corresponded with
+her lately. The little one then was reduced to beggary as the estate was
+to be sold.
+
+The gardener's wife was a good woman and was willing to keep the child
+until the new proprietor came; but when once affairs were settled, she
+would certainly go and make a declaration to the mayor, and take her to
+the workhouse. Madame Desvarennes listened in silence. One word only had
+struck her while the woman was speaking. The child was without support,
+without ties, and abandoned like a poor lost dog. The little one was
+pretty too; and when she fixed her large deep eyes on that improvised
+mother, who pressed her so tenderly to her heart, she seemed to implore
+her not to put her down, and to carry her away from the mourning that
+troubled her mind and the isolation that froze her heart.
+
+Madame Desvarennes, very superstitious, like a woman of the people,
+began to think that, perhaps, Providence had brought her to Cernay that
+day and had placed the child in her path. It was perhaps a reparation
+which heaven granted her, in giving her the little girl she so longed
+for. Acting unhesitatingly, as she did in everything, she left her name
+with the woman, carried Jeanne to her carriage, and took her to Paris,
+promising herself to make inquiries to find her relatives.
+
+A month later, the property of Cernay pleasing her, and the researches
+for Jeanne's friends not proving successful, Madame Desvarennes took
+possession of the estate and the child into the bargain.
+
+Michel welcomed the child without enthusiasm. The little stranger was
+indifferent to him; he would have preferred adopting a boy. The mistress
+was delighted. Her maternal instincts, so long stifled, developed fully.
+She made plans for the future. Her energy returned; she spoke loudly and
+firmly. But in her appearance there was revealed an inward contentment
+never remarked before, which made her sweeter and more benevolent. She
+no longer spoke of retiring from business. The discouragement which had
+seized her left her as if by magic. The house which had been so dull
+for some months became noisy and gay. The child, like a sunbeam, had
+scattered the clouds.
+
+It was then that the most unlooked-for phenomenon, which was so
+considerably to influence Madame Desvarennes's life, occurred. At the
+moment when the mistress seemed provided by chance with the heiress so
+much longed for, she learned with surprise that she was about to become
+a mother! After sixteen years of married life, this discovery was almost
+a discomfiture. What would have been delight formerly was now a cause
+for fear. She, almost an old woman!
+
+There was an incredible commotion in the business world when the news
+became known. The younger branch of Desvarennes had witnessed Jeanne's
+arrival with little satisfaction, and were still more gloomy when they
+learned that the chances of their succeeding to great wealth were over.
+Still they did not lose all hopes. At thirty-five years of age one
+cannot always tell how these little affairs will come off. An accident
+was possible. But none occurred; all passed off well.
+
+Madame Desvarennes was as strong physically as she was morally, and
+proved victorious by bringing into the world a little girl, who was
+named Micheline in honor of her father. The mistress's heart was large
+enough to hold two children; she kept the orphan she had adopted, and
+brought her up as if she had been her very own. Still there was soon an
+enormous difference in her manner of loving Jeanne and Micheline. This
+mother had for the long-wished-for child an ardent, mad, passionate love
+like that of a tigress for her cubs. She had never loved her husband.
+All the tenderness which had accumulated in her heart blossomed, and it
+was like spring.
+
+This autocrat, who had never allowed contradiction, and before whom all
+her dependents bowed either with or against the grain, was now led in
+her turn; the bronze of her character became like wax in the little pink
+hands of her daughter. The commanding woman bent before the little fair
+head. There was nothing good enough for Micheline. Had the mother owned
+the world she would have placed it at the little one's feet. One tear
+from the child upset her. If on one of the most important subjects
+Madame Desvarennes had said "No," and Micheline came and said "Yes,"
+the hitherto resolute will became subordinate to the caprice of a child.
+They knew it in the house and acted upon it. This manoeuvre succeeded
+each time, although Madame Desvarennes had seen through it from the
+first. It appeared as if the mother felt a secret joy in proving
+under all circumstances the unbounded adoration which she felt for her
+daughter. She often said:
+
+"Pretty as she is, and rich as I shall make her, what husband will be
+worthy of Micheline? But if she believes me when it is time to choose
+one, she will prefer a man remarkable for his intelligence, and will
+give him her fortune as a stepping-stone to raise him as high as she
+chooses him to go."
+
+Inwardly she was thinking of Pierre Delarue, who had just taken honors
+at the Polytechnic school, and who seemed to have a brilliant career
+before him. This woman, humbly born, was proud of her origin, and
+sought a plebeian for her son-in-law, to put into his hand a golden tool
+powerful enough to move the world.
+
+Micheline was ten years old when her father died. Alas, Michel was not a
+great loss. They wore mourning for him; but they hardly noticed that he
+was absent. His whole life had been a void. Madame Desvarennes, it
+is sad to say, felt herself more mistress of her child when she was
+a widow. She was jealous of Micheline's affections, and each kiss the
+child gave her father seemed to the mother to be robbed from her. With
+this fierce tenderness, she preferred solitude around this beloved
+being.
+
+At this time Madame Desvarennes was really in the zenith of womanly
+splendor. She seemed taller, her figure had straightened, vigorous and
+powerful. Her gray hair gave her face a majestic appearance. Always
+surrounded by a court of clients and friends, she seemed like a
+sovereign. The fortune of the firm was not to be computed. It was said
+Madame Desvarennes did not know how rich she was.
+
+Jeanne and Micheline grew up amid this colossal prosperity. The one,
+tall, brown-haired, with blue eyes changing like the sea; the other,
+fragile, fair, with dark dreamy eyes. Jeanne, proud, capricious, and
+inconstant; Micheline, simple, sweet, and tenacious. The brunette
+inherited from her reckless father and her fanciful mother a violent and
+passionate nature; the blonde was tractable and good like Michel, but
+resolute and firm like Madame Desvarennes. These two opposite natures
+were congenial, Micheline sincerely loving Jeanne, and Jeanne feeling
+the necessity of living amicably with Micheline, her mother's idol,
+but inwardly enduring with difficulty the inequalities which began to
+exhibit themselves in the manner with which the intimates of the house
+treated the one and the other. She found these flatteries wounding, and
+thought Madame Desvarennes's preferences for Micheline unjust.
+
+All these accumulated grievances made Jeanne conceive the wish one
+morning of leaving the house where she had been brought up, and where
+she now felt humiliated. Pretending to long to go to England to see
+that rich relative of her father, who, knowing her to be in a brilliant
+society, had taken notice of her, she asked Madame Desvarennes to allow
+her to spend a few weeks from home. She wished to try the ground in
+England, and see what she might expect in the future from her family.
+Madame Desvarennes lent herself to this whim, not guessing the young
+girl's real motive; and Jeanne, well attended, went to her aunt's home
+in England.
+
+Madame Desvarennes, besides, had attained the summit of her hopes,
+and an event had just taken place which preoccupied her. Micheline,
+deferring to her mother's wishes, had decided to allow herself to be
+betrothed to Pierre Delarue, who had just lost his mother, and whose
+business improved daily. The young girl, accustomed to treat Pierre like
+a brother, had easily consented to accept him as her future husband.
+
+Jeanne, who had been away for six months, had returned sobered and
+disillusioned about her family. She had found them kind and affable, had
+received many compliments on her beauty, which was really remarkable,
+but had not met with any encouragement in her desires for independence.
+She came home resolved not to leave until she married. She arrived in
+the Rue Saint-Dominique at the moment when Pierre Delarue, thirsting
+with ambition, was leaving his betrothed, his relatives, and gay Paris
+to undertake engineering work on the coasts of Algeria and Tunis that
+would raise him above his rivals. In leaving, the young man did not for
+a moment think that Jeanne was returning from England at the same hour
+with trouble for him in the person of a very handsome cavalier, Prince
+Serge Panine, who had been introduced to her at a ball during the London
+season. Mademoiselle de Cernay, availing herself of English liberty,
+was returning escorted only by a maid in company with the Prince. The
+journey had been delightful. The tete-a-tete travelling had pleased the
+young people, and on leaving the train they had promised to see each
+other again. Official balls facilitated their meeting; Serge was
+introduced to Madame Desvarennes as being an English friend, and soon
+became the most assiduous partner of Jeanne and Micheline. It was thus,
+under the most trivial pretext, that the man gained admittance to the
+house where he was to play such an important part.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II. THE GALLEY-SLAVE OF PLEASURE
+
+One morning in the month of May, 1879, a young man, elegantly attired,
+alighted from a well-appointed carriage before the door of Madame
+Desvarennes's house. The young man passed quickly before the porter in
+uniform, decorated with a military medal, stationed near the door. The
+visitor found himself in an anteroom which communicated with several
+corridors. A messenger was seated in the depth of a large armchair,
+reading the newspaper, and not even lending an inattentive ear to
+the whispered conversation of a dozen canvassers, who were patiently
+awaiting their turn for gaining a hearing. On seeing the young man enter
+by the private door, the messenger rose, dropped his newspaper on the
+armchair, hastily raised his velvet skullcap, tried to smile, and made
+two steps forward.
+
+"Good-morning, old Felix," said the young man, in a friendly tone to the
+messenger. "Is my aunt within?"
+
+"Yes, Monsieur Savinien, Madame Desvarennes is in her office; but she
+has been engaged for more than an hour with the Financial Secretary of
+the War Department."
+
+In uttering these words old Felix put on a mysterious and important air,
+which denoted how serious the discussions going on in the adjoining room
+seemed to his mind.
+
+"You see," continued he, showing Madame Desvarennes's nephew the
+anteroom full of people, "madame has kept all these waiting since this
+morning, and perhaps she won't see them."
+
+"I must see her though," murmured the young man.
+
+He reflected a moment, then added:
+
+"Is Monsieur Marechal in?"
+
+"Yes, sir, certainly. If you will allow me I will announce you."
+
+"It is unnecessary."
+
+And, stepping forward, he entered the office adjoining that of Madame
+Desvarennes.
+
+Seated at a large table of black wood, covered with bundles of papers
+and notes, a young man was working. He was thirty years of age, but
+appeared much older. His prematurely bald forehead, and wrinkled brow,
+betokened a life of severe struggles and privations, or a life of
+excesses and pleasures. Still those clear and pure eyes were not those
+of a libertine, and the straight nose solidly joined to the face was
+that of a searcher. Whatever the cause, the man was old before his time.
+
+On hearing the door of his office open, he raised his eyes, put down
+his pen, and was making a movement toward his visitor, when the latter
+interrupted him quickly with these words:
+
+"Don't stir, Marechal, or I shall be off! I only came in until Aunt
+Desvarennes is at liberty; but if I disturb you I will go and take a
+turn, smoke a cigar, and come back in three quarters of an hour."
+
+"You do not disturb me, Monsieur Savinien; at least not often enough,
+for be it said, without reproaching you, it is more than three months
+since we have seen anything of you. There, the post is finished. I was
+writing the last addresses."
+
+And taking a heavy bundle of papers off the desk, Marechal showed them
+to Savinien.
+
+"Gracious! It seems that business is going on well here."
+
+"Better and better."
+
+"You are making mountains of flour."
+
+"Yes; high as Mont Blanc; and then, we now have a fleet."
+
+"What! a fleet?" cried Savinien, whose face expressed doubt and surprise
+at the same time.
+
+"Yes, a steam fleet. Last year Madame Desvarennes was not satisfied with
+the state in which her corn came from the East. The corn was damaged
+owing to defective stowage; the firm claimed compensation from the
+steamship company. The claim was only moderately satisfied, Madame
+Desvarennes got vexed, and now we import our own. We have branches at
+Smyrna and Odessa."
+
+"It is fabulous! If it goes on, my aunt will have an administration
+as important as that of a European state. Oh! you are happy here, you
+people; you are busy. I amuse myself! And if you knew how it wearies me!
+I am withering, consuming myself, I am longing for business."
+
+And saying these words, young Monsieur Desvarennes allowed a sorrowful
+moan to escape him.
+
+"It seems to me," said Marechal, "that it only depends upon yourself to
+do as much and more business than any one?"
+
+"You know well enough that it is not so," sighed Savinien; "my aunt is
+opposed to it."
+
+"What a mistake!" cried Marechal, quickly. "I have heard Madame
+Desvarennes say more than twenty times how she regretted your being
+unemployed. Come into the firm, you will have a good berth in the
+counting-house."
+
+"In the counting-house!" cried Savinien, bitterly; "there's the sore
+point. Now look here; my friend, do you think that an organization like
+mine is made to bend to the trivialities of a copying clerk's work? To
+follow the humdrum of every-day routine? To blacken paper? To become a
+servant?--me! with what I have in my brain?"
+
+And, rising abruptly, Savinien began to walk hurriedly up and down the
+room, disdainfully shaking his little head with its low forehead on
+which were plastered a few fair curls (made with curling-irons), with
+the indignant air of an Atlas carrying the world on his shoulders.
+
+"Oh, I know very well what is at the bottom of the business--my aunt is
+jealous of me because I am a man of ideas. She wishes to be the only
+one of the family who possesses any. She thinks of binding me down to a
+besotting work," continued he, "but I won't have it. I know what I
+want! It is independence of thought, bent on the solution of great
+problems--that is, a wide field to apply my discoveries. But a fixed
+rule, common law, I could not submit to it."
+
+"It is like the examinations," observed Marechal, looking slyly at
+young Desvarennes, who was drawing himself up to his full height;
+"examinations never suited you."
+
+"Never," said Savinien, energetically. "They wished to get me into the
+Polytechnic School; impossible! Then the Central School; no better. I
+astonished the examiners by the novelty of my ideas. They refused me."
+
+"Well, you know," retorted Marechal, "if you began by overthrowing their
+theories--"
+
+"That's it!" cried Savinien, triumphantly. "My mind is stronger than I;
+I must let my imagination have free run, and no one will ever know what
+that particular turn of mind has cost me. Even my family do not think
+me serious. Aunt Desvarennes has forbidden any kind of enterprise, under
+pretence that I bear her name, and that I might compromise it because I
+have twice failed. My aunt paid, it is true. Do you think it is generous
+of her to take advantage of my situation, and prohibit my trying to
+succeed? Are inventors judged by three or four failures? If my aunt had
+allowed me I should have astonished the world."
+
+"She feared, above all," said Marechal, simply, "to see you astonishing
+the Tribunal of Commerce."
+
+"Oh! you, too," moaned Savinien, "are in league with my enemies; you
+make no account of me."
+
+And young Desvarennes sank as if crushed into an armchair and began to
+lament. He was very unhappy at being misunderstood. His aunt allowed him
+three thousand francs a month on condition that he would not make use of
+his ten fingers. Was it moral? Then he with such exuberant vigor had to
+waste it on pleasure and seeing life to the utmost. He passed his time
+in theatres, at clubs, restaurants, in boudoirs. He lost his time, his
+money, his hair, his illusions. He bemoaned his lot, but continued,
+only to have something to do. With grim sarcasm he called himself
+the galley-slave of pleasure. And notwithstanding all these consuming
+excesses, he asserted that he could not render his imagination barren.
+Amid the greatest follies at suppers, during the clinking of glasses; in
+the excitement of the dance-inspirations came to him in flashes, he made
+prodigious discoveries.
+
+And as Marechal ventured a timid "Oh!" tinged with incredulity, Savinien
+flew into a passion. Yes; he had invented something astonishing; he saw
+fortune within reach, and he thought the bargain made with his aunt very
+unjust. Therefore he had come to break it, and to regain his liberty.
+
+Marechal looked at the young man while he was explaining with animation
+his ambitious projects. He scrutinized that flat forehead within which
+the dandy asserted so many good ideas were hidden. He measured that slim
+form bent by wild living, and asked himself how that degenerate being
+could struggle against the difficulties of business. A smile played on
+his lips. He knew Savinien too well not to be aware that he was a prey
+to one of those attacks of melancholy which seized on him when his funds
+were low.
+
+On these occasions, which occurred frequently, the young man had
+longings for business, which Madame Desvarennes stopped by asking: "How
+much?" Savinien allowed himself to be with difficulty induced to consent
+to renounce the certain profits promised, as he said, by his projected
+enterprise. At last he would capitulate, and with his pocket well
+lined, nimble and joyful, he returned to his boudoirs, race-courses,
+fashionable restaurants, and became more than ever the galley-slave of
+pleasure.
+
+"And Pierre?" asked young Desvarennes, suddenly and quickly changing the
+subject. "Have you any news of him?"
+
+Marechal became serious. A cloud seemed to have come across his brow; he
+gravely answered Savinien's question.
+
+Pierre was still in the East. He was travelling toward Tunis, the coast
+of which he was exploring. It was a question of the formation of
+an inland sea by taking the water through the desert. It would be a
+colossal undertaking, the results of which would be considerable as
+regarded Algeria. The climate would be completely changed, and the value
+of the colony would be increased tenfold, because it would become the
+most fertile country in the world. Pierre had been occupied in this
+undertaking for more than a year with unequalled ardor; he was far from
+his home, his betrothed, seeing only the goal to be attained; turning a
+deaf ear to all that would distract his attention from the great work,
+to the success of which he hoped to contribute gloriously.
+
+"And don't people say," resumed Savinien with an evil smile, "that
+during his absence a dashing young fellow is busy luring his betrothed
+away from him?"
+
+At these words Marechal made a quick movement.
+
+"It is false," he interrupted; "and I do not understand how you,
+Monsieur Desvarennes, should be the bearer of such a tale. To admit that
+Mademoiselle Micheline could break her word or her engagements is to
+slander her, and if any one other than you--"
+
+"There, there, my dear friend," said Savinien, laughing, "don't get
+into a rage. What I say to you I would not repeat to the first comer;
+besides, I am only the echo of a rumor that has been going the round
+during the last three weeks. They even give the name of him who has been
+chosen for the honor and pleasure of such a brilliant conquest. I mean
+Prince Serge Panine."
+
+"As you have mentioned Prince Panine," replied Marechal, "allow me to
+tell you that he has not put his foot inside Madame Desvarennes's
+door for three weeks. This is not the way of a man about to marry the
+daughter of the house."
+
+"My dear fellow, I only repeat what I have heard. As for me, I don't
+know any more. I have kept out of the way for more than three months.
+And besides, it matters little to me whether Micheline be a commoner or
+a princess, the wife of Delarue or of Panine. I shall be none the richer
+or the poorer, shall I? Therefore I need not care. The dear child will
+certainly have millions enough to marry easily. And her adopted sister,
+the stately Mademoiselle Jeanne, what has become of her?"
+
+"Ah! as to Mademoiselle de Cernay, that is another affair," cried
+Marechal.
+
+And as if wishing to divert the conversation in an opposite direction
+to which Savinien had led it a moment before, he spoke readily of Madame
+Desvarennes's adopted daughter. She had made a lively impression on one
+of the intimate friends of the house--the banker Cayrol, who had offered
+his name and his fortune to the fair Jeanne.
+
+This was a cause of deep amazement to Savinien. What! Cayrol! The shrewd
+close--fisted Auvergnat! A girl without a fortune! Cayrol Silex as he
+was called in the commercial world on account of his hardness. This
+living money-bag had a heart then! It was necessary to believe it since
+both money-bag and heart had been placed at Mademoiselle de Cernay's
+feet. This strange girl was certainly destined to millions. She had just
+missed being Madame Desvarennes's heiress, and now Cayrol had taken it
+into his head to marry her.
+
+But that was not all. And when Marechal told Savinien that the fair
+Jeanne flatly refused to become the wife of Cayrol, there was an
+outburst of joyful exclamations. She refused! By Jove, she was mad! An
+unlooked-for marriage--for she had not a penny, and had most extravagant
+notions. She had been brought up as if she were to live always in velvet
+and silks--to loll in carriages and think only of her pleasure. What
+reason did she give for refusing him! None. Haughtily and disdainfully
+she had declared that she did not love "that man," and that she would
+not marry him.
+
+When Savinien heard these details his rapture increased. One thing
+especially charmed him: Jeanne's saying "that man," when speaking of
+Cayrol. A little girl who was called "De Cernay" just as he might call
+himself "Des Batignolles" if he pleased: the natural and unacknowledged
+daughter of a Count and of a shady public singer! And she refused
+Cayrol, calling him "that man." It was really funny. And what did worthy
+Cayrol say about it?
+
+When Marechal declared that the banker had not been damped by this
+discouraging reception, Savinien said it was human nature. The fair
+Jeanne scorned Cayrol and Cayrol adored her. He had often seen those
+things happen. He knew the baggages so well! Nobody knew more of women
+than he did. He had known some more difficult to manage than proud
+Mademoiselle Jeanne.
+
+An old leaven of hatred had festered in Savinien's heart against Jeanne
+since the time when the younger branch of the Desvarennes had reason
+to fear that the superb heritage was going to the adopted daughter.
+Savinien had lost the fear, but had kept up the animosity. And
+everything that could happen to Jeanne of a vexing or painful nature
+would be witnessed by him with pleasure.
+
+He was about to encourage Marechal to continue his revelations, and had
+risen and was leaning on the desk. With his face excited and eager, he
+was preparing his question, when, through the door which led to Madame
+Desvarennes's office, a confused murmur of voices was heard. At the
+same time the door was half opened, held by a woman's hand, square, with
+short fingers, a firm-willed and energetic hand. At the same time,
+the last words exchanged between Madame Desvarennes and the Financial
+Secretary of the War Office were distinctly audible. Madame Desvarennes
+was speaking, and her voice sounded clear and plain; a little raised and
+vibrating. There seemed a shade of anger in its tone.
+
+"My dear sir, you will tell the Minister that does not suit me. It is
+not the custom of the house. For thirty-five years I have conducted
+business thus, and I have always found it answer. I wish you
+good-morning."
+
+The door of the office facing that which Madame Desvarennes held
+closed, and a light step glided along the corridor. It was the Financial
+Secretary's. The mistress appeared.
+
+Marechal rose hastily. As to Savinien, all his resolution seemed to have
+vanished at the sound of his aunt's voice, for he had rapidly gained a
+corner of the room, and seated himself on a leather-covered sofa, hidden
+behind an armchair, where he remained perfectly quiet.
+
+"Do you understand that, Marechal?" said dame Desvarennes; "they want to
+place a resident agent at the mill on pretext of checking things. They
+say that all military contractors are obliged to submit to it. My word,
+do they take us for thieves, the rascals? It is the first time that
+people have seemed to doubt me. And it has enraged me. I have been
+arguing for a whole hour with the man they sent me. I said to him, 'My
+dear sir, you may either take it or leave it. Let us start from this
+point: I can do without you and you cannot do without me. If you don't
+buy my flour, somebody else will. I am not at all troubled about it.
+But as to having any one here who would be as much master as myself, or
+perhaps more, never! I am too old to change my customs.' Thereupon
+the Financial Secretary left. There! And, besides, they change their
+Ministry every fortnight. One would never know with whom one had to
+deal. Thank you, no."
+
+While talking thus with Marechal, Madame Desvarennes was walking about
+the office. She was still the same woman with the broad prominent
+forehead. Her hair, which she wore in smooth plaits, had become gray,
+but the sparkle of her dark eyes only seemed the brighter from this. She
+had preserved her splendid teeth, and her smile had remained young and
+charming. She spoke with animation, as usual, and with the gestures of
+a man. She placed herself before her secretary, seeming to appeal to
+him as a witness of her being in the right. During the hour with
+the official personage she had been obliged to contain herself. She
+unburdened herself to Marechal, saying just what she thought.
+
+But all at once she perceived Savinien, who was waiting to show himself
+now that she had finished. The mistress turned sharply to the young man,
+and frowned slightly:
+
+"Hallo! you are there, eh? How is it that you could leave your fair
+friends?"
+
+"But, aunt, I came to pay you my respects."
+
+"No nonsense now; I've no time," interrupted the mistress. "What do you
+want?"
+
+Savinien, disconcerted by this rude reception, blinked his eyes, as
+if seeking some form to give his request; then, making up his mind, he
+said:
+
+"I came to see you on business."
+
+"You on business?" replied Madame Desvarennes, with a shade of
+astonishment and irony.
+
+"Yes, aunt, on business," declared Savinien, looking down as if he
+expected a rebuff.
+
+"Oh, oh, oh!" said Madame Desvarennes, "you know our agreement; I give
+you an allowance--"
+
+"I renounce my income," interrupted Savinien, quickly, "I wish to take
+back my independence. The transfer I made has already cost me too dear.
+It's a fool's bargain. The enterprise which I am going to launch is
+superb, and must realize immense profits. I shall certainly not abandon
+it."
+
+While speaking, Savinien had become animated and had regained his
+self-possession. He believed in his scheme, and was ready to pledge his
+future. He argued that his aunt could not blame him for giving proof of
+his energy and daring, and he discoursed in bombastic style.
+
+"That's enough!" cried Madame Desvarennes, interrupting her nephew's
+oration. "I am very fond of mills, but not word-mills. You are talking
+too much about it to be sincere. So many words can only serve
+to disguise the nullity of your projects. You want to embark in
+speculation? With what money?"
+
+"I contribute the scheme and some capitalists will advance the money to
+start with; we shall then issue shares!"
+
+"Never in this life! I oppose it. You! With a responsibility. You!
+Directing an undertaking. You would only commit absurdities. In fact,
+you want to sell an idea, eh? Well, I will buy it."
+
+"It is not only the money I want," said Savinien, with an indignant
+air, "it is confidence in my ideas, it is enthusiasm on the part of my
+shareholders, it is success. You don't believe in my ideas, aunt!"
+
+"What does it matter to you, if I buy them from you? It seems to me a
+pretty good proof of confidence. Is that settled?"
+
+"Ah, aunt, you are implacable!" groaned Savinien. "When you have laid
+your hand upon any one, it is all over. Adieu, independence; one must
+obey you. Nevertheless, it was a vast and beautiful conception."
+
+"Very well. Marechal, see that my nephew has ten thousand francs. And
+you, Savinien, remember that I see no more of you."
+
+"Until the money is spent!" murmured Marechal, in the ear of Madame
+Desvarennes's nephew.
+
+And taking him by the arm he was leading him toward the safe when the
+mistress turned to Savinien and said:
+
+"By the way, what is your invention?"
+
+"Aunt, it is a threshing machine," answered the young man, gravely.
+
+"Rather a machine for coining money," said the incorrigible Marechal, in
+an undertone.
+
+"Well; bring me your plans," resumed Madame Desvarennes, after having
+reflected a moment. "Perchance you may have hit upon something."
+
+The mistress had been generous, and now the woman of business reasserted
+herself and she thought of reaping the benefit.
+
+Savinien seemed very confused at this demand, and as his aunt gave him
+an interrogative look, he confessed:
+
+"There are no drawings made as yet."
+
+"No drawings as yet?" cried the mistress. "Where then is your
+invention?"
+
+"It is here," replied Savinien, and with an inspired gesture he struck
+his narrow forehead.
+
+Madame Desvarennes and Marechal could not resist breaking out into a
+laugh.
+
+"And you were already talking of issuing shares?" said the mistress.
+"Do you think people would have paid their money with your brain as sole
+guarantee? You! Get along; I am the only one to make bargains like that,
+and you are the only one with whom I make them. Go, Marechal, give him
+his money; I won't gainsay it. But you are a trickster, as usual!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III. PIERRE RETURNS
+
+By a wave of her hand she dismissed Savinien, who, abashed, went out
+with Marechal. Left alone, she seated herself at her secretary's desk,
+and taking the pile of letters she signed them. The pen flew in her
+fingers, and on the paper was displayed her name, written in large
+letters in a man's handwriting.
+
+She had been occupied thus for about a quarter of an hour when Marechal
+reappeared. Behind him came a stout thickset man of heavy build, and
+gorgeously dressed. His face, surrounded by a bristly dark brown beard,
+and his eyes overhung by bushy eyebrows, gave him, at the first glance,
+a harsh appearance. But his mouth promptly banished this impression. His
+thick and sensual lips betrayed voluptuous tastes. A disciple of Lavater
+or Gall would have found the bump of amativeness largely developed.
+
+Marechal stepped aside to allow him to pass.
+
+"Good-morning, mistress," said he familiarly, approaching Madame
+Desvarennes.
+
+The mistress raised her head quickly, and said:
+
+"Ah! it's you, Cayrol! That's capital! I was just going to send for
+you."
+
+Jean Cayrol, a native of Cantal, had been brought up amid the wild
+mountains of Auvergne. His father was a small farmer in the neighborhood
+of Saint-Flour, scraping a miserable pittance from the ground for the
+maintenance of his family. From the age of eight years Cayrol had been a
+shepherd-boy. Alone in the quiet and remote country, the child had given
+way to ambitious dreams. He was very intelligent, and felt that he was
+born to another sphere than that of farming.
+
+Thus, at the first opportunity which had occurred to take him into a
+town, he was found ready. He went as servant to a banker at Brioude.
+There, in the service of this comparatively luxurious house, he got
+smoothed down a little, and lost some of his clumsy loutishness. Strong
+as an ox, he did the work of two men, and at night, when in his garret,
+fell asleep learning to read. He was seized by the ambition to get on.
+No pains were to be spared to gain his goal.
+
+His master having been elected a member of the Chamber of Deputies,
+Cayrol accompanied him to Paris. Life in the capital finished the
+turmoil of Cayrol's brain. Seeing the prodigious activity of the great
+city on whose pavements fortunes sprang up in a day like mushrooms, the
+Auvergnat felt his moral strength equal to the occasion, and leaving his
+master, he became clerk to a merchant in the Rue du Sentier.
+
+There, for four years, he studied commerce, and gained much experience.
+He soon learned that it was only in financial transactions that large
+fortunes were to be rapidly made. He left the Rue du Sentier, and found
+a place at a stock-broker's. His keen scent for speculation served him
+admirably. After the lapse of a few years he had charge of the business.
+His position was getting better; he was making fifteen thousand francs
+per annum, but that was nothing compared to his dreams. He was then
+twenty-eight years of age. He felt ready to do anything to succeed,
+except something unhandsome, for this lover of money would have died
+rather than enrich himself by dishonest means.
+
+It was at this time that his lucky star threw him in Madame
+Desvarennes's way. The mistress, understanding men, guessed Cayrol's
+worth quickly. She was seeking a banker who would devote himself to her
+interests. She watched the young man narrowly for some time; then, sure
+she was not mistaken as to his capacity, she bluntly proposed to give
+him money to start a business. Cayrol, who had already saved eighty
+thousand francs, received twelve hundred thousand from Madame
+Desvarennes, and settled in the Rue Taitbout, two steps from the house
+of Rothschild.
+
+Madame Desvarennes had made a lucky hit in choosing Cayrol as her
+confidential agent. This short, thickset Auvergnat was a master of
+finance, and in a few years had raised the house to an unexpected
+degree of prosperity. Madame Desvarennes had drawn considerable sums
+as interest on the money lent, and the banker's fortune was already
+estimated at several millions. Was it the happy influence of Madame
+Desvarennes that changed everything she touched into gold, or were
+Cayrol's capacities really extraordinary? The results were there and
+that was sufficient. They did not trouble themselves over and above
+that.
+
+The banker had naturally become one of the intimates of Madame
+Desvarennes's house. For a long time he saw Jeanne without particularly
+noticing her. This young girl had not struck his fancy. It was one night
+at a ball, on seeing her dancing with Prince Panine, that he perceived
+that she was marvellously engaging. His eyes were attracted by an
+invincible power and followed her graceful figure whirling through the
+waltz. He secretly envied the brilliant cavalier who was holding this
+adorable creature in his arms, who was bending over her bare shoulders,
+and whose breath lightly touched her hair. He longed madly for Jeanne,
+and from that moment thought only of her.
+
+The Prince was then very friendly with Mademoiselle de Cernay; he
+overwhelmed her with kind attentions. Cayrol watched him to see if he
+spoke to her of love, but Panine was a past master in these drawing-room
+skirmishes, and the banker got nothing for his pains. That Cayrol
+was tenacious has been proved. He became intimate with the Prince. He
+tendered him such little services as create intimacy, and when he was
+sure of not being repulsed with haughtiness, he questioned Serge. Did he
+love Mademoiselle de Cernay? This question, asked in a trembling voice
+and with a constrained smile, found the Prince quite calm. He answered
+lightly that Mademoiselle de Cernay was a very agreeable partner, but
+that he had never dreamed of offering her his homage. He had other
+projects in his head. Cayrol pressed the Prince's hand violently, made a
+thousand protestations of devotedness, and finally obtained his complete
+confidence.
+
+Serge loved Mademoiselle Desvarennes, and it was to become intimate
+with her that he had so eagerly sought her friend's company. Cayrol, in
+learning the Prince's secret, resumed his usual reserved manner. He knew
+that Micheline was engaged to Pierre Delarue, but still, women were so
+whimsical! Who could tell? Perhaps Mademoiselle Desvarennes had looked
+favorably upon the handsome Serge.
+
+He was really admirable to view, this Panine, with his blue eyes, pure
+as a maiden's, and his long fair mustache falling on each side of his
+rosy mouth. He had a truly royal bearing, and was descended from an
+ancient aristocratic race; he had a charming hand and an arched foot,
+enough to make a woman envious. Soft and insinuating with his tender
+voice and sweet Sclavonic accent, he was no ordinary man, but one
+usually creating a great impression wherever he went.
+
+His story was well known in Paris. He was born in the province of Posen,
+so violently seized on by Prussia, that octopus of Europe. Serge's
+father had been killed during the insurrection of 1848, and he, when a
+year old, was brought by his uncle, Thaddeus Panine, to France, and
+was educated at the College Rollin, where he had not acquired over much
+learning.
+
+In 1866, at the moment when war broke out between Prussia and Austria,
+Serge was eighteen years old. By his uncle's orders he had left
+Paris, and had entered himself for the campaign in an Austrian cavalry
+regiment. All who bore the name of Panine, and had strength to hold a
+sword or carry a gun, had risen to fight the oppressor of Poland. Serge,
+during this short and bloody struggle, showed prodigies of valor. On the
+night of Sadowa, out of seven bearing the name of Panine, who had
+served against Prussia, five were dead, one was wounded; Serge alone
+was untouched, though red with the blood of his uncle Thaddeus, who was
+killed by the bursting of a shell. All these Panines, living or dead,
+had gained honors. When they were spoken of before Austrians or Poles,
+they were called heroes.
+
+Such a man was a dangerous companion for a young, simple, and
+artless girl like Micheline. His adventures were bound to please her
+imagination, and his beauty sure to charm her eyes. Cayrol was a prudent
+man; he watched, and it was not long before he perceived that Micheline
+treated the Prince with marked favor. The quiet young girl became
+animated when Serge was there. Was there love in this transformation?
+Cayrol did not hesitate. He guessed at once that the future would be
+Panine's, and that the maintenance of his own influence in the house
+of Desvarennes depended on the attitude which he was about to take.
+He passed over to the side of the newcomer with arms and baggage, and
+placed himself entirely at his disposal.
+
+It was he who three weeks before, in the name of Panine, had made
+overtures to Madame Desvarennes. The errand had been difficult, and the
+banker had turned his tongue several times in his mouth before speaking.
+Still, Cayrol could overcome all difficulties. He was able to explain
+the object of his mission without Madame flying into a passion. But, the
+explanation over, there was a terrible scene. He witnessed one of the
+most awful bursts of rage that it was possible to expect from a violent
+woman. The mistress treated the friend of the family as one would not
+have dared to treat a petty commercial traveller who came to a private
+house to offer his wares. She showed him the door, and desired him not
+to darken the threshold again.
+
+But if Cayrol was resolute he was equally patient. He listened
+without saying a word to the reproaches of Madame Desvarennes, who
+was exasperated that a candidate should be set up in opposition to the
+son-in-law of her choosing. He did not go, and when Madame Desvarennes
+was a little calmed by the letting out of her indignation, he argued
+with her. The mistress was too hasty about the business; it was no use
+deciding without reflecting. Certainly, nobody esteemed Pierre Delarue
+more than he did; but it was necessary to know whether Micheline loved
+him. A childish affection was not love, and Prince Panine thought he
+might hope that Mademoiselle Desvarennes----
+
+The mistress did not allow Cayrol to finish his sentence; she rang the
+bell and asked for her daughter. This time, Cayrol prudently took the
+opportunity of disappearing. He had opened fire; it was for Micheline
+to decide the result of the battle. The banker awaited the issue of the
+interview between mother and daughter in the next room. Through the door
+he heard the irritated tones of Madame Desvarennes, to which Micheline
+answered softly and slowly. The mother threatened and stormed. Coldly
+and quietly the daughter received the attack. The tussle lasted about an
+hour, when the door reopened and Madame Desvarennes appeared, pale and
+still trembling, but calmed. Micheline, wiping her beautiful eyes, still
+wet with tears, regained her apartment.
+
+"Well," said Cayrol timidly, seeing the mistress standing silent and
+absorbed before him; "I see with pleasure that you are less agitated.
+Did Mademoiselle Micheline give you good reasons?"
+
+"Good reasons!" cried Madame Desvarennes with a violent gesture, last
+flash of the late storm. "She cried, that's all. And you know when she
+cries I no longer know what I do or say! She breaks my heart with her
+tears. And she knows it. Ah! it is a great misfortune to love children
+too much!"
+
+This energetic woman was conquered, and yet understood that she was
+wrong to allow herself to be conquered. She fell into a deep reverie,
+and forgot that Cayrol was present. She thought of the future which she
+had planned for Micheline, and which the latter carelessly destroyed in
+an instant.
+
+Pierre, now an orphan, would have been a real son to the mistress. He
+would have lived in her house, and have surrounded her old age with care
+and affection. And then, he was so full of ability that he could not
+help attaining a brilliant position. She would have helped him, and
+would have rejoiced in his success. And all this scaffolding was
+overturned because this Panine had crossed Micheline's path. A foreign
+adventurer, prince perhaps, but who could tell? Lies are easily told
+when the proofs of the lie have to be sought beyond the frontiers. And
+it was her daughter who was going to fall in love with an insipid fop
+who only coveted her millions. That she should see such a man enter her
+family, steal Micheline's love from her, and rummage her strongbox! In
+a moment she vowed mortal hatred against Panine, and resolved to do all
+she could to prevent the longed-for marriage with her daughter.
+
+She was disturbed in her meditation by Cayrol's voice. He wished to take
+an answer to the Prince. What must he say to him?
+
+"You will let him know," said Madame Desvarennes, "that he must refrain
+from seeking opportunities of meeting my daughter. If he be a gentleman,
+he will understand that his presence, even in Paris, is disagreeable to
+me. I ask him to go away for three weeks. After that time he may come
+back, and I agree to give him an answer."
+
+"You promise me that you will not be vexed with me for having undertaken
+this errand?"
+
+"I promise on one condition. It is, that not a word which has passed
+here this morning shall be repeated to any one. Nobody must suspect the
+proposal that you have just made to me."
+
+Cayrol swore to hold his tongue, and he kept his word. Prince Panine
+left that same night for England.
+
+Madame Desvarennes was a woman of quick resolution. She took a sheet
+of paper, a pen, and in her large handwriting wrote the following lines
+addressed to Pierre:
+
+"If you do not wish to find Micheline married on your return, come back
+without a moment's delay."
+
+She sent this ominous letter to the young man, who was then in Tripoli.
+That done, she returned to her business as if nothing had happened. Her
+placid face did not once betray the anguish of her heart during those
+three weeks.
+
+The term fixed by Madame Desvarennes with the Prince had expired that
+morning. And the severity with which the mistress had received the
+Minister of War's Financial Secretary was a symptom of the agitation in
+which the necessity of coming to a decision placed Micheline's mother.
+Every morning for the last week she had expected Pierre to arrive. What
+with having to give an answer to the Prince as she had promised, and the
+longing to see him whom she loved as a son, she felt sick at heart and
+utterly cast down. She thought of asking the Prince for a respite. It
+was for that reason she was glad to see Cayrol.
+
+The latter, therefore, had arrived opportunely. He looked as if he
+brought startling news. By a glance he drew Madame Desvarennes's
+attention to Marechal and seemed to say:
+
+"I must be alone with you; send him away."
+
+The mistress understood, and with a decided gesture said:
+
+"You can speak before Marechal; he knows all my affairs as well as I do
+myself."
+
+"Even the matter that brings me here?" replied Cayrol, with surprise.
+
+"Even that. It was necessary for me to have some one to whom I could
+speak, or else my heart would have burst! Come, do your errand. The
+Prince?"
+
+"A lot it has to do with the Prince," exclaimed Cayrol, in a huff.
+"Pierre has arrived!"
+
+Madame Desvarennes rose abruptly. A rush of blood rose to her face, her
+eyes brightened, and her lips opened with a smile.
+
+"At last!" she cried. "But where is he? How did you hear of his return?"
+
+"Ah! faith, it was just by chance. I was shooting yesterday at
+Fontainebleau, and I returned this morning by the express. On arriving
+at Paris, I alighted on the platform, and there I found myself face
+to face with a tall young man with a long beard, who, seeing me pass,
+called out, 'Ah, Cayrol!' It was Pierre. I only recognized him by his
+voice. He is much changed; with his beard, and his complexion bronzed
+like an African."
+
+"What did he say to you?"
+
+"Nothing. He pressed my hand. He looked at me for a moment with
+glistening eyes. There was something on his lips which he longed to ask,
+yet did not; but I guessed it. I was afraid of giving way to tenderness,
+that might have ended in my saying something foolish, so I left him."
+
+"How long ago is that?"
+
+"About an hour ago. I only just ran home before coming on here. There
+I found Panine waiting for me. He insisted upon accompanying me. I hope
+you won't blame him?"
+
+Madame Desvarennes frowned.
+
+"I will not see him just now," she said, looking at Cayrol with a
+resolute air. "Where did you leave him?"
+
+"In the garden, where I found the young ladies."
+
+As if to verify the banker's words, a merry peal of laughter was heard
+through the half-open window. It was Micheline, who, with returning
+gayety, was making up for the three weeks' sadness she had experienced
+during Panine's absence.
+
+Madame Desvarennes went to the window, and looked into the garden.
+Seated on the lawn, in large bamboo chairs, the young girls were
+listening to a story the Prince was telling. The morning was bright and
+mild; the sun shining through Micheline's silk sunshade lit up her fair
+head. Before her, Serge, bending his tall figure, was speaking with
+animation. Micheline's eyes were softly fixed on him. Reclining in her
+armchair, she allowed herself to be carried away with his conversation,
+and thoroughly enjoyed his society, of which she had been deprived for
+the last three weeks. Beside her, Jeanne, silently watching the Prince,
+was mechanically nibbling, with her white teeth, a bunch of carnations
+which she held in her hands. A painful thought contracted Mademoiselle
+de Cernay's brow, and her pale lips on the red flowers seemed to be
+drinking blood.
+
+The mistress slowly turned away from this scene. A shadow had
+crossed her brow, which had, for a moment, become serene again at the
+announcement of Pierre's arrival. She remained silent for a little
+while, as if considering; then coming to a resolution, and turning to
+Cayrol, she said:
+
+"Where is Pierre staying?"
+
+"At the Hotel du Louvre," replied the banker.
+
+"Well, I'm going there."
+
+Madame Desvarennes rang the bell violently.
+
+"My bonnet, my cloak, and the carriage," she said, and with a friendly
+nod to the two men, she went out quickly.
+
+Micheline was still laughing in the garden. Marechal and Cayrol looked
+at each other. Cayrol was the first to speak.
+
+"The mistress told you all about the matter then? How is it you never
+spoke to me about it?"
+
+"Should I have been worthy of Madame Desvarennes's confidence had I
+spoken of what she wished to keep secret?"
+
+"To me?"
+
+"Especially to you. The attitude which you have taken forbade my
+speaking. You favor Prince Panine?"
+
+"And you; you are on Pierre Delarue's side?"
+
+"I take no side. I am only a subordinate, you know; I do not count."
+
+"Do not attempt to deceive me. Your influence over the mistress is
+great. The confidence she has in you is a conclusive proof. Important
+events are about to take place here. Pierre has certainly returned to
+claim his right as betrothed, and Mademoiselle Micheline loves Prince
+Serge. Out of this a serious conflict will take place in the house.
+There will be a battle. And as the parties in question are about equal
+in strength, I am seeking adherents for my candidate. I own, in all
+humility, I am on love's side. The Prince is beloved by Mademoiselle
+Desvarennes, and I serve him. Micheline will be grateful, and will do me
+a turn with Mademoiselle de Cernay. As to you, let me give you a little
+advice. If Madame Desvarennes consults you, speak well of Panine. When
+the Prince is master here, your position will be all the better for it."
+
+Marechal had listened to Cayrol without anything betraying the
+impression his words created. He looked at the banker in a peculiar
+manner, which caused him to feel uncomfortable, and made him lower his
+eyes.
+
+"Perhaps you do not know, Monsieur Cayrol," said the secretary, after a
+moment's pause, "how I entered this firm. It is as well in that case
+to inform you. Four years ago, I was most wretched. After having sought
+fortune ten times without success, I felt myself giving way morally and
+physically. There are some beings gifted with energy, who can surmount
+all the difficulties of life. You are one of those. As for me, the
+struggle exhausted my strength, and I came to grief. It would take too
+long to enumerate all the ways of earning my living I tried. Few even
+fed me; and I was thinking of putting an end to my miserable existence
+when I met Pierre. We had been at college together. I went toward him;
+he was on the quay. I dared to stop him. At first he did not recognize
+me, I was so haggard, so wretched-looking! But when I spoke, he cried,
+'Marechal!' and, without blushing at my tatters, put his arms round my
+neck. We were opposite the Belle Jardiniere, the clothiers; he wanted to
+rig me out. I remember as if it were but yesterday I said, 'No, nothing,
+only find me work!'--'Work, my poor fellow,' he answered, 'but just look
+at yourself; who would have confidence to give you any? You look like
+a tramp, and when you accosted me a little while ago, I asked myself if
+you were not about to steal my watch!' And he laughed gayly, happy
+at having found me again, and thinking that he might be of use to me.
+Seeing that I would not go into the shop, he took off his overcoat, and
+put it on my back to cover my tattered clothes, and there and then he
+took me to Madame Desvarennes. Two days later I entered the office. You
+see the position I hold, and I owe it to Pierre. He has been more than a
+friend to me--a brother. Come! after that, tell me what you would think
+of me if I did what you have just asked me?"
+
+Cayrol was confused; he twisted his bristly beard with his fingers.
+
+"Faith, I do not say that your scruples are not right; but, between
+ourselves, every step that is taken against the Prince will count for
+naught. He will marry Mademoiselle Desvarennes."
+
+"It is possible. In that case, I shall be here to console Pierre and
+sympathize with him."
+
+"And in the mean time you are going to do all you can in his favor?"
+
+"I have already had the honor of telling you that I cannot do anything."
+
+"Well, well. One knows what talking means, and you will not change my
+idea of your importance. You take the weaker side then; that's superb!"
+
+"It is but strictly honest," said Marechal. "It is true that that
+quality has become very rare!"
+
+Cayrol wheeled round on his heels. He took a few steps toward the door,
+then, returning to Marechal, held out his hand:
+
+"Without a grudge, eh?"
+
+The secretary allowed his hand to be shaken without answering, and the
+banker went out, saying to himself:
+
+"He is without a sou and has prejudices! There's a lad without a
+future."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV. THE RIVALS
+
+On reaching Paris, Pierre Delarue experienced a strange feeling. In his
+feverish haste he longed for the swiftness of electricity to bring him
+near Micheline. As soon as he arrived in Paris, he regretted having
+travelled so fast. He longed to meet his betrothed, yet feared to know
+his fate.
+
+He had a sort of presentiment that his reception would destroy his
+hopes. And the more he tried to banish these thoughts, the more forcibly
+they returned. The thought that Micheline had forgotten her promise made
+the blood rush to his face.
+
+Madame Desvarennes's short letter suggested it. That his betrothed
+was lost to him he understood, but he would not admit it. How was it
+possible that Micheline should forget him? All his childhood passed
+before his mind. He remembered the sweet and artless evidences of
+affection which the young girl had given him. And yet she no longer
+loved him! It was her own mother who said so. After that could he still
+hope?
+
+A prey to this deep trouble, Pierre entered Paris. On finding himself
+face to face with Cayrol, the young man's first idea was, as Cayrol had
+guessed, to cry out, "What's going on? Is all lost to me?" A sort of
+anxious modesty kept back the words on his lips. He would not admit that
+he doubted. And, then, Cayrol would only have needed to answer that
+all was over, and that he could put on mourning for his love. He turned
+around, and went out.
+
+The tumult of Paris surprised and stunned him. After spending a year
+in the peaceful solitudes of Africa, to find himself amid the cries of
+street-sellers, the rolling of carriages, and the incessant movement of
+the great city, was too great a contrast to him. Pierre was overcome
+by languor; his head seemed too heavy for his body to carry; he
+mechanically entered a cab which conveyed him to the Hotel du Louvre.
+Through the window, against the glass of which he tried to cool his
+heated forehead, he saw pass in procession before his eyes, the Column
+of July, the church of St. Paul, the Hotel de Ville in ruins, and the
+colonnade of the Louvre.
+
+An absurd idea took possession of him. He remembered that during the
+Commune he was nearly killed in the Rue Saint-Antoine by the explosion
+of a shell, thrown by the insurgents from the heights of Pere-Lachaise.
+He thought that had he died then, Micheline would have wept for him.
+Then, as in a nightmare, it seemed to him that this hypothesis was
+realized. He saw the church hung with black, he heard the funeral
+chants. A catafalque contained his coffin, and slowly his betrothed
+came, with a trembling hand, to throw holy water on the cloth which
+covered the bier. And a voice said within him:
+
+"You are dead, since Micheline is about to marry another."
+
+He made an effort to banish this importunate idea. He could not succeed.
+Thoughts flew through his brain with fearful rapidity. He thought he was
+beginning to be seized with brain fever. And this dismal ceremony kept
+coming before him with the same chants, the same words repeated, and the
+same faces appearing. The houses seemed to fly before his vacant eyes.
+To stop this nightmare he tried to count the gas-lamps: one, two, three,
+four, five--but the same thought interrupted his calculation:
+
+"You are dead, since your betrothed is about to marry another."
+
+He was afraid he was going mad. A sharp pain shot across his forehead
+just above the right eyebrow. In the old days he had felt the same pain
+when he had overworked himself in preparing for his examinations at the
+Polytechnic School. With a bitter smile he asked himself if one of the
+aching vessels in his brain was about to burst?
+
+The sudden stoppage of the cab freed him from this torture. The hotel
+porter opened the door. Pierre stepped out mechanically. Without
+speaking a word he followed a waiter, who showed him to a room on the
+second floor. Left alone, he sat down. This room, with its commonplace
+furniture, chilled him. He saw in it a type of his future life: lonely
+and desolate. Formerly, when he used to come to Paris, he stayed with
+Madame Desvarennes, where he had the comforts of home, and every one
+looked on him affectionately.
+
+Here, at the hotel, orders were obeyed with politeness at so much a day.
+Would it always be thus in future?
+
+This painful impression dissipated his weakness as by enchantment. He so
+bitterly regretted the sweets of the past, that he resolved to struggle
+to secure them for the future. He dressed himself quickly, and removed
+all the traces of his journey; then, his mind made up, he jumped into a
+cab, and drove to Madame Desvarennes's. All indecision had left him. His
+fears now seemed contemptible. He must defend himself. It was a question
+of his happiness.
+
+At the Place de la Concorde a carriage passed his cab. He recognized the
+livery of Madame Desvarennes's coachman and leant forward. The mistress
+did not see him. He was about to stop the cab and tell his driver to
+follow her carriage when a sudden thought decided him to go on. It was
+Micheline he wanted to see. His future destiny depended on her. Madame
+Desvarennes had made him clearly understand that by calling for his help
+in her fatal letter. He went on his way, and in a few minutes arrived at
+the mansion in the Rue Saint-Dominique.
+
+Micheline and Jeanne were still in the garden, seated in the same place
+on the lawn. Cayrol had joined Serge. Both, profiting by the lovely
+morning, were enjoying the society of their beloved ones. A quick step
+on the gravel walk attracted their attention. In the sunlight a young
+man, whom neither Jeanne nor Micheline recognized, was advancing. When
+about two yards distant from the group he slowly raised his hat.
+
+Seeing the constrained and astonished manner of the young girls, a sad
+smile played on his lips, then he said, softly:
+
+"Am I then so changed that I must tell you my name?"
+
+At these words Micheline jumped up, she became as white as her collar,
+and trembling, with sobs rising to her lips, stood silent and petrified
+before Pierre. She could not speak, but her eyes were eagerly fixed on
+the young man. It was he, the companion of her youth, so changed that
+she had not recognized him; worn by hard work, perhaps by anxieties,
+bronzed--and with his face hidden by a black beard which gave him a
+manly and energetic appearance. It was certainly he, with a thin red
+ribbon at his button-hole, which he had not when he went away, and which
+showed the importance of the works he had executed and of great perils
+he had faced. Pierre, trembling and motionless, was silent; the sound of
+his voice choked with emotion had frightened him. He had expected a cold
+reception, but this scared look, which resembled terror, was beyond all
+he had pictured. Serge wondered and watched.
+
+Jeanne broke the icy silence. She went up to Pierre, and presented her
+forehead.
+
+"Well," she said, "don't you kiss your friends?"
+
+She smiled affectionately on him. Two grateful tears sparkled in the
+young man's eyes, and fell on Mademoiselle de Cernay's hair. Micheline,
+led away by the example and without quite knowing what she was doing,
+found herself in Pierre's arms. The situation was becoming singularly
+perplexing to Serge. Cayrol, who had not lost his presence of mind,
+understood it, and turning toward the Prince, said:
+
+"Monsieur Pierre Delarue: an old friend and companion of Mademoiselle
+Desvarennes's; almost a brother to her," thus explaining in one word all
+that could appear unusual in such a scene of tenderness.
+
+Then, addressing Pierre, he simply added--"Prince Panine."
+
+The two men looked at each other. Serge, with haughty curiosity; Pierre,
+with inexpressible rage. In a moment, he guessed that the tall, handsome
+man beside his betrothed was his rival. If looks could kill, the Prince
+would have fallen down dead. Panine did not deign to notice the hatred
+which glistened in the eyes of the newcomer. He turned toward Micheline
+with exquisite grace and said:
+
+"Your mother receives her friends this evening, I think, Mademoiselle; I
+shall have the honor of paying my respects to her."
+
+And taking leave of Jeanne with a smile, and of Pierre with a courteous
+bow, he left, accompanied by Cayrol.
+
+Serge's departure was a relief to Micheline. Between these two men to
+whom she belonged, to the one by a promise, to the other by an
+avowal, she felt ashamed. Left alone with Pierre she recovered her
+self-possession, and felt full of pity for the poor fellow threatened
+with such cruel deception. She went tenderly to him, with her loving
+eyes of old, and pressed his hand:
+
+"I am very glad to see you again, my dear Pierre; and my mother will be
+delighted. We were very anxious about you. You have not written to us
+for some months."
+
+Pierre tried to joke: "The post does not leave very often in the desert.
+I wrote whenever I had an opportunity."
+
+"Is it so very pleasant in Africa that you could not tear yourself away
+a whole year?"
+
+"I had to take another journey on the coast of Tripoli to finish my
+labors. I was interested in my work, and anxious not to lose the result
+of so much effort, and I think I have succeeded--at least in--the
+opinion of my employers," said the young man, with a ghastly smile.
+
+"My dear Pierre, you come in time from the land of the sphinx,"
+interrupted Jeanne gravely, and glancing intently at Micheline. "There
+is here, I assure you, a difficult enigma to solve."
+
+"What is it?"
+
+"That which is written in this heart," she replied, lightly touching her
+companion's breast.
+
+"From childhood I have always read it as easily as a book," said Pierre,
+with tremulous voice, turning toward the amazed Micheline.
+
+Mademoiselle de Cernay tossed her head.
+
+"Who knows? Perhaps her disposition has changed during your absence;"
+and nodding pleasantly, she went toward the house.
+
+Pierre followed her for a moment with his eyes, then, turning toward his
+betrothed, said:
+
+"Micheline, shall I tell you your secret? You no longer love me."
+
+The young girl started. The attack was direct. She must at once give
+an explanation. She had often thought of what she would say when Pierre
+came back to her. The day had arrived unexpectedly. And the answers she
+had prepared had fled. The truth appeared harsh and cold. She understood
+that the change in her was treachery, of which Pierre was the innocent
+victim; and feeling herself to blame, she waited tremblingly the
+explosion of this loyal heart so cruelly wounded. She stammered, in
+tremulous accents:
+
+"Pierre, my friend, my brother."
+
+"Your brother!" cried the young man, bitterly. "Was that the name you
+were to give me on my return?"
+
+At these words, which so completely summed up the situation, Micheline
+remained silent. Still she felt that at all hazards she must defend
+herself. Her mother might come in at any moment. Between Madame
+Desvarennes and her betrothed, what would become of her? The hour was
+decisive. Her strong love for Serge gave her fresh energy.
+
+"Why did you go away?" she asked, with sadness.
+
+Pierre raised with pride his head which had been bent with anguish.
+
+"To be worthy of you," he merely said.
+
+"You did not need to be worthy of me; you, who were already above every
+one else. We were betrothed; you only had to guard me."
+
+"Could not your heart guard itself?"
+
+"Without help, without the support of your presence and affection?"
+
+"Without other help or support than I had myself: Hope and Remembrance."
+
+Micheline turned pale. Each word spoken by Pierre made her feel the
+unworthiness of her conduct more completely. She endeavored to find a
+new excuse:
+
+"Pierre, you know I was only a child."
+
+"No," said the young man, with choked voice, "I see that you were
+already a woman; a being weak, inconstant, and cruel; who cares not for
+the love she inspires, and sacrifices all to the love she feels."
+
+So long as Pierre had only complained, Micheline felt overwhelmed and
+without strength; but the young man began to accuse. In a moment the
+young girl regained her presence of mind and revolted.
+
+"Those are hard words!" she exclaimed.
+
+"Are they not deserved?" cried Pierre, no longer restraining himself.
+"You saw me arrive trembling, with eyes full of tears, and not only had
+you not an affectionate word to greet me with, but you almost accuse me
+of indifference. You reproach me with having gone away. Did you not know
+my motive for going? I was betrothed to you; you were rich and I was
+poor. To remove this inequality I resolved to make a name. I sought one
+of those perilous scientific missions which bring celebrity or death
+to those who undertake them. Ah! think not that I went away from you
+without heart-breaking! For a year I was almost alone, crushed with
+fatigue, always in danger; the thought that I was suffering for you
+supported me.
+
+"When lost in the vast desert, I was sad and discouraged; I invoked you,
+and your sweet face gave me fresh hope and energy. I said to myself,
+'She is waiting for me. A day will come when I shall win the prize of
+all my trouble.' Well, Micheline, the day has come; here I am, returned,
+and I ask for my reward. Is it what I had a right to expect? While I was
+running after glory, another, more practical and better advised, stole
+your heart. My happiness is destroyed. You did well to forget me.
+The fool who goes so far away from his betrothed does not deserve her
+faithfulness. He is cold, indifferent, he does not know how to love!"
+
+These vehement utterances troubled Micheline deeply. For the first time
+she understood her betrothed, felt how much he loved her, and regretted
+not having known it before. If Pierre had spoken like that before going
+away, who knows? Micheline's feelings might have been quickened. No
+doubt she would have loved him. It would have come naturally. But Pierre
+had kept the secret of his passion for the young girl to himself. It was
+only despair, and the thought of losing her, that made him give vent to
+his feelings now.
+
+"I see that I have been cruel and unjust to you," said Micheline. "I
+deserve your reproaches, but I am not the only one to blame. You, too,
+are at fault. What I have just heard has upset me. I am truly sorry
+to cause you so much pain; but it is too late. I no longer belong to
+myself."
+
+"And did you belong to yourself?"
+
+"No! It is true, you had my word, but be generous. Do not abuse the
+authority which being my betrothed gives you. That promise I would now
+ask back from you."
+
+"And if I refuse to release you from your promise? If I tried to, regain
+your love?" cried Pierre, forcibly. "Have I not the right to defend
+myself? And what would you think of my love if I relinquished you so
+readily?"
+
+There was a moment's silence. The interview was at its highest pitch of
+excitement. Micheline knew that she must put an end to it. She replied
+with firmness:
+
+"A girl such as I am will not break her word; mine belongs to you, but
+my heart is another's. Say you insist, and I am ready to keep my promise
+to become your wife. It is for you to decide."
+
+Pierre gave the young girl a look which plunged into the depths of her
+heart. He read there her resolve that she would act loyally, but that at
+the same time she would never forget him who had so irresistibly gained
+her heart. He made a last effort.
+
+"Listen," he said, with ardent voice, "it is impossible that you can
+have forgotten me so soon: I love you so much! Remember our affection in
+the old days, Micheline. Remember!"
+
+He no longer argued; he pleaded. Micheline felt victorious. She was
+moved with pity.
+
+"Alas! my poor Pierre, my affection was only friendship, and my
+heart has not changed toward you. The love which I now feel is quite
+different. If it had not come to me, I might have been your wife. And
+I esteemed you so much, that I should have been happy. But now I
+understand the difference. You, whom I had accepted, would never have
+been more to me than a tender companion; he whom I have chosen will be
+my master."
+
+Pierre uttered a cry at this cruel and frank avowal.
+
+"Ah! how you hurt me!"
+
+And bitter tears rolled down his face to the relief of his overburdened
+heart. He sank on to a seat, and for a moment gave way to violent
+grief. Micheline, more touched by his despair than she had been by his
+reproaches, went to him and wiped his face with her lace handkerchief.
+Her white hand was close to the young man's mouth,--and he kissed it
+eagerly. Then, as if roused by the action, he rose with a changed look
+in his eyes, and seized the young girl in his arms. Micheline did not
+utter a word. She looked coldly and resolutely at Pierre, and threw back
+her head to avoid the contact of his eager lips. That look was enough.
+The arms which held her were unloosed, and Pierre moved away, murmuring:
+
+"I beg your pardon. You see I am not in my right mind."
+
+Then passing his hand across his forehead as if to chase away a wicked
+thought, he added:
+
+"So it is irrevocable? You love him?"
+
+"Enough to give you so much pain; enough to be nobody's unless I belong
+to him."
+
+Pierre reflected a moment, then, coming to a decision:
+
+"Go, you are free," said he; "I give you back your promise."
+
+Micheline uttered a cry of triumph, which made him who had been her
+betrothed turn pale. She regretted not having hidden her joy better. She
+approached Pierre and said:
+
+"Tell me that you forgive me!"
+
+"I forgive you."
+
+"You still weep?"
+
+"Yes; I am weeping over my lost happiness. I thought the best means
+of being loved were to deserve it. I was mistaken. I will courageously
+atone for my error. Excuse my weakness, and believe that you will never
+have a more faithful and devoted friend than I."
+
+Micheline gave him her hand, and, smiling, bowed her forehead to his
+lips. He slowly impressed a brotherly kiss, which effaced the burning
+trace of the one which he had stolen a moment before.
+
+At the same time a deep voice was heard in the distance, calling Pierre.
+Micheline trembled.
+
+"'Tis my mother," she said. "She is seeking you. I will leave you.
+Adieu, and a thousand thanks from my very heart."
+
+And nimbly springing behind a clump of lilac-trees in flower, Micheline
+disappeared.
+
+Pierre mechanically went toward the house. He ascended the marble steps
+and entered the drawing-room. As he shut the door, Madame Desvarennes
+appeared.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V. A CRITICAL INTERVIEW
+
+Madame Desvarennes had been driven to the Hotel du Louvre without losing
+a minute. She most wanted to know in what state of mind her daughter's
+betrothed had arrived in Paris. Had the letter, which brutally told
+him the truth, roused him and tightened the springs of his will? Was he
+ready for the struggle?
+
+If she found him confident and bold, she had only to settle with him as
+to the common plan of action which must bring about the eviction of
+the audacious candidate who wished to marry Micheline. If she found him
+discouraged and doubtful of himself, she had decided to animate him with
+her ardor against Serge Panine.
+
+She prepared these arguments on the way, and, boiling with impatience,
+outstripped in thought the fleet horse which was drawing her past the
+long railings of the Tuileries toward the Hotel du Louvre. Wrapped in
+her meditations she did not see Pierre. She was saying to herself:
+
+"This fair-haired Polish dandy does not know with whom he has to deal.
+He will see what sort of a woman I am. He has not risen early enough in
+the morning to hoodwink me. If Pierre is only of the same opinion as I,
+we shall soon spoil this fortune-hunter's work."
+
+The carriage stopped.
+
+"Monsieur Pierre Delarue?" inquired the mistress.
+
+"Madame, he went out a quarter of an hour ago."
+
+"To go where?"
+
+"He did not say."
+
+"Do you know whether he will be absent long?"
+
+"I don't know."
+
+"Much obliged."
+
+Madame Desvarennes, quite discomfited by this mischance, reflected.
+Where could Pierre have gone? Probably to her house. Without losing a
+minute, she reentered the carriage, and gave orders to return to the Rue
+Saint-Dominique. If he had gone at once to her house, it was plain that
+he was ready to do anything to keep Micheline. The coachman who had
+received the order drove furiously. She said to herself:
+
+"Pierre is in a cab. Allowing that he is driving moderately quick he
+will only have half-an-hour's start of me. He will pass through the
+office, will see Marechal, and however eager he be, will lose a quarter
+of an hour in chatting to him. It would be most vexing if he did
+anything foolish in the remaining fifteen minutes! The fault is mine: I
+ought to have sent him a letter at Marseilles, to tell him what line of
+conduct to adopt on his arrival. So long as he does not meet Micheline
+on entering the house!"
+
+At that idea Madame Desvarennes felt the blood rushing to her face. She
+put her head out of the carriage window, and called to the coachman:
+
+"Drive faster!"
+
+He drove more furiously still, and in a few minutes reached the Rue
+Saint-Dominique.
+
+She tore into the house like a hurricane, questioned the hall-porter,
+and learned that Delarue had arrived. She hastened to Marechal, and
+asked him in such a strange manner, "Have you seen Pierre?" that he
+thought some accident had happened.
+
+On seeing her secretary's scared look, she understood that what she
+most dreaded had come to pass. She hurried to the drawing-room, calling
+Pierre in a loud voice. The French window opened, and she found herself
+face to face with the young man. A glance at her adopted son's face
+increased her fears. She opened her arms and clasped Pierre to her
+heart.
+
+After the first emotions were over, she longed to know what had happened
+during her absence, and inquired of Pierre:
+
+"By whom were you received on arriving here?"
+
+"By Micheline."
+
+"That is what I feared! What did she tell you?"
+
+"Everything!"
+
+In three sentences these two strong beings had summed up all that had
+taken place. Madame Desvarennes remained silent for a moment, then, with
+sudden tenderness, and as if to make up for her daughter's treachery,
+said:
+
+"Come, let me kiss you again, my poor boy. You suffer, eh? and I too!
+I am quite overcome. For ten years I have cherished the idea of your
+marrying Micheline. You are a man of merit, and you have no relatives.
+You would not take my daughter away from me; on the contrary I think you
+like me, and would willingly live with me. In arranging this marriage
+I realized the dream of my life. I was not taking a son-in-law-I was
+gaining a new child."
+
+"Believe me," said Pierre, sadly, "it is not my fault that your wish is
+not carried out."
+
+"That, my boy, is another question!" cried Madame Desvarennes, whose
+voice was at once raised two tones. "And that is where we do not agree.
+You are responsible for what has occurred. I know what you are going,
+to tell me. You wished to bring laurels to Micheline as a dower. That
+is all nonsense! When one leaves the Polytechnic School with honors, and
+with a future open to you like yours, it is not necessary to scour
+the deserts to dazzle a young girl. One begins by marrying her, and
+celebrity comes afterward, at the same time as the children. And then
+there was no need to risk all at such a cost. What, are we then so
+grand? Ex-bakers! Millionaires, certainly, which does not alter the
+fact that poor Desvarennes carried out the bread, and that I gave change
+across the counter when folks came to buy sou-cakes! But you wanted
+to be a knight-errant, and, during that time, a handsome fellow. Did
+Micheline tell you the gentleman's name?"
+
+"I met him when I came here; he was with her in the garden. We were
+introduced to each other."
+
+"That was good taste," said Madame Desvarennes with irony. "Oh, he is a
+youth who is not easily disturbed, and in his most passionate transports
+will not disarrange a fold of his cravat. You know he is a Prince? That
+is most flattering to the Desvarennes! We shall use his coat-of-arms as
+our trade-mark. The fortune hunter, ugh! No doubt he said to himself,
+'The baker has money--and her daughter is agreeable.' And he is making a
+business of it."
+
+"He is only following the example of many of his equals. Marriage is
+to-day the sole pursuit of the nobility."
+
+"The nobility! That of our country might be tolerated, but foreign
+noblemen are mere adventurers."
+
+"It is well known that the Panines come from Posen--the papers have
+mentioned them more than twenty times."
+
+"Why is he not in his own country?"
+
+"He is exiled."
+
+"He has done something wrong, then!"
+
+"He has, like all his family, fought for independence."
+
+"Then he is a revolutionist!"
+
+"A patriot."
+
+"You are very kind to tell me all that."
+
+"I may hate Prince Panine," said Pierre, simply, "but that is no reason
+why I should not be just to him."
+
+"So be it; he is an exceptional being, a great citizen, a hero, if you
+like. But that does not prove that he will make my daughter happy. And
+if you take my advice, we shall send him about his business in a very
+short time."
+
+Madame Desvarennes was excited and paced hurriedly up and down the room.
+The idea of resuming the offensive after she had been forced to act on
+the defensive for months past pleased her. She thought Pierre argued too
+much. A woman of action, she did not understand why Pierre had not yet
+come to a resolution. She felt that she must gain his confidence.
+
+"You are master of the situation," she said. "The Prince does not suit
+me--"
+
+"Micheline loves him," interrupted Pierre.
+
+"She fancies so," replied Madame Desvarennes. "She has got it into her
+head, but it will wear off. You thoroughly understand that I did not bid
+you to come from Africa to be present at my daughter's wedding. If you
+are a man, we shall see some fun. Micheline is your betrothed. You have
+our word, and the word of a Desvarennes is as good as the signature.--It
+has never been dishonored. Well, refuse to give us back our promise.
+Gain time, make love, and take my daughter away from that dandy."
+
+Pierre remained silent for a few minutes. In a moment he measured the
+extent of the mischief done, by seeing Micheline before consulting
+Madame Desvarennes. With the help of this energetic woman he might have
+struggled, whereas left to his own strength, he had at the outset been
+vanquished and forced to lay down his arms. Not only had he yielded, but
+he had drawn his ally into his defeat.
+
+"Your encouragements come too late," said he. "Micheline asked me to
+give her back her promise, and I gave it to her."
+
+"You were so weak as that!" cried Madame Desvarennes. "And she had so
+much boldness? Does she dote on him so? I suspected her plans, and I
+hastened to warn you. But all is not lost. You have given Micheline
+back her promise. So be it. But I have not given you back yours. You are
+pledged to me. I will not countenance the marriage which my daughter has
+arranged without my consent! Help me to break it off. And, faith, you
+could easily find another woman worth Micheline, but where shall I find
+a son-in-law worth you? Come, the happiness of us all is in peril; save
+it!"
+
+"Why continue the struggle? I am beaten beforehand."
+
+"But if you forsake me, what can I do single-handed with Micheline?"
+
+"Do what she wishes, as usual. You are surprised at my giving you this
+advice? It is no merit on my part. Until now you have refused your
+daughter's request; but if she comes again beseeching and crying, you
+who are so strong and can say so well 'I will,' will be weak and will
+not be able to refuse her her Prince. Believe me; consent willingly. Who
+knows? Your son'-in-law may be grateful to you for it by-and-by."
+
+Madame Desvarennes had listened to Pierre with amazement.
+
+"Really, you are incredible," she said; "you discuss all this so calmly.
+Have you no grief?"
+
+"Yes," replied Pierre, solemnly, "it is almost killing me."
+
+"Nonsense! You are boasting!" cried Madame Desvarennes, vehemently. "Ah,
+scholar! figures have dried up your heart!"
+
+"No," replied the young man, with melancholy, "but work has destroyed in
+me the seductions of youth. It has made me thoughtful, and a little sad.
+I frightened Micheline, instead of attracting her. The worst is that we
+live in such a state of high pressure, it is quite impossible to
+grasp all that is offered to us in this life-work and pleasure. It is
+necessary to make a choice, to economize one's time and strength, and
+to work with either the heart or the brain alone. The result is that the
+neglected organ wastes away, and that men of pleasure remain all their
+lives mediocre workers, while hard workers are pitiful lovers. The
+former sacrifice the dignity of existence, the latter that which is
+the charm of existence. So that, in decisive moments, when the man of
+pleasure appeals to his intelligence, he finds he is unfit for duty,
+and when the man of toil appeals to his heart, he finds that he is
+unqualified for happiness."
+
+"Well, my boy, so much the worse for the women who cannot appreciate men
+of work, and who allow themselves to be wheedled by men of pleasure. I
+never was one of those; and serious as you are, thirty years ago I would
+have jumped at you. But as you know your ailment so well, why don't you
+cure yourself? The remedy is at hand."
+
+"What is it?"
+
+"Strong will. Marry Micheline. I'll answer for everything."
+
+"She does not love me."
+
+"A woman always ends by loving her husband."
+
+"I love Micheline too much to accept her hand without her heart."
+
+Madame Desvarennes saw that she would gain nothing, and that the game
+was irrevocably lost. A great sorrow stole over her. She foresaw a dark
+future, and had a presentiment that trouble had entered the house with
+Serge Panine. What could she do? Combat the infatuation of her daughter!
+She knew that life would be odious for her if Micheline ceased to laugh
+and to sing. Her daughter's tears would conquer her will. Pierre had
+told her truly. Where was the use of fighting when defeat was certain?
+She, too, felt that she was powerless, and with heartfelt sorrow came to
+a decision.
+
+"Come, I see that I must make up my mind to be grandmother to little
+princes. It pleases me but little on the father's account. My daughter
+will have a sad lot with a fellow of that kind. Well, he had better keep
+in the right path; for I shall be there to call him to order. Micheline
+must be happy. When my husband was alive, I was already more of a mother
+than a wife; now my whole life is wrapped up in my daughter."
+
+Then raising her vigorous arms with grim energy, she added:
+
+"Do you know, if my daughter were made miserable through her husband, I
+should be capable of killing him."
+
+These were the last words of the interview which decided the destiny
+of Micheline, of the Prince, of Madame Desvarennes, and of Pierre. The
+mistress stretched out her hand and rang the bell. A servant appeared,
+to whom she gave instructions to tell Marechal to come down. She thought
+it would be pleasant for Pierre to pour out his griefs into the heart of
+his friend. A man weeps with difficulty before a woman, and she guessed
+that the young man's heart was swollen with tears. Marechal was not far
+off. He arrived in a moment, and springing toward Pierre put his arms
+round his neck. When Madame Desvarennes saw the two friends fully
+engrossed with each other, she said to Marechal:
+
+"I give you leave until this evening. Then bring Pierre back with you; I
+wish to see him after dinner."
+
+And with a firm step she went toward Micheline's room, where the latter
+was waiting in fear to know the result of the interview.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI. A SIGNIFICANT MEETING
+
+The mansion in the Rue Saint-Dominique is certainly one of the finest
+to be seen. Sovereigns alone have more sumptuous palaces. The wide
+staircase, of carved oak, is bordered by a bronze balustrade, made by
+Ghirlandajo, and brought from Florence by Sommervieux, the great dealer
+in curiosities. Baron Rothschild would consent to give only a hundred
+thousand francs for it. Madame Desvarennes bought it. The large panels
+of the staircase are hung with splendid tapestry, from designs by
+Boucher, representing the different metamorphoses of Jupiter. At each
+landing-place stands a massive Japanese vase of 'claisonne' enamel,
+supported by a tripod of Chinese bronze, representing chimeras. On the
+first floor, tall columns of red granite, crowned by gilt capitals,
+divide the staircase from a gallery, serving as a conservatory. Plaited
+blinds of crimson silk hang before the Gothic windows, filled with
+marvellous stained glass.
+
+In the vestibule-the hangings of which are of Cordova-leather, with gold
+ground-seemingly awaiting the good pleasure of some grand lady, is a
+sedan-chair, decorated with paintings by Fragonard. Farther on, there
+is one of those superb carved mother-of-pearl coffers, in which Oriental
+women lay by their finery and jewellery. A splendid Venetian mirror, its
+frame embellished with tiny figure subjects, and measuring two metres
+in width and three in height, fills a whole panel of the vestibule.
+Portieres of Chinese satin, ornamented with striking embroidery, such
+as figures on a priest's chasuble, fall in sumptuous folds at the
+drawing-room and dining-room doors.
+
+The drawing-room contains a splendid set of Louis Quatorze furniture,
+of gilt wood, upholstered in fine tapestry, in an extraordinary state
+of preservation. Three crystal lustres, hanging at intervals along the
+room, sparkle like diamonds. The hangings, of woven silk and gold, are
+those which were sent as a present by Louis Quatorze to Monsieur de
+Pimentel, the Spanish Ambassador, to reward him for the part he had
+taken in the conclusion of the Treaty of the Pyrenees. These
+hangings are unique, and were brought back from Spain in 1814, in the
+baggage-train of Soult's army, and sold to an inhabitant of Toulouse
+for ten thousand francs. It was there that Madame Desvarennes discovered
+them in a garret in 1864, neglected by the grandchildren of the buyer,
+who were ignorant of the immense value of such unrivalled work. Cleverly
+mended, they are to-day the pride of the great trader's drawing-room.
+On the mantelpiece there is a large clock in Chinese lacquer, ornamented
+with gilt bronze, made on a model sent out from Paris in the reign of
+Louis Quatorze, and representing the Flight of the Hours pursued by
+Time.
+
+Adjoining the great drawing-room is a boudoir upholstered in light gray
+silk damask, with bouquets of flowers. This is Madame Desvarennes's
+favorite room. A splendid Erard piano occupies one side of the
+apartment. Facing it is a sideboard in sculptured ebony, enriched with
+bronze, by Gouthieres. There are only two pictures on the walls: "The
+Departure of the Newly Married Couple," exquisitely painted by Lancret;
+and "The Prediction," an adorable work by Watteau, bought at an
+incredible price at the Pourtales sale. Over the chimney-piece is a
+miniature by Pommayrac, representing Micheline as a little child--a
+treasure which Madame Desvarennes cannot behold without tears coming to
+her eyes. A door, hidden by curtains, opens on to a staircase leading
+directly to the courtyard.
+
+The dining-room is in the purest Renaissance style austere woodwork;
+immense chests of caned pearwood, on which stand precious ewers in
+Urbino ware, and dishes by Bernard Palissy. The high stone fireplace is
+surmounted by a portrait of Diana of Poitiers, with a crescent on her
+brow, and is furnished with firedogs of elaborately worked iron. The
+centre panel bears the arms of Admiral Bonnivet. Stained-glass windows
+admit a softly-tinted light. From the magnificently painted ceiling,
+a chandelier of brass repousse work hangs from the claws of a hovering
+eagle.
+
+The billiard-room is in the Indian style. Magnificent panoplies unite
+Rajpoot shields, Mahratta scimitars, helmets with curtains of steel,
+rings belonging to Afghan chiefs, and long lances ornamented with white
+mares' tails, wielded by the horsemen of Cabul. The walls are painted
+from designs brought from Lahore. The panels of the doors were decorated
+by Gerome. The great artist has painted Nautch girls twisting their
+floating scarves, and jugglers throwing poignards into the air. Around
+the room are low divans, covered with soft and brilliant Oriental cloth.
+The chandelier is quite original in form, being the exact representation
+of the god Vishnu. From the centre of the body hangs a lotus leaf of
+emeralds, and from each of the four arms is suspended a lamp shaped like
+a Hindu pagoda, which throws out a mellow light.
+
+Madame Desvarennes was entertaining her visitors in these celebrated
+apartments that evening. Marechal and Pierre had just come in, and were
+talking together near the fireplace. A few steps from them was a group,
+consisting of Cayrol, Madame Desvarennes, and a third person, who had
+never until then put his foot in the house, in spite of intercessions in
+his favor made by the banker to Madame Desvarennes. He was a tall, pale,
+thin man, whose skin seemed stretched on his bones, with a strongly
+developed under-jaw, like that of a ravenous animal, and eyes of
+indefinable color, always changing, and veiled behind golden-rimmed
+spectacles. His hands were soft and smooth, with moist palms and closely
+cut nails--vicious hands, made to take cunningly what they coveted. He
+had scanty hair, of a pale yellow, parted just above the ear, so as to
+enable him to brush it over the top of his head. This personage, clad
+in a double-breasted surtout, over a white waistcoat, and wearing a
+many-colored rosette, was called Hermann Herzog.
+
+A daring financier, he had come from Luxembourg, preceded by a great
+reputation; and, in a few months, he had launched in Paris such a series
+of important affairs that the big-wigs on the Exchange felt bound to
+treat with him. There were many rumors current about him. Some said he
+was the most intelligent, most active, and most scrupulous of men that
+it was possible to meet. Others said that no greater scoundrel had
+ever dared the vengeance of the law, after plundering honest people.
+Of German nationality, those who cried him down said he was born at
+Mayence. Those who treated the rumors as legends said he was born at
+Frankfort, the most Gallic town beyond the river Rhine.
+
+He had just completed an important line of railway from Morocco to the
+centre of our colony in Algeria, and now he was promoting a company for
+exporting grain and flour from America. Several times Cayrol had tried
+to bring Herzog and Madame Desvarennes together. The banker had an
+interest in the grain and flour speculation, but he asserted that it
+would not succeed unless the mistress had a hand in it. Cayrol had a
+blind faith in the mistress's luck.
+
+Madame Desvarennes, suspicious of everything foreign, and perfectly
+acquainted with the rumors circulated respecting Herzog, had always
+refused to receive him. But Cayrol had been so importunate that, being
+quite tired of refusing, and, besides, being willing to favor Cayrol for
+having so discreetly managed the negotiations of Micheline's marriage,
+she had consented.
+
+Herzog had just arrived. He was expressing to Madame Desvarennes his
+delight at being admitted to her house. He had so often heard her highly
+spoken of that he had formed a high idea of her, but one which was,
+however, far below the reality; he understood now that it was an honor
+to be acquainted with her. He wheedled her with German grace, and with a
+German-Jewish accent, which reminds one of the itinerant merchants, who
+offer you with persistence "a goot pargain."
+
+The mistress had been rather cold at first, but Herzog's amiability had
+thawed her. This man, with his slow speech and queer eyes, produced a
+fascinating effect on one like a serpent. He was repugnant, and yet, in
+spite of one's self one was led on. He, had at once introduced the grain
+question, but in this he found himself face to face with the real Madame
+Desvarennes; and no politeness held good on her part when it was a
+question of business. From his first words, she had found a weak
+point in the plan, and had attacked him with such plainness that the
+financier, seeing his enterprise collapse at the sound of the mistress's
+voice-like the walls of Jericho at the sound of the Jewish trumpets--had
+beaten a retreat, and had changed the subject.
+
+He was about to float a credit and discount company superior to any in
+the world. He would come back and talk with Madame Desvarennes about it,
+because she ought to participate in the large profits which the matter
+promised. There was no risk. The novelty of the undertaking consisted
+in the concurrence of the largest banking-houses of France and abroad,
+which would hinder all competition, and prevent hostility on the part
+of the great money-handlers. It was very curious, and Madame Desvarennes
+would feel great satisfaction in knowing the mechanism of this company,
+destined to become, from the first, the most important in the world, and
+yet most easy to understand.
+
+Madame Desvarennes neither said "Yes" nor "No." Moved by the soft
+and insinuating talkativeness of Herzog, she felt herself treading on
+dangerous ground. It seemed to her that her foot was sinking, as in
+those dangerous peat-mosses of which the surface is covered with green
+grass, tempting one to run on it. Cayrol was under the charm. He drank
+in the German's words. This clever man, who had never till then been
+duped, had found his master in Herzog.
+
+Pierre and Marechal had come nearer, and Madame Desvarennes, profiting
+by this mingling of groups, introduced the men to each other. On hearing
+the name of Pierre Delarue, Herzog looked thoughtful, and asked if the
+young man was the renowned engineer whose works on the coast of Africa
+had caused so much talk in Europe? On Madame Desvarennes replying in the
+affirmative, he showered well-chosen compliments on Pierre. He had had
+the pleasure of meeting Delarue in Algeria, when he had gone over to
+finish the railroad in Morocco.
+
+But Pierre had stepped back on learning that the constructor of that
+important line was before him.
+
+"Ah! is it you, sir, who carried out that job?" said he. "Faith! you
+treated those poor Moors rather hardly!"
+
+He remembered the misery of the poor natives employed by Europeans who
+superintended the work. Old men, women, and children were placed at the
+disposal of the contractors by the native authorities, to dig up and
+remove the soil; and these poor wretches, crushed with hard work, and
+driven with the lash by drunken overseers--who commanded them with a
+pistol in hand--under a burning sun, inhaled the noxious vapors arising
+from the upturned soil, and died like flies. It was a terrible sight,
+and one that Pierre could not forget.
+
+But Herzog, with his cajoling sweetness, protested against this
+exaggerated picture. Delarue had arrived during the dog-days--a bad
+time. And then, it was necessary for the work to be carried on without
+delay. Besides, a few Moors, more or less--what did it matter? Negroes,
+all but monkeys!
+
+Marechal, who had listened silently until then, interrupted the
+conversation, to defend the monkeys in the name of Littre. He had framed
+a theory, founded on Darwin, and tending to prove that men who despised
+monkeys despised themselves. Herzog, a little taken aback by this
+unexpected reply, had looked at Marechal slyly, asking himself if it
+was a joke. But, seeing Madame Desvarennes laugh, he recovered his
+self-possession. Business could not be carried on in the East as in
+Europe. And then, had it not always been thus? Had not all the great
+discoverers worked the countries which they discovered? Christopher
+Columbus, Cortez--had they not taken riches from the Indians, in
+exchange for the civilization which they brought them? He (Herzog)
+had, in making a railway in Morocco, given the natives the means
+of civilizing themselves. It was only fair that it should cost them
+something.
+
+Herzog uttered his tirade with all the charm of which he was capable; he
+looked to the right and to the left to notice the effect. He saw nothing
+but constrained faces. It seemed as if they were expecting some one
+or something. Time was passing; ten o'clock had just struck. From the
+little boudoir sounds of music were occasionally heard, when Micheline's
+nervous hand struck a louder chord on her piano. She was there,
+anxiously awaiting some one or something. Jeanne de Cernay, stretched in
+an easy-chair, her head leaning on her hand, was dreaming.
+
+During the past three weeks the young girl had changed. Her bright wit
+no longer enlivened Micheline's indolent calmness; her brilliant eyes
+were surrounded by blue rings, which denoted nights passed without
+sleep. The change coincided strangely with Prince Panine's departure for
+England, and the sending of the letter which recalled Pierre to Paris.
+Had the inhabitants of the mansion been less occupied with their own
+troubles, they would no doubt have noticed this sudden change, and have
+sought to know the reason. But the attention of all was concentrated on
+the events which had already troubled them, and which would no doubt be
+yet more serious to the house, until lately so quiet.
+
+The visitors' bell sounded, and caused Micheline to rise. The blood
+rushed to her cheeks. She whispered, "It is he!" and, hesitating, she
+remained a moment leaning on the piano, listening vaguely to the sounds
+in the drawing-room. The footman's voice announcing the visitor reached
+the young girls:
+
+"Prince Panine."
+
+Jeanne also rose then, and if Micheline had turned round she would
+have been frightened at the pallor of her companion. But Mademoiselle
+Desvarennes was not thinking of Mademoiselle de Cernay; she had just
+raised the heavy door curtain, and calling to Jeanne, "Are you coming?"
+passed into the drawing-room:
+
+It was indeed Prince Serge, who was expected by Cayrol with impatience,
+by Madame Desvarennes with silent irritation, by Pierre with deep
+anguish. The handsome prince, calm and smiling, with white cravat and
+elegantly fitting dress-coat which showed off his fine figure, advanced
+toward Madame Desvarennes before whom he bowed. He seemed only to have
+seen Micheline's mother. Not a look for the two young girls or the men
+who were around him. The rest of the universe did not seem to count.
+He bent as if before a queen, with a dash of respectful adoration. He
+seemed to be saying:
+
+"Here I am at your feet; my life depends on you; make a sign and I shall
+be the happiest of men or the most miserable."
+
+Micheline followed him with eyes full of pride; she admired his haughty
+grace and his caressing humility. It was by these contrasts that Serge
+had attracted the young girl's notice. She felt herself face to face
+with a strange nature, different from men around her, and had become
+interested in him. Then he had spoken to her, and his sweet penetrating
+voice had touched her heart.
+
+What he had achieved with Micheline he longed to achieve with her
+mother. After placing himself at the feet of the mother of her whom he
+loved, he sought the road to her heart. He took his place beside the
+mistress and spoke. He hoped that Madame Desvarennes would excuse the
+haste of his visit. The obedience which he had shown in going away
+must be a proof to her of his submission to her wishes. He was her most
+devoted and respectful servant. He resigned himself to anything she
+might exact of him.
+
+Madame Desvarennes listened to that sweet voice; she had never heard
+it so full of charm. She understood what influence this sweetness had
+exercised over Micheline; she repented not having watched over her more
+carefully, and cursed the hour that had brought all this evil upon them.
+She was obliged, however, to answer him. The mistress went straight to
+the point. She was not one to beat about the bush when once her mind was
+made up.
+
+"You come, no doubt, sir, to receive an answer to the request you
+addressed to me before your departure for England!"
+
+The Prince turned slightly pale. The words which Madame Desvarennes was
+about to pronounce were of such importance to him that he could not help
+feeling moved. He answered, in a suppressed tone:
+
+"I would not have dared to speak to you on the subject, Madame,
+especially in public; but since you anticipate my desire, I admit I am
+waiting with deep anxiety for one word from you which will decide my
+fate."
+
+He continued bent before Madame Desvarennes like a culprit before his
+judge. The mistress was silent for a moment, as if hesitating before
+answering, and then said, gravely:
+
+"That word I hesitated to pronounce, but some one in whom I have great
+confidence has advised me to receive you favorably."
+
+"He, Madame, whoever he may be, has gained my everlasting gratitude."
+
+"Show it to him," said Madame Desvarennes; "he is the companion of
+Micheline's young days, almost a son to me."
+
+And turning toward Pierre, she pointed him out to Panine.
+
+Serge took three rapid strides toward Pierre, but quick as he had been
+Micheline was before him. Each of the lovers seized a hand of
+Pierre, and pressed it with tender effusion. Panine, with his Polish
+impetuosity, was making the most ardent protestations to Pierre--he
+would be indebted to him for life.
+
+Micheline's late betrothed, with despair in his heart, allowed his
+hands to be pressed and wrung in silence. The voice of her whom he loved
+brought tears to his eyes.
+
+"How generous and good you are!" said the young girl, "how nobly you
+have sacrificed yourself!"
+
+"Don't thank me," replied Pierre; "I have no merit in accomplishing what
+you admire. I am weak, you see, and I could not bear to see you suffer."
+
+There was a great commotion in the drawing-room. Cayrol was explaining
+to Herzog, who was listening with great attention, what was taking
+place. Serge Panine was to be Madame Desvarennes's son-in-law. It was a
+great event.
+
+"Certainly," said the German; "Madame Desvarennes's son-in-law will
+become a financial power. And a Prince, too. What a fine name for a
+board of directors!"
+
+The two financiers looked at each other for a moment; the same thought
+had struck them.
+
+"Yes, but," replied Cayrol, "Madame Desvarennes will never allow Panine
+to take part in business."
+
+"Who knows?" said Herzog. "We shall see how the marriage settlements are
+drawn up."
+
+"But," cried Cayrol, "I would not have it said that I was leading Madame
+Desvarennes's son-in-law into speculations."
+
+"Who is speaking of that?" replied Herzog, coldly. "Am I seeking
+shareholders? I have more money than I want; I refuse millions every
+day."
+
+"Oh, I know capitalists run after you," said Cayrol, laughingly; "and
+to welcome them you affect the scruples of a pretty woman. But let us go
+and congratulate the Prince."
+
+While Cayrol and Herzog were exchanging those few words which had such a
+considerable influence on the future of Serge Panine--a scene, terrible
+in its simplicity, was going on without being noticed. Micheline had
+thrown herself with a burst of tenderness into her mother's arms.
+Serge was deeply affected by the young girl's affection for him, when
+a trembling hand touched his arm. He turned round. Jeanne de Cernay was
+before him, pale and wan; her eyes sunken into her head like two black
+nails, and her lips tightened by a violent contraction. The Prince stood
+thunderstruck at the sight of her. He looked around him. Nobody was
+observing him. Pierre was beside Marechal, who was whispering those
+words which only true friends can find in the sad hours of life.
+Madame Desvarennes was holding Micheline in her arms. Serge approached
+Mademoiselle de Cernay. Jeanne still fixed on him the same menacing
+look. He was afraid.
+
+"Take care!" he said.
+
+"Of what?" asked the young girl, with a troubled voice. "What have I to
+fear now?"
+
+"What do you wish?" resumed Panine, with old firmness, and with a
+gesture of impatience.
+
+"I wish to speak with you immediately."
+
+"You see that is impossible."
+
+"I must."
+
+Cayrol and Herzog approached. Serge smiled at Jeanne with a sign of the
+head which meant "Yes." The young girl turned away in silence, awaiting
+the fulfilment of the promise made.
+
+Cayrol took her by the hand with tender familiarity.
+
+"What were you saying to the happy man who has gained the object of his
+dreams, Mademoiselle? It is not to him you must speak, but to me, to
+give me hope. The moment is propitious; it is the day for betrothals.
+You know how much I love you; do me the favor of no longer repulsing me
+as you have done hitherto! If you would be kind, how charming it would
+be to celebrate the two weddings on the same day. One church, one
+ceremony, one splendid feast would unite two happy couples. Is there
+nothing in this picture to entice you?"
+
+"I am not easily enticed, as you know," said Jeanne, in a firm voice,
+trying to smile.
+
+Micheline and Madame Desvarennes had drawn near.
+
+"Come, Cayrol," said Serge, in a tone of command; "I am happy to-day;
+perhaps I may succeed in your behalf as I have done in my own. Let me
+plead your cause with Mademoiselle de Cernay?"
+
+"With all my heart. I need an eloquent pleader," sighed the banker,
+shaking his head sadly.
+
+"And you, Mademoiselle, will you submit to the trial?" asked the Prince,
+turning toward Jeanne. "We have always been good friends, and I shall
+be almost a brother to you. This gives me some right over your mind and
+heart, it seems to me. Do you authorize me to exercise it?"
+
+"As you like, sir," answered Jeanne, coldly. "The attempt is novel. Who
+knows? Perhaps it will succeed!"
+
+"May Heaven grant it," said Cayrol. Then, approaching Panine:
+
+"Ah! dear Prince, what gratitude I shall owe you! You know," added he in
+a whisper, "if you need a few thousand louis for wedding presents--"
+
+"Go, go, corrupter!" replied Serge, with the same forced gayety; "you
+are flashing your money in front of us. You see it is not invincible, as
+you are obliged to have recourse to my feeble talents. But know that I
+am working for glory."
+
+And turning toward Madame Desvarennes he added: "I only ask a quarter of
+an hour."
+
+"Don't defend yourself too much," said Micheline in her companion's ear,
+and giving her a tender kiss which the latter did not return.
+
+"Come with me," said Micheline to Pierre, offering him her arm; "I want
+to belong to you alone while Serge is pleading with Jeanne. I will be
+your sister as formerly. If you only knew how I love you!"
+
+The large French window which led to the garden had just been opened
+by Marechal, and the mild odors of a lovely spring night perfumed the
+drawing-room. They all went out on the lawn. Thousands of stars were
+twinkling in the sky, and the eyes of Micheline and Pierre were lifted
+toward the dark blue heavens seeking vaguely for the star which presided
+over their destiny. She, to know whether her life would be the long poem
+of love of which she dreamed; he, to ask whether glory, that exacting
+mistress for whom he had made so many sacrifices, would at least comfort
+him for his lost love.
+
+
+
+
+BOOK 2.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII. JEANNE'S SECRET
+
+In the drawing-room Jeanne and Serge remained standing, facing each
+other. The mask had fallen from their faces; the forced smile had
+disappeared. They looked at each other attentively, like two duellists
+seeking to read each other's game, so that they may ward off the fatal
+stroke and prepare the decisive parry.
+
+"Why did you leave for England three weeks ago, without seeing me and
+without speaking to me?"
+
+"What could I have said to you?" replied the Prince, with an air of
+fatigue and dejection.
+
+Jeanne flashed a glance brilliant as lightning:
+
+"You could have told me that you had just asked for Micheline's hand!"
+
+"That would have been brutal!"
+
+"It would have been honest! But it would have necessitated an
+explanation, and you don't like explaining. You have preferred leaving
+me to guess this news from the acts of those around me, and the talk of
+strangers."
+
+All these words had been spoken by Jeanne with feverish vivacity. The
+sentences were as cutting as strokes from a whip. The young girl's
+agitation was violent; her cheeks were red, and her breathing was hard
+and stifled with emotion. She stopped for a moment; then, turning toward
+the Prince, and looking him full in the face, she said:
+
+"And so, this marriage is decided?"
+
+Serge answered,
+
+"Yes."
+
+It was fainter than a whisper. As if she could not believe it, Jeanne
+repeated:
+
+"You are going to marry Micheline?"
+
+And as Panine in a firmer voice answered again, "Yes!" the young girl
+took two rapid steps and brought her flushed face close to him.
+
+"And I, then?" she cried with a violence she could no longer restrain.
+
+Serge made a sign. The drawing-room window was still open, and from
+outside they could be heard.
+
+"Jeanne, in mercy calm yourself," replied he. "You are in a state of
+excitement."
+
+"Which makes you uncomfortable?" interrupted the young girl mockingly.
+
+"Yes, but for your sake only," said he, coldly.
+
+"For mine?"
+
+"Certainly. I fear your committing an imprudence which might harm you."
+
+"Yes; but you with me! And it is that only which makes you afraid."
+
+The Prince looked at Mademoiselle de Cernay, smilingly. Changing his
+tone, he took her hand in his.
+
+"How naughty you are to-night! And what temper you are showing
+toward poor Serge! What an opinion he will have of himself after your
+displaying such a flattering scene of jealousy!"
+
+Jeanne drew away her hand.
+
+"Ah, don't try to joke. This is not the moment, I assure you. You don't
+exactly realize your situation. Don't you understand that I am prepared
+to tell Madame Desvarennes everything--"
+
+"Everything!" said the Prince. "In truth, it would not amount to much.
+You would tell her that I met you in England; that I courted you, and
+that you found my attentions agreeable. And then? It pleases you to
+think too seriously of that midsummer night's dream under the great
+trees of Churchill Castle, and you reproach me for my errors! But what
+are they? Seriously, I do not see them! We lived in a noisy world; where
+we enjoyed the liberty which English manners allow to young people. Your
+aunt found no fault with the charming chatter which the English call
+flirtation. I told you I loved you; you allowed me to think that I was
+not displeasing to you. We, thanks to that delightful agreement, spent
+a most agreeable summer, and now you do not wish to put an end to that
+pleasant little excursion made beyond the limits drawn by our Parisian
+world, so severe, whatever people say about it. It is not reasonable,
+and it is imprudent. If you carry out your menacing propositions, and if
+you take my future mother-in-law as judge of the rights which you
+claim, don't you understand that you would be condemned beforehand? Her
+interests are directly opposed to yours. Could she hesitate between her
+daughter and you?"
+
+"Oh! your calculations are clever and your measures were well taken,"
+replied Jeanne. "Still, if Madame Desvarennes were not the woman you
+think her--" Then, hesitating:
+
+"If she took my part, and thinking that he who was an unloyal lover
+would be an unfaithful husband--she would augur of the future of her
+daughter by my experience; and what would happen?"
+
+"Simply this," returned Serge. "Weary of the precarious and hazardous
+life which I lead, I would leave for Austria, and rejoin the service. A
+uniform is the only garb which can hide poverty honorably."
+
+Jeanne looked at him with anguish; and making an effort said:
+
+"Then, in any case, for me it is abandonment?" And falling upon a seat,
+she hid her face in her hands. Panine remained silent for a moment. The
+young girl's, grief, which he knew to be sincere, troubled him more than
+he wished to show. He had loved Mademoiselle de Cernay, and he loved her
+still. But he felt that a sign of weakness on his part would place him
+at Jeanne's mercy, and that an avowal from his lips at this grave moment
+meant a breaking-off of his marriage with Micheline. He hardened himself
+against his impressions, and replied, with insinuating sweetness:
+
+"Why do you speak of desertion, when a good man who loves you fondly,
+and who possesses a handsome fortune, wishes to marry you?"
+
+Mademoiselle de Cernay raised her head, hastily.
+
+"So, it is you who advise me to marry Monsieur Cayrol? Is there nothing
+revolting to you in the idea that I should follow your advice? But then,
+you deceived me from the first moment you spoke to me. You have never
+loved me even for a day! Not an hour!"
+
+Serge smiled, and resuming his light, caressing tone, replied:
+
+"My dear Jeanne, if I had a hundred thousand francs a year, I give you
+my word of honor that I would not marry another woman but you, for you
+would make an adorable Princess."
+
+Mademoiselle de Cernay made a gesture of perfect indifference.
+
+"Ah! what does the title matter to me?" she exclaimed, with passion.
+"What I want is you! Nothing but you!"
+
+"You do not know what you ask. I love you far too much to associate you
+with my destiny. If you knew that gilded misery, that white kid-gloved
+poverty, which is my lot, you would be frightened, and you would
+understand that in my resolution to give you up there is much of
+tenderness and generosity. Do you think it is such an easy matter to
+give up a woman so adorable as you are? I resign myself to it, though.
+
+"What could I do with my beautiful Jeanne in the three rooms in the Rue
+de Madame where I live? Could I, with the ten or twelve thousand francs
+which I receive through the liberality of the Russian Panines, provide
+a home? I can hardly make it do for myself. I live at the club, where I
+dine cheaply. I ride my friends' horses! I never touch a card, although
+I love play. I go much in society; I shine there, and walk home to save
+the cost of a carriage. My door-keeper cleans my rooms and keeps my
+linen in order. My private life is sad, dull, and humiliating. It is
+the black chrysalis of the bright butterfly which you know. That is what
+Prince Panine is, my dear Jeanne. A gentleman of good appearance, who
+lives as carefully as an old maid. The world sees him elegant and
+happy, and its envies his luxury; but this luxury is as deluding
+as watch-chains made of pinchbeck. You understand now that I cannot
+seriously ask you to share such an existence."
+
+But if, with this sketch of his life, correctly described, Panine
+thought to turn the young girl against him, he was mistaken. He had
+counted without considering Jeanne's sanguine temperament, which would
+lead her to make any sacrifices to keep the man she adored.
+
+"If you were rich, Serge," she said, "I would not have made an effort
+to bring you back to me. But you are poor and I have a right to tell you
+that I love you. Life with you would be all devotedness and self-denial.
+Each pain endured would be a proof of love, and that is why I wish to
+suffer. Your life with mine would be neither sad nor humiliated; I
+would make it sweet by my tenderness, and bright by my happiness. And we
+should be so happy that you would say, 'How could I ever have dreamed of
+anything else?'"
+
+"Alas! Jeanne," replied the Prince; "it is a charming and poetic idyl
+which you present to me. We should flee far from the world, eh? We
+should go to an unknown spot and try to regain paradise lost. How long
+would that happiness last? A season during the springtime of our youth.
+Then autumn would come, sad and harsh. Our illusions would vanish like
+the swallows in romances, and we should find, with alarm, that we had
+taken the dream of a day for eternal happiness! Forgive my speaking
+plain words of disenchantment," added Serge, seeing Jeanne rising
+abruptly, "but our life is being settled at this moment. Reason alone
+should guide us."
+
+"And I beseech you to be guided only by your heart," cried Mademoiselle
+de Cernay, seizing the hands of the Prince, and pressing them with her
+trembling fingers. "Remember that you loved me. Say that you love me
+still!"
+
+Jeanne had drawn near to Serge. Her burning face almost touched his. Her
+eyes, bright with excitement, pleaded passionately for a tender look.
+She was most fascinating, and Panine, usually master of himself, lost
+his presence of mind for a moment. His arms encircled the shoulders of
+the adorable pleader, and his lips were buried in the masses of her dark
+hair.
+
+"Serge!" cried Mademoiselle de Cernay, clinging to him whom she loved so
+fondly.
+
+But the Prince was as quickly calmed as he had been carried away. He
+gently put Jeanne aside.
+
+"You see," he said with a smile, "how unreasonable we are and how easily
+we might commit an irreparable folly. And yet our means will not allow
+us."
+
+"In mercy do not leave me!" pleaded Jeanne, in a tone of despair. "You
+love me! I feel it; everything tells me so! And you would desert me
+because you are poor and I am not rich. Is a man ever poor when he has
+two arms? Work."
+
+The word was uttered by Jeanne with admirable energy. She possessed the
+courage to overcome every difficulty.
+
+Serge trembled. For the second time he felt touched to the very soul
+by this strange girl. He understood that he must not leave her with the
+slightest hope of encouragement, but throw ice on the fire which was
+devouring her.
+
+"My dear Jeanne," he said, with affectionate sweetness, "you are talking
+nonsense. Remember this, that for Prince Panine there are only three
+social conditions possible: to be rich, a soldier, or a priest. I have
+the choice. It is for you to decide."
+
+This put an end to Mademoiselle de Cernay's resistance. She felt how
+useless was further argument, and falling on a sofa, crushed with grief,
+cried:
+
+"Ah! this time it is finished; I am lost!"
+
+Panine, then, approaching her, insinuating and supple, like the serpent
+with the first woman, murmured in her ear, as if afraid lest his words,
+in being spoken aloud, would lose their subtle venom:
+
+"No, you are not lost. On the contrary, you are saved, if you will
+only listen to and understand me. What are we, you and I? You, a child
+adopted by a generous woman; I, a ruined nobleman. You live in luxury,
+thanks to Madame Desvarennes's liberality. I can scarcely manage to keep
+myself with the help of my family. Our present is precarious, our future
+hazardous. And, suddenly, fortune is within our grasp. We have only to
+stretch out our hands, and with one stroke we gain the uncontested power
+which money brings!
+
+"Riches, that aim of humanity! Do you understand? We, the weak and
+disdained, become strong and powerful. And what is necessary to gain
+them? A flash of sense; a minute of wisdom; forget a dream and accept a
+reality."
+
+Jeanne waited till he had finished. A bitter smile played on her lips.
+Henceforth she would believe in no one. After listening to what Serge
+had just said, she could listen to anything.
+
+"So," said she, "the dream is love; the reality is interest. And is it
+you who speak thus to me? You, for whom I was prepared to endure any
+sacrifice! You, whom I would have served on my knees! And what reason do
+you give to justify your conduct? Money! Indispensable and stupid money!
+Nothing but money! But it is odious, infamous, low!"
+
+Serge received this terrible broadside of abuse without flinching. He
+had armed himself against contempt, and was deaf to all insults. Jeanne
+went on with increasing rage:
+
+"Micheline has everything: family, fortune, and friends, and she is
+taking away my one possession--your love. Tell me that you love her! It
+will be more cruel but less vile! But no, it is not possible! You
+gave way to temptation at seeing her so rich; you had a feeling of
+covetousness, but you will become yourself again and will act like an
+honest man. Think, that in my eyes you are dishonoring yourself! Serge,
+answer me!"
+
+She clung to him again, and tried to regain him by her ardor, to
+warm him with her passion. He remained unmoved, silent, and cold. Her
+conscience rebelled.
+
+"Well, then," said she, "marry her."
+
+She remained silent and sullen, seeming to forget he was there. She was
+thinking deeply. Then she walked wildly up and down the room, saying:
+
+"So, it is that implacable self-interest with which I have just come in
+contact, which is the law of the world, the watchword of society! So, in
+refusing to share the common folly, I risk remaining in isolation, and
+I must be strong to make others stand in awe of me. Very well, then, I
+shall henceforth act in such a manner as to be neither dupe nor victim.
+In future, everything will be: self, and woe to him who hinders me. That
+is the morality of the age, is it not?"
+
+And she laughed nervously.
+
+"Was I not stupid? Come, Prince, you have made me clever. Many thanks
+for the lesson; it was difficult, but I shall profit by it."
+
+The Prince, astonished at the sudden change, listened to Jeanne with
+stupor. He did not yet quite understand.
+
+"What do you intend to do?" asked he.
+
+Jeanne looked at him with a fiendish expression. Her eyes sparkled like
+stars; her white teeth shone between her lips.
+
+"I intend," replied she, "to lay the foundation of my power, and to
+follow your advice, by marrying a millionaire!"
+
+She ran to the window, and, looking out toward the shady garden, called:
+
+"Monsieur Cayrol!"
+
+Serge, full of surprise, and seized by a sudden fit of jealousy, went
+toward her as if to recall her.
+
+"Jeanne," said he, vaguely holding out his arms.
+
+"Well! what is it?" she asked, with crushing haughtiness. "Are you
+frightened at having gained your cause so quickly?"
+
+And as Serge did not speak:
+
+"Come," added she, "you will have a handsome fee; Micheline's dower will
+be worth the trouble you have had."
+
+They heard Cayrol's hurried steps ascending the stairs.
+
+"You have done me the honor to call me, Mademoiselle," said he,
+remaining on the threshold of the drawing-room. "Am I fortunate enough
+at length to have found favor in your eyes?"
+
+"Here is my hand," said Mademoiselle de Cernay, simply tendering him her
+white taper fingers, which he covered with kisses.
+
+Madame Desvarennes had come in behind the banker. She uttered a joyous
+exclamation.
+
+"Cayrol, you shall not marry Jeanne for her beauty alone. I will give
+her a dower."
+
+Micheline fell on her companion's neck. It was a concert of
+congratulations. But Jeanne, with a serious air, led Cayrol aside:
+
+"I wish to act honestly toward you, sir; I yield to the pleading of
+which I am the object. But you must know that my sentiments do not
+change so quickly. It is my hand only which I give you today."
+
+"I have not the conceitedness to think that you love me, Mademoiselle,"
+said Cayrol, humbly. "You give me your hand; it will be for me to gain
+your heart, and with time and sincere affection I do not despair of
+winning it. I am truly happy, believe me, for the favor you do me, and
+all my life long shall be spent in proving my gratitude to you."
+
+Jeanne was moved; she glanced at Cayrol, and did not think him so
+common-looking as usual. She resolved to do all in her power to like
+this good man.
+
+Serge, in taking leave of Madame Desvarennes, said:
+
+"In exchange for all the happiness which you give me, I have only my
+life to offer; accept it, Madame, it is yours."
+
+The mistress looked at the Prince deeply; then, in a singular tone,
+said:
+
+"I accept it; from to-day you belong to me."
+
+Marechal took Pierre by the arm and led him outside.
+
+"The Prince has just uttered words which remind me of Antonio saying to
+the Jew in 'The Merchant of Venice': 'Thy ducats in exchange for a
+pound of my flesh.' Madame Desvarennes loves her daughter with a more
+formidable love than Shylock had for his gold. The Prince will do well
+to be exact in his payments of the happiness which he has promised."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII. A PLEASANT UNDERSTANDING
+
+The day following this memorable evening, Pierre left for Algeria,
+notwithstanding the prayers of Madame Desvarennes who wished to keep him
+near her. He was going to finish his labors. He promised to return
+in time for the wedding. The mistress, wishing to give him some
+compensation, offered him the management of the mills at Jouy, saying:
+
+"So that if you are not my son, you will be at least my partner. And if
+I do not leave you all my money at my death, I can enrich you during my
+life."
+
+Pierre would not accept. He would not have it said that in wishing to
+marry Micheline he had tried to make a speculation. He wished to leave
+that house where he had hoped to spend his life, empty-handed, so that
+no one could doubt that it was the woman he loved in Micheline and not
+the heiress. He had been offered a splendid appointment in Savoy as
+manager of some mines; he would find there at the same time profit and
+happiness, because there were interesting scientific studies to be made
+in order to enable him to carry on the work creditably. He resolved to
+throw himself heart and soul into the work and seek forgetfulness in
+study.
+
+In the mansion of the Rue Saint-Dominique the marriage preparations were
+carried on with great despatch. On the one side the Prince, and on
+the other Cayrol, were eager for the day: the one because he saw the
+realization of his ambitious dreams, the other because he loved so
+madly. Serge, gracious and attentive, allowed himself to be adored by
+Micheline, who was never weary of listening to and looking at him whom
+she loved. It was a sort of delirium that had taken possession of the
+young girl. Madame Desvarennes looked on the metamorphosis in her child
+with amazement. The old Micheline, naturally indolent and cold, just
+living with the indolence of an odalisque stretched on silk cushions,
+had changed into a lively, loving sweetheart, with sparkling eyes and
+cheerful lips. Like those lowers which the sun causes to bloom and be
+fragrant, so Micheline under a look from Serge became animated and grown
+handsomer.
+
+The mother looked on with bitterness; she spoke of this transformation
+in her child with ironical disdain, She was sure Micheline was not in
+earnest; only a doll was capable of falling in love so foolishly with a
+man for his personal beauty. For to her mind the Prince was as regards
+mental power painfully deficient. No sense, dumb as soon as the
+conversation took a serious turn, only able to talk dress like a woman,
+or about horses like a jockey. And it was such a person upon whom
+Micheline literally doted! The mistress felt humiliated; she dared not
+say anything to her daughter, but she relieved herself in company of
+Marechal, whose discretion she could trust, and whom she willingly
+called the tomb of her secrets.
+
+Marechal listened patiently to the confidences of Madame Desvarennes,
+and he tried to fight against the growing animosity of the mistress
+toward her future son-in-law. Not that he liked the Prince--he was too
+much on Pierre's side to be well disposed toward Panine; but with his
+good sense he saw that Madame Desvarennes would find it advantageous to
+overcome her feeling of dislike. And when the mistress, so formidable
+toward everybody except her daughter, cried with rage:
+
+"That Micheline! I have just seen her again in the garden, hanging on
+the arm of that great lanky fellow, her eyes fixed on his like a lark
+fascinated by a looking-glass. What on earth has happened to her that
+she should be in such a state?"
+
+Marechal interrupted her gently.
+
+"All fair people are like that," he affirmed with ironical gayety. "You
+cannot understand it, Madame; you are dark."
+
+Then Madame Desvarennes became angry.
+
+"Be quiet," she said, "you are stupid! She ought to have a shower-bath!
+She is mad!"
+
+As for Cayrol he lived in ecstasy, like an Italian kneeling before a
+madonna. He had never been so happy; he was overwhelmed with joy. Until
+then, he had only thought of business matters. To be rich was the aim
+of his life; and now he was going to work for happiness. It was all
+pleasure for him. He was not blase; he amused himself like a child,
+adorning the rooms which were to be occupied by Jeanne. To his mind
+nothing was too expensive for the temple of his goddess, as he said,
+with a loud laugh which lighted up his whole face. And when he spoke of
+his love's future nest, he exclaimed, with a voluptuous shiver:
+
+"It is charming; a veritable little paradise!" Then the financier shone
+through all, and he added:
+
+"And I know what it costs!"
+
+But he did not grudge his money. He knew he would get the interest of
+it back. On one subject he was anxious--Mademoiselle de Cernay's health.
+Since the day of their engagement, Jeanne had become more serious and
+dull. She had grown thin and her eyes were sunken as if she wept in
+secret. When he spoke of his fears to Madame Desvarennes, the latter
+said:
+
+"These young girls are so senseless. The notion of marriage puts them in
+such an incomprehensible state! Look at my daughter. She chatters like
+a magpie and skips about like a kid. She has two glow-worms under her
+eyelids! As to Jeanne, that's another affair; she has the matrimonial
+melancholy, and has the air of a young victim. Leave them alone; it
+will all come right. But you must admit that the gayety of the one is at
+least as irritating as the languor of the other!"
+
+Cayrol, somewhat reassured by this explanation, and thinking, like her,
+that it was the uncertainties of marriage which were troubling Jeanne,
+no longer attached any importance to her sad appearance. Micheline and
+Serge isolated themselves completely. They fled to the garden as soon as
+any one ventured into the drawing room, to interrupt their tete-a-tete.
+If visitors came to the garden they took refuge in the conservatory.
+
+This manoeuvre pleased Serge, because he always felt uncomfortable in
+Jeanne's presence. Mademoiselle de Cernay had a peculiar wrinkle on her
+brow whenever she saw Micheline passing before her hanging on the arm of
+the Prince, which tormented him. They were obliged to meet at table in
+the evening, for Serge and Cayrol dined at the Rue Saint-Dominique. The
+Prince talked in whispers to Micheline, but every now and then he was
+obliged to speak to Jeanne. These were painful moments to Serge. He
+was always in dread of some outburst, knowing her ardent and passionate
+nature. Thus, before Jeanne, he made Micheline behave in a less
+demonstrative manner. Mademoiselle Desvarennes was proud of this
+reserve, and thought it was tact and good breeding on the part of the
+Prince, without doubting that what she thought reserve in the man of the
+world was the prudence of an anxious lover.
+
+Jeanne endured the tortures of Hades. Too proud to say anything after
+the explanation she had had with Serge, too much smitten to bear calmly
+the sight of her rival's happiness, she saw draw near with deep horror
+the moment when she would belong to the man whom she had determined to
+marry although she did not love him. She once thought of breaking off
+the engagement; as she could not belong to the man whom she adored, at
+least she could belong to herself. But the thought of the struggle she
+would have to sustain with those who surrounded her, stopped her. What
+would she do at Madame Desvarennes's? She would have to witness the
+happiness of Micheline and Serge. She would rather leave the house.
+
+With Cayrol at least she could go away; she would be free, and perhaps
+the esteem which she would surely have for her husband would do instead
+of love. Sisterly or filial love, in fact the least affection, would
+satisfy the poor man, who was willing to accept anything from Jeanne.
+And she would not have that group of Serge and Micheline before her
+eyes, always walking round the lawn and disappearing arm in arm down
+the narrow walks. She would not have the continual murmur of their
+love-making in her ears, a murmur broken by the sound of kisses when
+they reached shady corners.
+
+One evening, when Serge appeared in the little drawing-room of the Rue
+Saint-Dominique, he found Madame Desvarennes alone. She looked serious,
+as if same important business were pending. She stood before the
+fireplace; her hands crossed behind her back like a man. Apparently,
+she had sought to be alone. Cayrol, Jeanne, and Micheline were in
+the garden. Serge felt uneasy. He had a presentiment of trouble. But
+determined to make the best of it, whatever it might be, he looked
+pleasant and bowed to Madame Desvarennes, without his face betraying his
+uneasiness.
+
+"Good-day, Prince; you are early this evening, though not so early as
+Cayrol; but then he does not quite know what he is doing now. Sit down,
+I want to talk to you. You know that a young lady like Mademoiselle
+Desvarennes cannot get married without her engagement being much talked
+about. Tongues have been very busy, and pens too. I have heard a lot of
+scandal and have received heaps of anonymous letters about you."
+
+Serge gave a start of indignation.
+
+"Don't be uneasy," continued the mistress. "I did not heed the tales,
+and I burned the letters. Some said you were a dissolute man, capable
+of anything to gain your object. Others insinuated that you were not a
+Prince, that you were not a Pole, but the son of a Russian coachman and
+a little dressmaker of Les Ternes; that you had lived at the expense of
+Mademoiselle Anna Monplaisir, the star of the Varietes Theatre, and that
+you were bent on marrying to pay your debts with my daughter's money."
+
+Panine, pale as death, rose up and said, in a stifled voice:
+
+"Madame!"
+
+"Sit down, my dear child," interrupted the mistress. "If I tell you
+these things, it is because I have the proofs that they are untrue.
+Otherwise, I would not have given myself the trouble to talk to you
+about them. I would have shown you the door and there would have been
+an end of it. Certainly, you are not an angel; but the peccadillos which
+you have been guilty of are those which one forgives in a son, and which
+in a son-in-law makes some mothers smile. You are a Prince, you are
+handsome, and you have been loved. You were then a bachelor; and it was
+your own affair. But now, you are going to be, in about ten days, the
+husband of my daughter, and it is necessary for us to make certain
+arrangements. Therefore, I waited to see you, to speak of your wife, of
+yourself, and of me."
+
+What Madame Desvarennes had just said relieved Serge of a great weight.
+He felt so happy that he resolved to do everything in his power to
+please the mother of his betrothed.
+
+"Speak, Madame," he exclaimed. "I am listening to you with attention
+and confidence. I am sure that from you I can only expect goodness and
+sense."
+
+The mistress smiled.
+
+"Oh, I know you have a gilt tongue, my handsome friend, but I don't pay
+myself with words, and I, am not easy to be wheedled."
+
+"Faith," said Serge, "I won't deceive you. I will try to please you with
+all my heart."
+
+Madame Desvarennes's face brightened as suddenly at these words as a
+landscape, wrapped in a fog, which is suddenly lighted up by the sun.
+
+"Then we shall understand each other," she said. "For the last fortnight
+we have been busy with marriage preparations, and have not been able
+to think or reason. Everybody is rambling about here. Still, we are
+commencing a new life, and I think it is as well to lay the foundation.
+I seem to be drawing up a contract, eh? What can I do? It is an old
+business habit. I like to know how I stand."
+
+"I think it is quite right. I think, too, that you have acted with great
+delicacy in not imposing your conditions upon me before giving your
+consent."
+
+"Has that made you feel better disposed toward me? So much the better!"
+said the mistress. "Because you know that I depend on my daughter, who
+will henceforth depend on you, and it is to my interest that I should be
+in your good graces."
+
+In pronouncing these words with forced cheerfulness, Madame
+Desvarennes's voice trembled slightly. She knew what an important game
+she was playing, and wished to win it at any price.
+
+"You see," continued she, "I am not an easy woman to deal with. I am a
+little despotic, I know. I have been in the habit of commanding during
+the last thirty-five years. Business was heavy, and required a strong
+will. I had it, and the habit is formed. But this strong will, which has
+served me so well in business will, I am afraid, with you, play me
+some trick. Those who have lived with me a long time know that if I am
+hot-headed I have a good heart. They submit to my tyranny; but you who
+are a newcomer, how will you like it?"
+
+"I shall do as the others do," said Serge, simply. "I shall be led,
+and with pleasure. Think that I have lived for years without kindred,
+without ties--at random; and, believe me, any chain will be light and
+sweet which holds me to any one or anything. And then," frankly added
+he, changing his tone and looking at Madame Desvarennes with tenderness,
+"if I did not do everything to please you I should be ungrateful."
+
+"Oh!" cried Madame Desvarennes, "unfortunately that is not a reason."
+
+"Would you have a better one?" said the young man, in his most charming
+accent. "If I had not married your daughter for her own sake, I believe
+that I should have married her for yours." Madame Desvarennes was quite
+pleased, and shaking her finger threateningly at Serge, said:
+
+"Ah, you Pole, you boaster of the North!"
+
+"Seriously," continued Serge, "before I knew I was to be your
+son-in-law, I thought you a matchless woman. Add to the admiration I had
+for your great qualities the affection which your goodness has inspired,
+and you will understand that I am both proud and happy to have such a
+mother as you."
+
+Madame Desvarennes looked at Panine attentively; she saw he was sincere.
+Then, taking courage, she touched the topic of greatest interest to her.
+"If that is the case, you will have no objections to live with me?" She
+stopped; then emphasized the words, "With me."
+
+"But was not that understood?" asked Serge, gayly' "I thought so. You
+must have seen that I have not been seeking a dwelling for my wife and
+myself. If you had not made the offer to me, I should have asked you to
+let me stay with you."
+
+Madame Desvarennes broke into such an outburst of joy that she
+astonished Panine. It was then only that in that pallor, in that sudden
+trembling, in that changed voice, he understood, the immensity of the
+mother's love for her daughter.
+
+"I have everything to gain by that arrangement," continued he. "My wife
+will be happy at not leaving you, and you will be pleased at my not
+having taken away your daughter. You will both like me better, and that
+is all I wish."
+
+"How good you are in deciding thus, and how I thank you for it," resumed
+Madame Desvarennes. "I feared you would have ideas of independence."
+
+"I should have been happy to sacrifice them to you, but I have not even
+that merit."
+
+All that Serge had said had been so open and plain, and expressed with
+such sweetness that, little by little, Madame Desvarennes's prejudices
+disappeared. He took possession of her as he had done of Micheline,
+and as he did of every one whom he wished to conquer. His charm was
+irresistible. He seized on one by the eyes and the ears. Naturally
+fascinating, moving, captivating, bold, he always preserved his artless
+and tender ways, which made him resemble a young girl.
+
+"I am going to tell you how we shall manage," said the mistress.
+"Foreseeing my daughter's marriage, I have had my house divided into
+two distinct establishments. They say that life in common with a
+mother-in-law is objectionable to a son-in-law, therefore I wish you
+to have a home of your own. I know that an old face like mine frightens
+young lovers. I will come to you when you invite me. But even when I
+am shut up in my own apartments I shall be with my daughter; I shall
+breathe the same air; I shall hear her going and coming, singing,
+laughing, and I shall say to myself, 'It is all right, she is happy.'
+That is all I ask. A little corner, whence I can share her life."
+
+Serge took her hand with effusion.
+
+"Don't be afraid; your daughter will not leave you."
+
+Madame Desvarennes, unable to contain her feelings, opened her arms, and
+Serge fell on her breast, like a true son.
+
+"Do you know, I am going to adore you!" cried Madame Desvarennes,
+showing Panine a face beaming with happiness.
+
+"I hope so," said the young man, gayly.
+
+Madame Desvarennes became thoughtful.
+
+"What a strange thing life is!" resumed she. "I did not want you for a
+son-in-law, and now you are behaving so well toward me that I am full
+of remorse. Oh, I see now what a dangerous man you are, if you captivate
+other women's hearts as you have caught mine."
+
+She looked at the Prince fixedly, and added, in her clear commanding
+voice, with a shade of gayety:
+
+"Now, I hope you will reserve all your powers of charming for my
+daughter. No more flirting, eh? She loves you; she would be jealous,
+and you would get into hot water with me! Let Micheline's life be happy,
+without a cloud-blue, always blue sky!"
+
+"That will be easy," said Serge. "To be unhappy I should have to seek
+misfortune; and I certainly shall not do that."
+
+He began to laugh.
+
+"Besides, your good friends who criticised so when you gave me
+Micheline's hand would be only too pleased. I will not give them the
+pleasure of posing as prophets and saying, 'We knew it would be so!'"
+
+"You must forgive them," replied Madame Desvarennes. "You have made
+enemies. Without speaking of projects which I had formed, I may say that
+my daughter has had offers from the best folks in Paris; from first-rate
+firms! Our circle was rather indignant.
+
+"People said: 'Oh, Madame Desvarennes wanted her daughter to be a
+Princess. We shall see how it will turn out. Her son-in-law will spend
+her money and spurn her.' The gossip of disappointed people. Give them
+the lie; manage that we shall all live together, and we shall be right
+against the world."
+
+"Do you hope it will be so?"
+
+"I am sure of it," answered the mistress, affectionately pressing the
+hand of her future son-in-law.
+
+Micheline entered, anxious at the long interview between Serge and her
+mother. She saw them hand in hand. She uttered a joyful cry, and threw
+her arms caressingly round her mother's neck.
+
+"Well! you are agreed?" she said, making a gracious sign to Serge.
+
+"He has been charming," replied Madame Desvarennes, whispering in
+her daughter's ear. "He agrees to live in this house, and that quite
+gracefully. There, child, this is the happiest moment I've had since
+your engagement. I admit that I regret nothing."
+
+Then, resuming aloud:
+
+"We will leave to-morrow for Cernay, where the marriage shall take
+place. I shall have to order the workmen in here to get ready for your
+reception. Besides the wedding will be more brilliant in the country. We
+shall have all the work-people there. We will throw the park open to
+the countryside; it will be a grand fete. For we are lords of the manor
+there," added she, with pride.
+
+"You are right, mamma; it will be far better," exclaimed Micheline. And
+taking Serge by the hand:
+
+"Come, let us go," said she, and led him into the garden.
+
+And amid the sweet-smelling shrubs they resumed their walk, always the
+same yet ever new, their arms twined round each other, the young girl
+clinging to him whom she loved, and he looking fondly at her, and with
+caressing voice telling her the oft-told tale of love which she was
+never tired of hearing, and which always filled her with thrills of joy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX. THE DOUBLE MARRIAGE
+
+The Chateau of Cernay is a vast and beautiful structure of the time of
+Louis XIII. A walled park of a hundred acres surrounds it, with trees
+centuries old. A white painted gate separates the avenue from the road
+leading to Pontoise by way of Conflans. A carpet of grass, on which
+carriages roll as if on velvet, leads up to the park gates. Before
+reaching, it there is a stone bridge which spans the moat of running
+water. A lodge of stone, faced with brick, with large windows, rises at
+each corner of this space.
+
+The chateau, surrounded by cleverly arranged trees, stands in the
+centre, on a solid foundation of red granite from the Jura. A splendid
+double staircase leads to the ground floor as high as an 'entresol'. A
+spacious hall, rising to the roof of the building, lighted by a window
+filled with old stained glass, first offers itself to the visitor. A
+large organ, by Cavallie-Col, rears its long brilliant pipes at one end
+of the hall to a level with the gallery of sculptured wood running round
+and forming a balcony on the first floor. At each corner is a knight
+in armor, helmet on head, and lance in hand, mounted on a charger, and
+covered with the heavy trappings of war. Cases full of objects of art of
+great value, bookshelves containing all the new books, are placed along
+the walls. A billiard-table and all sorts of games are lodged under
+the vast staircase. The broad bays which give admission to the
+reception-rooms and grand staircase are closed by tapestry of the
+fifteenth century, representing hunting scenes. Long cords of silk and
+gold loop back these marvellous hangings in the Italian style. Thick
+carpets, into which the feet sink, deaden the sound of footsteps.
+Spacious divans, covered with Oriental materials, are placed round the
+room.
+
+Over the chimney-piece, which is splendidly carved in woodwork, is a
+looking-glass in the Renaissance style, with a bronze and silver frame,
+representing grinning fawns and dishevelled nymphs. Benches are placed
+round the hearth, which is large enough to hold six people. Above
+the divans, on the walls, are large oil-paintings by old masters. An
+"Assumption," by Jordaens, which is a masterpiece; "The Gamesters," by
+Valentin; "A Spanish Family on Horseback," painted by Velasquez; and the
+marvel of the collection--a "Holy Family," by Francia, bought in Russia.
+Then, lower down, "A Young Girl with a Canary," by Metzu; a "Kermesse,"
+by Braurver, a perfect treasure, glitter, like the gems they are, in the
+midst of panoplies, between the high branches of palm-trees planted in
+enormous delft vases. A mysterious light filters into that fresh and
+picturesque apartment through the stained-glass windows.
+
+From the hall the left wing is reached, where the reception-rooms are,
+and one's eyes are dazzled by the brightness which reigns there. It is
+like coming out from a cathedral into broad daylight. The furniture, of
+gilt wood and Genoese velvet, looks very bright. The walls are white
+and gold; and flowers are everywhere. At the end is Madame Desvarennes's
+bedroom, because she does not like mounting stairs, and lives on
+the ground floor. Adjoining it is a conservatory, furnished as a
+drawing-room, and serving as a boudoir for the mistress of the house.
+
+The dining-room, the gun-room, and the smoking-room are in the right
+wing. The gun-room deserves a particular description. Four glass cases
+contain guns of every description and size of the best English and
+French manufacture. All the furniture is made of stags' horns, covered
+with fox-skins and wolf-skins. A large rug, formed by four bears' skins,
+with menacing snouts, showing their white teeth at the four corners,
+is in the centre of the room. On the walls are four paintings by
+Princeteau, admirably executed, and representing hunting scenes. Low
+couches, wide as beds, covered with gray cloth, invite the sportsmen to
+rest. Large dressing-rooms, fitted up with hot and cold water, invite
+them to refresh themselves with a bath. Everything has been done to suit
+the most fastidious taste. The kitchens are underground.
+
+On the first story are the principal rooms. Twelve bedrooms, with
+dressing-rooms, upholstered in chintz of charming design. From these,
+a splendid view of the park and country beyond may be obtained. In the
+foreground is a piece of water, bathing, with its rapid current, the
+grassy banks which border the wood, while the low-lying branches of
+the trees dip into the flood, on which swans, dazzlingly white, swim in
+stately fashion. Beneath an old willow, whose drooping boughs form
+quite a vault of pale verdure, a squadron of multicolored boats remain
+fastened to the balustrade of a landing stage. Through an opening in
+the trees you see in the distance fields of yellow corn, and in the near
+background, behind a row of poplars, ever moving like a flash of silver
+lightning, the Oise flows on between its low banks.
+
+This sumptuous dwelling, on the evening of the 14th of July, was in
+its greatest splendor. The trees of the park were lit up by brilliant
+Venetian lanterns; little boats glided on the water of the lake carrying
+musicians whose notes echoed through the air. Under a marquee, placed
+midway in the large avenue, the country lads and lasses were dancing
+with spirit, while the old people, more calm, were seated under the
+large trees enjoying the ample fare provided. A tremendous uproar of
+gayety reechoed through the night, and the sound of the cornet attracted
+the people to the ball.
+
+It was nine o'clock. Carriages were fast arriving with guests for the
+mansion. In the centre of the handsome hall, illuminated with electric
+light, stood Madame Desvarennes in full dress, having put off black
+for one day, doing honor to the arrivals. Behind her stood Marechal and
+Savinien, like two aides-de-camp, ready, at a sign, to offer their arms
+to the ladies, to conduct them to the drawing-rooms. The gathering was
+numerous. Merchant-princes came for Madame Desvarennes's sake; bankers
+for Cayrol's; and the aristocrats and foreign nobility for the Prince's.
+An assemblage as opposed in ideas as in manners: some valuing only
+money, others high birth; all proud and elbowing each other with haughty
+assurance, speaking ill of each other and secretly jealous.
+
+There were heirs of dethroned kings; princes without portions, who were
+called Highness, and who had not the income of their fathers' former
+chamberlains; millionaires sprung from nothing, who made a great
+show and who would have given half of their possessions for a single
+quartering of the arms of these great lords whom they affected to
+despise.
+
+Serge and Cayrol went from group to group; the one with his graceful and
+delicate elegance; the other with his good-humor, radiant and elated by
+the consciousness of his triumphs. Herzog had just arrived, accompanied
+by his daughter, a charming girl of sixteen, to whom Marechal had
+offered his arm. A whispering was heard when Herzog passed. He was
+accustomed to the effect which he produced in public, and quite calmly
+congratulated Cayrol.
+
+Serge had just introduced Micheline to Count Soutzko, a gray-haired old
+gentleman of military appearance, whose right sleeve was empty. He was
+a veteran of the Polish wars, and an old friend of Prince Panine's, at
+whose side he had received the wounds which had so frightfully mutilated
+him. Micheline, smiling, was listening to flattering tales which the old
+soldier was relating about Serge. Cayrol, who had got rid of Herzog,
+was looking for Jeanne, who had just disappeared in the direction of the
+terrace.
+
+The rooms were uncomfortably warm, and many of the visitors had found
+their way to the terraces. Along the marble veranda, overlooking the
+lake, chairs had been placed. The ladies, wrapped in their lace scarfs,
+had formed into groups and were enjoying the delights of the beautiful
+evening. Bursts of subdued laughter came from behind fans, while the
+gentlemen talked in whispers. Above all this whispering was heard the
+distant sound of the cornet at the peasants' ball.
+
+Leaning over the balustrade, in a shady corner, far from the noise which
+troubled him and far from the fete which hurt him, Pierre was dreaming.
+His eyes were fixed on the illuminations in the park, but he did not
+see them. He thought of his vanished hopes. Another was beloved by
+Micheline, and in a few hours he would take her away, triumphant
+and happy. A great sadness stole over the young man's spirit; he was
+disgusted with life and hated humanity. What was to become of him now?
+His life was shattered; a heart like his could not love twice, and
+Micheline's image was too deeply engraven on it for it ever to be
+effaced. Of what use was all the trouble he had taken to raise himself
+above others? A worthless fellow had passed that way and Micheline had
+yielded to him. Now it was all over!
+
+And Pierre asked himself if he had not taken a wrong view of things,
+and if it was not the idle and good-for-nothing fellows who were more
+prudent than he. To waste his life in superhuman works, to tire his mind
+in seeking to solve great problems, and to attain old age without other
+satisfaction than unproductive honors and mercenary rewards. Those who
+only sought happiness and joy--epicureans who drive away all care,
+all pain, and only seek to soften their existence, and brighten their
+horizon--were they not true sages? Death comes so quickly! And it is
+with astonishment that one perceives when the hour is at hand, that one
+has not lived! Then the voice of pride spoke to him: what is a man who
+remains useless, and does not leave one trace of his passage through the
+world by works or discoveries? And, in a state of fever, Pierre said to
+himself:
+
+"I will throw myself heart and soul into science; I will make my name
+famous, and I will make that ungrateful child regret me. She will
+see the difference between me and him whom she has chosen. She will
+understand that he is nobody, except by her money, whereas she would
+have been all by me."
+
+A hand was placed on his shoulder; and Marechal's affectionate voice
+said to him:
+
+"Well! what are you doing here, gesticulating like that?"
+
+Pierre turned round.
+
+Lost in his thoughts he had not heard his friend approaching.
+
+"All our guests have arrived," continued Marechal. "I have only just
+been able to leave them and to come to you. I have been seeking you for
+more than a quarter of an hour. You are wrong to hide yourself; people
+will make remarks. Come toward the house; it is as well to show yourself
+a little; people might imagine things which they must not imagine."
+
+"Eh! let them think what they like; what does it matter to me?" said
+Pierre, sadly. "My life is a blank."
+
+"Your life may be a blank; but it is your duty not to let any one
+perceive it. Imitate the young Spartan, who smiled although the fox,
+hidden under his cloak, was gnawing his vitals. Let us avoid ridicule,
+my friend. In society there is nothing that provokes laughter more than
+a disappointed lover, who rolls his eyes about and looks woe-begone.
+And, then, you-see, suffering is a human law; the world is an arena,
+life is a conflict. Material obstacles, moral griefs, all hinder and
+overwhelm us. We must go on, though, all the same, and fight. Those who
+give in are trodden down! Come, pull yourself together!"
+
+"And for whom should I fight now? A moment ago I was making projects,
+but I was a fool! All hope and ambition are dead in me."
+
+"Ambition will return, you may be sure! At present you are suffering
+from weariness of mind; but your strength will return. As to hope, one
+must never despair."
+
+"What can I expect in the future?"
+
+"What? Why, everything! In this world all sorts of things happen!" said
+Marechal, gayly. "Who is to prove that the Princess will not be a widow
+soon?"
+
+Pierre could not help laughing and said,
+
+"Come, don't talk such nonsense!"
+
+"My dear fellow," concluded Marechal, "in life it is only nonsense that
+is common-sense. Come and smoke a cigar."
+
+They traversed several groups of people and bent their steps in the
+direction of the chateau. The Prince was advancing toward the terrace,
+with an elegantly dressed and beautiful woman on his arm. Savinien, in
+the midst of a circle of dandies, was picking the passers-by to pieces
+in his easy-going way. Pierre and Marechal came behind these young men
+without being noticed.
+
+"Who is that hanging on the arm of our dear Prince?" asked a little fat
+man, girt in a white satin waistcoat, and a spray of white lilac in his
+buttonhole.
+
+"Eh! Why, Le Brede, my boy, you don't know anything!" cried Savinien in
+a bantering, jocose tone.
+
+"Because I don't know that lovely fair woman?" said Le Brede, in a
+piqued voice. "I don't profess to know the names of all the pretty women
+in Paris!"
+
+"In Paris? That woman from Paris? You have not looked at her. Come, open
+your eyes. Pure English style, my friend."
+
+The dandies roared with laughter. They had at once recognized the pure
+English style. They were not men to be deceived. One of them, a tall,
+dark fellow, named Du Tremblays, affected an aggrieved air, and said:
+
+"Le Brede, my dear fellow, you make us blush for you!"
+
+The Prince passed, smiling and speaking in a low voice to the beautiful
+Englishwoman, who was resting the tips of her white gloved fingers on
+her cavalier's arm.
+
+"Who is she?" inquired Le Brede, impatiently.
+
+"Eh, my dear fellow, it is Lady Harton, a cousin of the Prince. She is
+extremely rich, and owns a district in London."
+
+"They say that a year ago she was very kind to Serge Panine," added Du
+Tremblays, confidentially.
+
+"Why did he not marry her, then, since she is so rich? He has been quite
+a year in the market, the dear Prince."
+
+"She is married."
+
+"Oh, that is a good reason. But where is her husband?"
+
+"Shut up in a castle in Scotland. Nobody ever sees him. He is out of his
+mind; and is surrounded by every attention."
+
+"And a strait-waistcoat! Then why does not this pretty woman get a
+divorce?"
+
+"The money belongs to the husband."
+
+"Really!"
+
+Pierre and Marechal had listened, in silence, to this cool and yet
+terrible conversation. The group of young men dispersed. The two
+friends looked at each other. Thus, then, Serge Panine was judged by his
+companions in pleasure, by the frequenters of the clubs in which he
+had spent a part of his existence. The Prince being "in the market" was
+obliged to marry a rich woman. He could not marry Lady Harton, so he had
+sought Micheline. And the sweet child was the wife of such a man! And
+what could be done? She loved him!
+
+Madame Desvarennes and Micheline appeared on the terrace. Lady Harton
+pointed to the bride with her fan. The Prince, leaving his companion,
+advanced toward Micheline.
+
+"One of my English relatives, a Polish lady, married to Lord Harton,
+wishes to be introduced to you," said Serge. "Are you agreeable?"
+
+"With all my heart," replied the young wife, looking lovingly at her
+husband. "All who belong to you are dear to me, you know."
+
+The beautiful Englishwoman approached slowly.
+
+"The Princess Panine!" said Serge, gravely, introducing Micheline, who
+bowed gracefully. Then, with a shade of familiarity: "Lady Harton!"
+continued he, introducing his relative.
+
+"I am very fond of your husband, Madame," said the Englishwoman. "I hope
+you will allow me to love you also; and I beg you to grant me the favor
+of accepting this small remembrance."
+
+While speaking, she unfastened from her wrist a splendid bracelet with
+the inscription, Semper.
+
+Serge frowned and looked stern. Micheline, lowering her eyes, and awed
+by the Englishwoman's grandeur, timidly said:
+
+"I accept it, Madame, as a token of friendship."
+
+"I think I recognize this bracelet, Madame," observed Serge.
+
+"Yes; you gave it to me," replied Lady Harton, quietly. "Semper--I beg
+your pardon, Madame, we Poles all speak Latin--Semper means 'Always!' It
+is a great word. On your wife's arm this bracelet will be well placed.
+Au revoir, dear Prince. I wish you every happiness."
+
+And bowing to Micheline with a regal bow, Lady Harton took the arm of a
+tall young man whom she had beckoned, and walked away.
+
+Micheline, amazed, looked at the bracelet sparkling on her white wrist.
+Without uttering a word Serge unfastened it, took it off his wife's
+arm, and advancing on the terrace, with a rapid movement flung it in
+the water. The bracelet gleamed in the night-air and made a brilliant
+splash; then the water resumed its tranquillity. Micheline, astonished,
+looked at Serge, who came toward her, and very humbly said:
+
+"I beg your pardon."
+
+The young wife did not answer, but her eyes filled with tears; a smile
+brightened her lips, and hurriedly taking his arm, she led him into the
+drawing-room.
+
+Dancing was going on there. The young ladies of Pontoise, and the cream
+of Creil, had come to the fete, bent on not losing such an opportunity
+of enjoying themselves. Under the watchful eyes of their mothers,
+who, decked out in grand array, were seated along the walls, they were
+gamboling, in spite of the stifling heat, with all the impetuosity of
+young provincials habitually deprived of the pleasures of the ballroom.
+Crossing the room, Micheline and Serge reached Madame Desvarennes's
+boudoir.
+
+It was delightfully cool in there. Cayrol had taken refuge there
+with Jeanne, and Mademoiselle Susanne Herzog. This young girl felt
+uncomfortable at being a third party with the newly-married couple,
+and welcomed the arrival of the Prince and Micheline with pleasure. Her
+father had left her for a moment in Cayrol's care; but she had not seen
+him for more than an hour.
+
+"Mademoiselle," said the Prince, gayly, "a little while ago, when I
+was passing through the rooms, I heard these words: 'Loan, discount,
+liquidation.' Your father must have been there. Shall I go and seek
+him?"
+
+"I should be very grateful," said the young girl.
+
+"I will go."
+
+And turning lightly on his heels, happy to escape Jeanne's looks, Serge
+reentered the furnace. At once he saw Herzog seated in the corner of
+a bay-window with one of the principal stock-brokers of Paris. He was
+speaking. The Prince went straight up to him.
+
+"Sorry to draw you away from the sweets of conversation," said he,
+smiling; "but your daughter is waiting for you, and is anxious at your
+not coming."
+
+"Faith! My daughter, yes. I will come and see you tomorrow," said he to
+his companion. "We will talk over this association: there is much to be
+gained by it."
+
+The other, a man with a bloated face, and fair Dundreary whiskers, was
+eager to do business with him. Certainly the affair was good.
+
+"Oh, my dear Prince, I am happy to be alone with you for a moment!" said
+Herzog, with that familiarity which was one of his means of becoming
+intimate with people. "I was going to compliment you! What a splendid
+position you have reached."
+
+"Yes; I have married a charming woman," replied the Prince, coldly.
+
+"And what a fortune!" insisted the financier. "Ah, it is worthy of the
+lot of a great lord such as you are! Oh, you are like those masterpieces
+of art which need a splendidly carved frame! Well, you have your frame,
+and well gilt too!"
+
+He laughed and seemed pleased at Serge's happiness. He had taken one of
+his hands and was patting it softly between his own.
+
+"Not a very 'convenient' mother-in-law, for instance," he went on,
+good-naturedly; "but you are so charming! Only you could have, coaxed
+Madame Desvarennes, and you have succeeded. Oh! she likes you, my dear
+Prince; she told me so only a little while ago. You have won her heart.
+I don't know how you manage it, but you are irresistible! By the way, I
+was not there when the marriage contract was read, and I, forgot to ask
+Cayrol. Under what conditions are you married?"
+
+The Prince looked at Herzog with a look that was hardly friendly.
+But the financier appeared so indifferent, that Serge could not help
+answering him:
+
+"My wife's fortune is settled on herself."
+
+"Ah! ah! that is usual in Normandy!" replied Herzog with a grave look.
+"I was told Madame Desvarennes was a clever woman and she has proved it.
+And you signed the contract with your eyes shut, my dear Prince. It is
+perfect, just as a gentleman should do!"
+
+He said this with a good-natured air. Then, suddenly lifting his eyes,
+and with an ironical smile playing on his lips, he added:
+
+"You are bowled out, my dear fellow, don't you know?"
+
+"Sir!" protested Serge with haughtiness.
+
+"Don't cry out; it is too late, and would be useless," replied the
+financier. "Let me explain your position to you. Your hands are tied.
+You cannot dispose of a sou belonging to your wife without her consent.
+It is true, you have influence over her, happily for you. Still you must
+foresee that she will be guided by her mother. A strong woman, too, the
+mother! Ah, Prince, you have allowed yourself to be done completely. I
+would not have thought it of you."
+
+Serge, nonplussed for a moment, regained his self-possession, and looked
+Herzog in the face:
+
+"I don't know what idea you have formed of me, sir, and I don't know
+what object you have in speaking thus to me."
+
+"My interest in you," interrupted the financier. "You are a charming
+fellow: you please me much. With your tastes, it is possible that in a
+brief time you may be short of money. Come and see me: I will put you
+into the way of business. Au revoir, Prince."
+
+And without giving Serge time to answer him, Herzog reached the boudoir
+where his daughter was waiting with impatience. Behind him came the
+Prince looking rather troubled. The financier's words had awakened
+importunate ideas in his mind. Was it true that he had been duped
+by Madame Desvarennes, and that the latter, while affecting airs of
+greatness and generosity, had tied him like a noodle to her daughter's
+apron-string? He made an effort to regain his serenity.
+
+"Micheline loves me and all will be well," said he to himself.
+
+Madame Desvarennes joined the young married people. The rooms were
+clearing by degrees. Serge took Cayrol apart.
+
+"What are you going to do to-night, my dear fellow?
+
+"You know an apartment has been prepared for you here?"
+
+"Yes, I have already thanked Madame Desvarennes, but I mean to go back
+to Paris. Our little paradise is prepared for us, and I wish to enter it
+to-night. I have my carriage and horses here. I am taking away my wife
+post-haste."
+
+"That is an elopement," said Serge; gayly, "quite in the style of the
+regency!"
+
+"Yes, my dear Prince, that's how we bankers do it," said Cayrol,
+laughing.
+
+Then changing his tone:
+
+"See, I vibrate, I am palpitating. I am hot and cold by turns. Just
+fancy, I have never loved before; my heart is whole, and I love to
+distraction!"
+
+Serge instinctively glanced at Jeanne. She was seated, looking sad and
+tired.
+
+Madame Desvarennes, between Jeanne and Micheline, had her arms twined
+round the two young girls. Regret filled her eyes. The mother felt
+that the last moments of her absolute reign were near, and she was
+contemplating with supreme adoration these two children who had grown
+up around her like two fragile and precious flowers. She was saying to
+them,
+
+"Well, the great day is over. You are both married. You don't belong to
+me any longer. How I shall miss you! This morning I had two children,
+and now--"
+
+"You have four," interrupted Micheline. "Why do you complain?"
+
+"I don't complain," retorted Madame Desvarennes, quickly.
+
+"That's right!" said Micheline, gayly.
+
+Then going toward Jeanne:
+
+"But you are not speaking, you are so quiet; are you ill?"
+
+Jeanne shuddered, and made an effort to soften the hard lines on her
+face.
+
+"It is nothing. A little fatigue."
+
+"And emotion," added Micheline. "This morning when we entered the
+church, at the sound of the organ, in the midst of flowers, surrounded
+by all our friends, I felt that I was whiter than my veil. And the
+crossing to my place seemed so long, I thought I should never get there.
+I did so, though. And now everybody calls me 'Madame' and some call me
+'Princess.' It amuses me!"
+
+Serge had approached.
+
+"But you are a Princess," said he, smiling, "and everybody must call you
+so."
+
+"Oh, not mamma, nor Jeanne, nor you," said the young wife, quickly;
+"always call me Micheline. It will be less respectful, but it will be
+more tender."
+
+Madame Desvarennes could not resist drawing her daughter once more to
+her heart.
+
+"Dear child," she said with emotion, "you need affection, as flowers
+need the sun! But I love you, there."
+
+She stopped and added:
+
+"We love you."
+
+And she held out her hand to her son-in-law. Then changing the subject:
+
+"But I am thinking, Cayrol, as you are returning to Paris, you might
+take some orders for me which I will write out."
+
+"What? Business? Even on my wedding-day?" exclaimed Micheline.
+
+"Eh! my daughter, we must have flour," replied the mistress, laughing.
+"While we are enjoying ourselves Paris eats, and it has a famous
+appetite."
+
+Micheline, leaving her mother, went to her husband.
+
+"Serge, it is not yet late. Suppose we put in an appearance at the
+work-people's ball? I promised them, and the good folks will be so
+happy!"
+
+"As you please. I am awaiting your orders. Let us make ourselves
+popular!"
+
+Madame Desvarennes had gone to her room. Carol took the opportunity
+of telling his coachman to drive round by the park to the door of the
+little conservatory and wait there. Thus, his wife and he would avoid
+meeting any one, and would escape the leave-taking of friends and the
+curiosity of lookers-on.
+
+Micheline went up to Jeanne, and said:
+
+"As you are going away quietly, dear, I shall not see you again this
+evening. Adieu!"
+
+And with a happy smile, she kissed her. Then taking her husband's arm
+she led him toward the park.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X. CAYROL'S DISAPPOINTMENT
+
+Jeanne left alone, watched them as they disappeared with the light and
+easy movements of lovers.
+
+Serge, bending toward Micheline, was speaking tenderly. A rush of bitter
+feeling caused Jeanne's heart to swell. She was alone, she, while he
+whom she loved-her whole being revolted. Unhappy one! Why did she think
+of this man? Had she the right to do so now? She no longer belonged to
+herself. Another, who was as kind to her as Serge was ungrateful, was
+her husband. She thought thus in sincerity of heart. She wished to
+love Cayrol. Alas, poor Jeanne! She would load him with attentions and
+caresses! And Serge would be jealous, for he could never have forgotten
+her so soon.
+
+Her thoughts again turned to him whom she wished to forget. She made
+an effort, but in vain. Serge was uppermost; he possessed her. She was
+afraid. Would she never be able to break off the remembrance? Would his
+name be ever on her lips, his face ever before her eyes?
+
+Thank heaven! she was about to leave. Travelling, and the sight of
+strange places other than those where she had lived near Serge, would
+draw her attention from the persecution she suffered. Her husband was
+about to take her away, to defend her. It was his duty, and she would
+help him with energy. With all the strength of her will she summoned
+Cayrol. She clung violently to him as a drowning person catches at a
+straw, with the vigor of despair.
+
+There was between Jeanne and Cayrol a sympathetic communication.
+Mentally called by his wife, the husband appeared.
+
+"Ah! at last!" said she.
+
+Cayrol, surprised at this welcome, smiled. Jeanne, without noticing,
+added:
+
+"Well, Monsieur; are we leaving soon?"
+
+The banker's surprise increased. But as this surprise was decidedly an
+agreeable one he did not protest.
+
+"In a moment, Jeanne, dear," he said.
+
+"Why this delay?" asked the young wife, nervously.
+
+"You will understand. There are more than twenty carriages before the
+front door. Our coachman is driving round, and we will go out by the
+conservatory door without being seen."
+
+"Very well; we will wait."
+
+This delay displeased Jeanne. In the ardor of her resolution, in the
+first warmth of her struggle, she wished at once to put space between
+her and Serge. Unfortunately, Cayrol had thwarted this effort of proud
+revolt. She was vexed with him. He, without knowing the motives which
+actuated his wife, guessed that something had displeased her. He wished
+to change the current of her thoughts.
+
+"You were marvellously beautiful to-night," he said, approaching her
+gallantly. "You were much admired, and I was proud of you. If you had
+heard my friends! It was a concert of congratulations: What a fortunate
+fellow that Cayrol is! He is rich; he has a charming wife! You see,
+Jeanne, thanks to you, in the eyes of all, my happiness is complete."
+
+Jeanne frowned, and without answering, shook her head haughtily. Cayrol
+continued, without noticing this forecast of a storm:
+
+"They envy me; and I can understand it! I would not change places with
+anybody. There, our friend Prince Panine is very happy; he has married
+a woman whom he loves and who adores him. Well, he is not happier than I
+am!"
+
+Jeanne rose abruptly, and gave her husband a terrible look.
+
+"Monsieur!" she cried with rage.
+
+"I beg your pardon," said Cayrol, humbly; "I appear ridiculous to you,
+but my happiness is stronger than I am, and I cannot hide my joy. You
+will see that I can be grateful. I will spend my life in trying to
+please you. I have a surprise for you to begin with."
+
+"What kind of surprise?" asked Jeanne, with indifference.
+
+Cayrol rubbed his hands with a mysterious air. He was enjoying
+beforehand the pleasant surprise he had in store for his wife.
+
+"You think we are going to Paris to spend our honeymoon like ordinary
+folk?"
+
+Jeanne started. Cayrol seemed unfortunate in his choice of words.
+
+"Well, not at all," continued the banker. "Tomorrow I leave my offices.
+My customers may say what they like; I will leave my business, and we
+are off."
+
+Jeanne showed signs of pleasure. A flash of joy lit up her face. To go
+away, that was rest for her!
+
+"And where shall we go?"
+
+"That is the surprise! You know that the Prince and his wife intend
+travelling!"
+
+"Yes; but they refused to say where they were going;" interrupted
+Jeanne, with a troubled expression.
+
+"Not to me. They are going to Switzerland. Well, we shall join them
+there."
+
+Jeanne arose like a startled deer when it hears the sound of a gun.
+
+"Join them there!" she exclaimed.
+
+"Yes; to continue the journey together. A party of four; two
+newly-married couples. It will be charming. I spoke to Serge on the
+subject. He objected at first, but the Princess came to my assistance.
+And when he saw that his wife and I were agreed, he commenced to laugh,
+and said: 'You wish it? I consent. Don't say anything more!' It is
+all very well to talk of love's solitude; in about a fortnight, passed
+tete-a-tete, Serge will be glad to have us. We will go to Italy to see
+the lakes; and there, in a boat, all four, of us will have such pleasant
+times."
+
+Cayrol might have gone on talking for an hour, but Jeanne was not
+listening. She was thinking. Thus all the efforts which she had
+decided to make to escape from him whom she loved would be useless. An
+invincible fatality ever brought her toward him whom she was seeking
+to avoid. And it was her husband who was aiding this inevitable
+and execrable meeting. A bitter smile played on her lips. There was
+something mournfully comic in this stubbornness of Cayrol's, in throwing
+her in the way of Serge.
+
+Cayrol, embarrassed by Jeanne's silence, waited a moment.
+
+"What is the matter?" he asked. "You are just like the Prince when I
+spoke to him on the subject."
+
+Jeanne turned away abruptly. Cayrol's comparison was too direct. His
+blunders were becoming wearisome.
+
+The banker, quite discomfited on seeing the effect of his words,
+continued:
+
+"You object to this journey? If so, I am willing to give it up."
+
+The young wife was touched by this humble servility.
+
+"Well, yes," she said, softly, "I should be grateful to you."
+
+"I had hoped to please you," said Cayrol. "It is for me to beg pardon
+for having succeeded so badly. Let us remain in Paris. It does not
+matter to me what place we are in! Being near to you is all I desire."
+
+He approached her, and, with beaming eyes, added:
+
+"You are so beautiful, Jeanne; and I have loved you so long a time!"
+
+She moved away, full of a vague dread. Cayrol, very excitedly, put her
+cloak round her shoulders, and looking toward the door, added:
+
+"The carriage is there, we can go now."
+
+Jeanne, much troubled, did not rise.
+
+"Wait another minute," said she.
+
+Cayrol smiled constrainedly:
+
+"A little while ago you were hurrying me off."
+
+It was true. But a sudden change had come over Jeanne. Her energy had
+given way. She felt very weary. The idea of going away with Cayrol,
+and of being alone with him in the carriage frightened her. She looked
+vaguely at her husband, and saw, in a sort of mist, this great fat man,
+with a protruding shirt-front, rolls of red flesh on his neck above his
+collar, long fat ears which only needed gold ear-rings, and his great
+hairy hands, on the finger of one of which shone the new wedding-ring.
+Then, in a rapid vision, she beheld the refined profile, the beautiful
+blue eyes, and the long, fair mustache of Serge. A profound sadness came
+over the young woman, and tears rushed to her eyes.
+
+"What is the matter with you? You are crying!" exclaimed Cayrol,
+anxiously.
+
+"It is nothing; my nerves are shaken. I am thinking of this chateau
+which bears my name. Here I spent my youth, and here my father died. A
+thousand ties bind me to this dwelling, and I cannot leave it without
+being overcome."
+
+"Another home awaits you, luxuriantly adorned," murmured Cayrol, "and
+worthy of receiving you. It is there you will live henceforth with me,
+happy through me, and belonging to me."
+
+Then, ardently supplicating her, he added:
+
+"Let us go, Jeanne!"
+
+He tried to take her in his arms, but the young wife disengaged herself.
+
+"Leave me alone!" she said, moving away.
+
+Cayrol looked at her in amazement.
+
+"What is it? You are trembling and frightened!"
+
+He tried to jest:
+
+"Am I so very terrible, then? Or is it the idea of leaving here that
+troubles you so much? If so, why did you not tell me sooner? I can
+understand things. Let us remain here for a few days, or as long as
+you like. I have arranged my affairs so as to be at liberty. Our little
+paradise can wait for us."
+
+He spoke pleasantly, but with an undercurrent of anxiety.
+
+Jeanne came slowly to him, and calmly taking his hand, said:
+
+"You are very good."
+
+"I am not making any efforts to be so," retorted Cayrol, smiling. "What
+do I ask? That you may be happy and satisfied."
+
+"Well, do you wish to please me?" asked the young wife.
+
+"Yes!" exclaimed Cayrol, warmly, "tell me how."
+
+"Madame Desvarennes will be very lonely tomorrow when her daughter will
+be gone. She will need consoling--"
+
+"Ah, ah," said Cayrol, thinking that he understood, "and you would
+like--"
+
+"I would like to remain some time with her. You could come every day and
+see us. I would be very grateful to you, and would love you very much!"
+
+"But--but--but--!" exclaimed Cayrol, much confounded, "you cannot mean
+what you say, Jeanne! What, my dear? You wish me to return alone to
+Paris to-night? What would my servants say? You would expose me to
+ridicule!"
+
+Poor Cayrol made a piteous face. Jeanne looked at him as she had never
+looked before. It made his blood boil.
+
+"Would you be so very ridiculous for having been delicate and tender?"
+
+"I don't see what tenderness has to do with it," cried Cayrol; "on the
+contrary! But I love you. You don't seem to think it!"
+
+"Prove it," replied Jeanne, more provokingly.
+
+This time Cayrol lost all patience.
+
+"Is it in leaving you that I shall prove it? Really, Jeanne, I am
+disposed to be kind and to humor your whims, but on condition that they
+are reasonable. You seem to be making fun of me! If I give way on such
+important points on the day of our marriage, whither will you lead me?
+No; no! You are my wife. The wife must follow her husband; the law says
+so!"
+
+"Is it by law only that you wish to keep me? Have you forgotten what I
+told you when you made me an offer of marriage? It is my hand only which
+I give you."
+
+"And I answered you, that it would be my aim to gain your heart. Well,
+but give me the means. Come, dear," said the banker in a resolute tone,
+"you take me for a child. I am not so simple as that! I know what this
+resistance means; charming modesty so long as it is not everlasting."
+
+Jeanne turned away without answering. Her face had changed its
+expression; it was hard and determined.
+
+"Really," continued Cayrol, "you would make a saint lose patience. Come,
+answer me, what does this attitude mean?"
+
+The young wife remained silent. She felt she could not argue any longer,
+and seeing no way out of her trouble, felt quite discouraged. Still she
+would not yield. She shuddered at the very idea of belonging to this
+man; she had never thought of the issue of this brutal and vulgar
+adventure. Now that she realized it, she felt terribly disgusted.
+
+Cayrol anxiously watched the increasing anguish depicted on his wife's
+face. He had a presentiment that she was hiding something from him, and
+the thought nearly choked him. And, with this suspicion, his ingenuity
+came to his aid. He approached Jeanne, and said, affectionately:
+
+"Come, dear child, we are misleading one another; I in speaking too
+harshly, you in refusing to understand me. Forget that I am your
+husband; see in me only a friend and open your heart; your resistance
+hides a mystery. You have had some grief or have been deceived."
+
+Jeanne, softened, said, in a low tone:
+
+"Don't speak to me like that; leave me."
+
+"No," resumed Cayrol, quietly, "we are beginning life; there must be no
+misunderstanding. Be frank, and you will find me indulgent. Come, young
+girls are often romantic. They picture an ideal; they fall in love with
+some one who does not return their love, which is sometimes even unknown
+to him who is their hero. Then, suddenly, they have to return to a
+reality. They find themselves face to face with a husband who is not
+the expected Romeo, but who is a good man, devoted, loving, and ready to
+heal the wounds he has not made. They are afraid of this husband; they
+mistrust him, and will not follow him. It is wrong, because it is
+near him, in honorable and right existence, that they find peace and
+forgetfulness."
+
+Cayrol's heart was torn by anxiety, and with trembling voice he tried to
+read the effect of his words on Jeanne's features. She had turned away.
+Cayrol bent toward her and said:
+
+"You don't answer me."
+
+And as she still remained silent, he took her hand and forced her to
+look at him. He saw that her face was covered with tears. He shuddered,
+and then flew into a terrible passion.
+
+"You are crying! It is true then? You have loved?"
+
+Jeanne rose with a bound; she saw her imprudence. She understood the
+trap he had laid; her cheeks burned. Drying her tears, she turned toward
+Cayrol, and cried:
+
+"Who has said so?"
+
+"You cannot deceive me," replied the banker, violently. "I saw it in
+your looks. Now, I want to know the man's name!"
+
+Jeanne looked him straight in the face.
+
+"Never!" she said.
+
+"Ah, that is an avowal!" exclaimed Cayrol.
+
+"You have deceived me unworthily by your pretended kindness,"
+interrupted Jeanne, proudly, "I will not say anything more."
+
+Cayrol flew at her--the churl reappeared. He muttered a fearful oath,
+and seizing her by the arm, shouted:
+
+"Take care! Don't play with me. Speak, I insist, or--" and he shook her
+brutally.
+
+Jeanne, indignant, screamed and tore herself away from him.
+
+"Leave me," she said, "you fill me with horror!"
+
+The husband, beside himself, pale as death and trembling convulsively,
+could not utter a word, and was about to rush upon her when the door
+opened, and Madame Desvarennes appeared, holding in her hand the letters
+which she had written for Cayrol to take back to Paris. Jeanne uttered a
+cry of joy, and with a bound threw herself into the arms of her who had
+been a mother to her.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI. CONFESSION
+
+Madame Desvarennes understood the situation at a glance. She beheld
+Cayrol livid, tottering, and excited. She felt Jeanne trembling on her
+breast; she saw something serious had occurred. She calmed herself and
+put on a cold manner to enable her the better to suppress any resistance
+that they might offer.
+
+"What is the matter?" she asked, looking severely at Cayrol.
+
+"Something quite unexpected," replied the banker, laughing nervously.
+"Madame refuses to follow me."
+
+"And for what reason?" she asked.
+
+"She dare not speak!" Cayrol resumed, whose excitement increased as he
+spoke. "It appears she has in her heart an unhappy love! And as I do not
+resemble the dreamed-of type, Madame has repugnances. But you understand
+the affair is not going to end there. It is not usual to come and say
+to a husband, twelve hours after marriage, 'Sir, I am very sorry, but I
+love somebody else!' It would be too convenient. I shall not lend myself
+to these whims."
+
+"Cayrol, oblige me by speaking in a lower tone," said Madame
+Desvarennes, quietly. "There is some misunderstanding between you and
+this child."
+
+The husband shrugged his broad shoulders.
+
+"A misunderstanding? Faith! I think so! You have a delicacy of language
+which pleases me! A misunderstanding! Say rather a shameful deception!
+But I want to know the gentleman's name. She will have to speak. I am
+not a scented, educated gentleman. I am a peasant, and if I have to--"
+
+"Enough," said Madame Desvarennes, sharply tapping with the tips of
+her fingers Cayrol's great fist which he held menacingly like a butcher
+about to strike. Then, taking him quietly aside toward the window, she
+added:
+
+"You are a fool to go on like this! Go to my room for a moment. To you,
+now, she will not say anything; to me she will confide all and we shall
+know what to do."
+
+Cayrol's face brightened.
+
+"You are right," he said. "Yes, as ever, you are right. You must excuse
+rile, I do not know how to talk to women. Rebuke her and put a little
+sense in her head. But don't leave her; she is fit to commit any folly."
+
+Madame Desvarennes smiled.
+
+"Be easy," she answered.
+
+And making a sign to Cayrol, who was leaving the room, she returned to
+Jeanne.
+
+"Come, my child, compose yourself. We are alone and you will tell me
+what happened. Among women we understand each other. Come, you were
+frightened, eh?"
+
+Jeanne was one petrified, immovable, and dumb, she fixed her eyes on a
+flower which was hanging from a vase. This red flower fascinated her.
+She could not take her eyes off it. Within her a persistent thought
+recurred: that of her irremediable misfortune. Madame Desvarennes looked
+at her for a moment; then, gently touching her shoulder, resumed;
+
+"Won't you answer me? Have you not confidence in me? Have I not brought
+you up? And if you are not born of me, have not the tenderness and care
+I have lavished upon you made me your real mother?"
+
+Jeanne did not answer, but her eyes filled with tears;
+
+"You know that I love you," continued the mistress. "Come, come to my
+arms as you used to do when you were little and were suffering. Place
+your head thereon my heart and let your tears flow. I see they are
+choking you."
+
+Jeanne could no longer resist, and falling on her knees beside Madame
+Desvarennes, she buried her face in the silky and scented folds of her
+dress like a frightened bird that flies to the nest and hides itself
+under the wings of its mother.
+
+This great and hopeless grief was to the mistress a certain proof that
+Cayrol was right. Jeanne had loved and still loved another man than
+her husband. But why had she not said anything, and why had she allowed
+herself to be married to the banker? She had resisted, she remembered
+now. She had struggled, and the refusals they had put down to pride they
+must now attribute to passion.
+
+She did not wish to be separated from him whom she loved. Hence the
+struggle that had ended in her abandoning her hand to Cayrol, perhaps
+in a moment of despair and discouragement. But why had he whom she loved
+not married her? What obstacle had arisen between him and the young
+girl? Jeanne, so beautiful, and dowered by Madame Desvarennes, who then
+could have hesitated to ask her hand?
+
+Perhaps he whom Jeanne loved was unworthy of her? No! She would not have
+chosen him. Perhaps he was not free to marry? Yes, it must be that.
+Some married man, perhaps! A scoundrel who did not mind breaking a young
+girl's heart! Where had she met him? In society at her house in the Rue
+Saint-Dominique, perhaps! Who could tell? He very likely still continued
+to come there. At the thought Madame Desvarennes grew angry. She wished
+to know the name of the man so that she might have an explanation with
+him, and tell him what she thought of his base conduct. The gentleman
+should have respectable, well-educated girls to trifle with, should he?
+And he risked nothing! He should be shown to the door with all honors
+due to his shameful conduct.
+
+Jeanne was still weeping silently at Madame Desvarennes's knee. The
+latter raised her head gently and wiped away the tears with her lace
+pocket-handkerchief.
+
+"Come, my child! all this deluge means nothing. You must make up your
+mind. I can understand your hiding anything from your husband, but not
+from me! What is your lover's name?"
+
+This question so simply put, threw a faint light on Jeanne's troubled
+brain. She saw the danger she was running. To speak before Madame
+Desvarennes! To tell the name of him who had been false to her! To
+her! Was it possible? In a moment she understood that she was about to
+destroy Micheline and Serge. Her conscience revolted and she would
+not. She raised herself and looking at Madame Desvarennes with still
+frightened eyes,
+
+"For pity's sake, forget my tears! Don't believe what my husband
+has told you. Never seek to know. Remain ignorant as you are on the
+subject!"
+
+"Then he whom you love is related to me, as: you wish to hide his name
+even from me," said Madame Desvarennes with instinctive anguish.
+
+She was silent. Her eyes became fixed. They looked without seeing. She
+was thinking.
+
+"I beseech you," cried Jeanne, madly placing her hands before Madame
+Desvarennes's face as if to check her scrutiny.
+
+"If I had a son," continued the mistress, "I would believe--" Suddenly
+she ceased speaking; she became pale, and bending toward Jeanne, she
+looked into her very soul.
+
+"Is it--" she began.
+
+"No! no!" interrupted Jeanne, terrified at seeing that the mistress had
+found out the truth.
+
+"You deny it before I have pronounced the name?" said Madame Desvarennes
+in a loud voice. "You read it then on my lips? Unhappy girl! The man
+whom you love is the husband of my daughter!"
+
+My daughter! The accent with which Madame Desvarennes pronounced the
+word "my" was full of tragical power. It revealed the mother capable
+of doing anything to defend the happiness of the child whom she
+adored. Serge had calculated well. Between Jeanne and Micheline, Madame
+Desvarennes would not hesitate. She would have allowed the world to
+crumble away to make of its ruins a shelter where her daughter would be
+joyous and happy.
+
+Jeanne had fallen back overwhelmed. The mistress raised her roughly.
+She had no more consideration for her. It was necessary that she should
+speak. Jeanne was the sole witness, and if the truth had to be got by
+main force she should be made to speak it.
+
+"Ah, forgive me!" moaned the young girl.
+
+"It is not a question of that! In one word, answer me: Does he love
+you?"
+
+"Do I know?"
+
+"Did he tell you he did?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And he has married Micheline!" exclaimed Madame Desvarennes, with a
+fearful gesture. "I distrusted him. Why did I not obey my instinct?"
+
+And she began walking about like a lioness in a cage. Then, suddenly
+stopping and placing herself before Jeanne, she continued:
+
+"You must help me to save Micheline!"
+
+She thought only of her own flesh and blood. Without hesitation,
+unconsciously, she abandoned the other--the child of adoption. She
+claimed the safety of her daughter as a debt.
+
+"What has she to fear?" asked Jeanne, bitterly. "She triumphs, as she is
+his wife."
+
+"If he were to abandon her," said the mother with anguish. Then,
+reflecting: "Still, he has sworn to me that he loved her."
+
+"He lied!" cried Jeanne, with rage. "He wanted Micheline for her
+fortune!"
+
+"But why that?" inquired Madame Desvarennes, menacingly. "Is she not
+pretty enough to have pleased him? Do you think that you are the only
+one to be loved?"
+
+"If I had been rich he would have married me!", replied Jeanne,
+exasperated.
+
+She had risen in revolt. They were treading too heavily on her. With a
+ferocious cry of triumph; she added:
+
+"The night he used his influence with me to get me to marry Cayrol, he
+assured me so on his word of honor!"
+
+"Honor!" ironically repeated Madame Desvarennes, overwhelmed. "How
+he has deceived us all! But what can I do? What course can I take? A
+separation? Micheline would not consent. She loves him."
+
+And, in an outburst of fury, she cried:
+
+"Is it possible that that stupid girl loves that worthless dandy? And
+she has my blood in her veins! If she knew the truth she would die!"
+
+"Am I dead?" asked Jeanne, gloomily.
+
+"You have an energetic nature," retorted the mistress, compassionately;
+"but she is so weak, so gentle! Ah! Jeanne, think what I have been to
+you; raise some insurmountable barrier between yourself and Serge!
+
+"Go back to your husband. You would not go with him a little while ago.
+It was folly. If you separate from Cayrol, you will not be able to keep
+away Serge, and you will take my daughter's husband from her!"
+
+"Ah! you think only of her! Her, always! She above all!" cried Jeanne,
+with rage. "But me, I exist, I count, I have the right to be protected,
+of being happy! And you wish me to sacrifice myself, to give myself up
+to this man, whom I do not love, and who terrifies me?"
+
+This time the question was plainly put. Madame Desvarennes became
+herself. She straightened her figure, and in her commanding voice whose
+authority no one resisted, said:
+
+"What then? You wish to be separated from him? To regain your liberty at
+the price of scandal? And what liberty? You will be repulsed, disdained.
+Believe me, impose silence on your heart and listen to your reason. Your
+husband is a good, loyal man. If you cannot love him, he will command
+your respect. In marrying him, you have entered into engagements toward
+him. Fulfil them; it is your duty."
+
+Jeanne felt overpowered and vanquished. "But what will my life be?" she
+groaned.
+
+"That of an honest woman," replied Madame Desvarennes, with true
+grandeur. "Be a wife; God will make you a mother, and you will be
+saved."
+
+Jeanne bowed herself at these words. She no longer felt in them the
+selfishness of the mother. What the mistress now said was sincere and
+true. It was no longer her agitated and alarmed heart that inspired her;
+it was her conscience, calm and sincere.
+
+"Very well; I will obey you," said the young wife, simply. "Kiss me
+then, mother."
+
+She bent her brow, and Madame Desvarennes let tears of gratitude and
+admiration fall on it. Then Jeanne went of her own accord to the room
+door.
+
+"Come, Monsieur," called she to Cayrol.
+
+The husband, grown cooler while waiting, and troubled at the length of
+the interview, showed his anxious face on the threshold. He saw Madame
+Desvarennes grave, and Jeanne collected. He dared not speak.
+
+"Cayrol, everything is explained," said the mistress. "You have nothing
+to fear from him whom you suspected. He is separated from Jeanne
+forever, And; besides, nothing has passed between him and her who is
+your wife that could arouse your jealousy. I will not tell you the name
+of this man now. But if perchance he by some impossibility reappeared
+and threatened your happiness, I would myself--you understand,
+me?--point him out to you!"
+
+Cayrol remained thinking for, a moment; then addressing Madame
+Desvarennes, replied:
+
+"It is well. I have confidence in you."
+
+Then turning toward Jeanne, he added:
+
+"Forgive me and let everything be forgotten."
+
+The mistress's face beamed with joy, as she followed their departing
+figures with her eyes, and murmured:
+
+"Brave hearts!"
+
+Then, changing her expression:
+
+"Now for the other one!" exclaimed she.
+
+And she went out on to the terrace.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII. THE FETE
+
+The air was mild, the night clear and bright. Cayrol's carriage rolled
+rapidly along the broad avenue of the park shadowed by tall trees,
+the lanterns throwing, as they passed, their quivering light on the
+thickets. The rumbling carriages took the last guests to the railway
+station. It was past midnight. A nightingale began singing his song of
+love to the stars.
+
+Madame Desvarennes mechanically stopped to listen. A sense of sorrow
+came over this mother who was a prey to the most cruel mental anguish.
+She thought that she could have been very happy on that splendid night,
+if her heart had been full of quietude and serenity. Her two daughters
+were married; her last task was accomplished. She ought to have
+nothing to do but enjoy life after her own fashioning, and be calm and
+satisfied. Instead of that, here were fear and dissimulation taking
+possession of her mind; and an ardent, pitiless struggle beginning
+against the man who had deceived her daughter and lied to her. The bark
+which carried her fortune, on reaching port, had caught fire, and it was
+necessary to begin laboring again amid cares and pains.
+
+A dull rage filled her heart. To have so surely built up the edifice
+of her happiness, to have embellished it every hour, and then to see an
+intruder audaciously taking possession of it, and making his despotic
+and hateful authority prevail! And what could she do against this new
+master? Nothing. He was marvellously protected by Micheline's mad
+love for him. To strike Serge would be to wound Micheline, surely
+and mortally. So this scoundrel could laugh at her and dare her with
+impunity!
+
+What must she do? Take him aside and tell him that she knew of his
+disloyal conduct, and tell him of her contempt and hatred for him? And
+after that? What would be the consequence of this outburst of violence?
+The Prince, using his power over Micheline, would separate the daughter
+from the mother. And Madame Desvarennes would be alone in her corner,
+abandoned like a poor dog, and would die of despair and anger. What
+other course then? She must dissemble, mask her face with indifference,
+if possible with tenderness, and undertake the difficult task of
+separating Micheline from the man whom she adored. It was quite a feat
+of strategy to plan. To bring out the husband's faults and to make his
+errors known, and give her the opportunity of proving his worthlessness.
+In a word, to make the young wife understand that she had married an
+elegant manikin, unworthy of her love.
+
+It would be an easy matter to lay snares for Serge. He was a gambler.
+She could let him have ready money to satisfy his passion. Once in the
+clutches of the demon of play, he would neglect his wife, and the mother
+might regain a portion of the ground she had lost. Micheline's
+fortune once broken into, she would interpose between her daughter and
+son-in-law. She would make him pull up, and holding him tightly by her
+purse strings, would lead him whither she liked.
+
+Already in fancy she saw her authority regained, and her daughter, her
+treasure, her life, true mistress of the situation, grateful to her
+for having saved her. And then, she thought, a baby will come, and if
+Micheline is really my daughter, she will adore the little thing, and
+the blind love which she has given to her husband will be diminished by
+so much.
+
+Serge did not know what an adversary he had against him in his
+mother-in-law. It was a bad thing to cross the mistress when business
+matters were concerned, but now that her daughter's happiness was at
+stake! A smile came to her lips. A firm resolution from that hour must
+guide her, and the struggle between her son-in-law and herself could
+only end by the crushing of one of them.
+
+In the distance the music from the work-people's ball was heard. Madame
+Desvarennes mechanically bent her steps toward the tent under which the
+heavy bounds of the dancers reechoed. Every now and then large shadows
+appeared on the canvas. A joyful clamor issued from the ballroom. Loud
+laughter resounded, mingled with piercing cries of tickled women.
+
+The voice of the master of the ceremonies could be heard jocose and
+solemn: "La poule! Advance! Set to partners!" Then the stamping of heavy
+shoes on the badly planed floor, and, above all, the melancholy sounds
+of the clarionet and the shrill notes of the cornet were audible.
+
+At the entrance of the ballroom, surrounded by tables and stools, two
+barrels of wine on stands presented their wooden taps, ready for those
+who wanted to quench their thirst. A large red mark under each
+barrel showed that the hands of the drinkers wire no longer steady. A
+cake-seller had taken up his place at the other side, and was kneading a
+last batch of paste, while his apprentice was ringing a bell which hung
+over the iron cooking-stove to attract customers. There was an odor of
+rancid butter, spilled wine, and paraffin oil.
+
+Adjoining the ballroom, a merry-go-round; which had been the delight
+of the village urchins all day, appealed for custom by the aid of a
+barrel-organ on which a woman in a white bodice was playing the waltz
+from 'Les Cloches de Corneville'.
+
+The animation of this fete, in the midst of which Madame Desvarennes
+suddenly appeared, was a happy diversion from the serious thoughts which
+beset her. She remembered that Serge and Micheline must be there.
+She came from under the shadow of the avenue into the full light. On
+recognizing her, all the workpeople, who were seated, rose. She was
+really mistress and lady of the place. And then she had fed these people
+since morning. With a sign she bade them be seated, and walking quickly
+toward the dancing-room, lifted the red and white cotton curtain which
+hung over the entrance.
+
+There, in a space of a hundred square yards or so, about a hundred and
+fifty people were sitting or standing. At the end, on a stage, were
+the musicians, each with a bottle of wine at his feet, from which they
+refreshed themselves during the intervals. An impalpable dust, raised
+by the feet of the dancers, filled the air charged with acrid odors.
+The women in light dresses and bareheaded, and the men arrayed in their
+Sunday clothes, gave themselves up with frantic ardor to their favorite
+pleasure.
+
+Ranged in double rows, vis-a-vis, they were waiting with impatience for
+the music to strike up for the last figure. Near the orchestra, Serge
+was dancing with the Mayor's daughter opposite Micheline, whose partner
+was the mayor himself. An air of joyful gravity lit up the municipal
+officer's face. He was enjoying the honor which the Princess had done
+him. His pretty young daughter, dressed, in her confirmation dress,
+which had been lengthened with a muslin flounce, a rose in her hair, and
+her hands encased in straw-colored one-button kid gloves, hardly dared
+raise her eyes to the Prince, and with burning cheeks, answered in
+monosyllables the few remarks Serge felt forced to address to her.
+
+The orchestra bellowed, the floor shook; the two lines of dancers had
+advanced in a body. Madame Desvarennes, leaning against the door-post,
+followed with her eyes her daughter, whose light footsteps contrasted
+strangely with the heavy tread of the women around her. The mayor, eager
+and respectful, followed her, making efforts to keep up with her without
+treading on her long train. It was,
+
+"Excuse me, Madame la Princesse. If Madame la Princesse will do me the
+honor to give me her hand, it is our turn to cross."
+
+They had just crossed. Serge suddenly found himself facing his
+mother-in-law. His face lit up, and he uttered a joyful exclamation.
+Micheline raised her eyes, and following her husband's look, perceived
+her mother. Then it was a double joy. With a mischievous wink, Serge
+called Madame Desvarennes's attention to the mayor's solemn appearance
+as he was galloping with Micheline, also the comical positions of the
+rustics.
+
+Micheline was smiling. She was enjoying herself. All this homely
+gayety, of which she was the cause, made her feel happy. She enjoyed the
+pleasure of those around her. With her compassionate eyes she thanked
+her mother in the distance for having prepared this fete in honor of her
+marriage. The clarionet, violin, and cornet sounded a last modulation,
+then the final cadence put an end to the bounds of the dances. Each took
+his lady to her place--the mayor with pompous gait, Serge with as much
+grace as if he had been at an ambassador's ball and was leading a young
+lady of highest rank.
+
+Madame Desvarennes was suddenly surrounded; cheers resounded, the band
+struck up the Marseillaise.
+
+"Let us escape," said Serge, "because these good people will think
+nothing of carrying us in triumph."
+
+And leading away his mother-in-law and his wife, he left the ballroom
+followed by cheers.
+
+Outside they all three walked in silence. The night air was delightful
+after coming out of that furnace. The cheering had ceased, and the
+orchestra was playing a polka. Micheline had taken her husband's arm.
+
+They went along slowly, and close together. Not a word was exchanged;
+they all three seemed to be listening within themselves. When they
+reached the house, they went up the steps leading into the greenhouse,
+which served also as a boudoir to Madame Desvarennes.
+
+The atmosphere was still warm and scented, the lamps still burning. The
+guests had left; Micheline looked round. The remembrance of this happy
+evening, which had been the crowning of her happiness, filled her heart
+with emotion. Turning toward her mother with a radiant face, she cried:
+
+"Ah! mamma! I am so happy," and threw her arms around her.
+
+Serge started at this cry. Two tears came to his eyes, and looking a
+little pale, he stretched out to Madame Desvarennes his hands, which she
+felt trembling in hers, and said:
+
+"Thank you."
+
+Madame Desvarennes gazed at him for a moment. She did not see the
+shadow of a wicked thought on his brow. He was sincerely affected, truly
+grateful. The idea occurred to her that Jeanne had deceived her, or had
+deceived herself, and that Serge had not loved her. A feeling of relief
+took possession of her. But distrust had unfortunately entered her mind.
+She put away that flattering hope. And giving her son-in-law such a
+look, which, had he been less moved, he would have understood, she
+murmured,
+
+"We shall see."
+
+
+
+
+BOOK 3.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+THE FIRST BREAK
+
+The first two months of this union were truly enchanting. Serge and
+Micheline never left each other. After an absence of eight days they had
+returned to Paris with Madame Desvarennes, and the hitherto dull mansion
+in the Rue Saint-Dominique was filled with joyful bustle. The splendid
+stables, formerly too large for the mistress's three horses, were now
+insufficient for the service of the Prince. There were eight splendid
+carriage-horses, a pair of charming ponies--bought especially for
+Micheline's use, but which the young wife had not been able to make up
+her mind to drive herself--four saddle-horses, upon which every morning
+about eight o'clock, when the freshness of night had perfumed the Bois
+de Boulogne, the young people took their ride round the lake.
+
+A bright sun made the sheet of water sparkle between its borders of
+dark fir-trees; the fresh air played in Micheline's veil, and the tawny
+leather of the saddles creaked. Those were happy days for Micheline, who
+was delighted at having Serge near her, attentive to her every want, and
+controlling his thoroughbred English horse to her gentle pace. Every now
+and then his mount would wheel about and rear in revolt, she following
+him with fond looks, proud of the elegant cavalier who could subdue
+without apparent effort, by the mere pressure of his thighs, that
+impetuous steed.
+
+Then she would give her horse a touch with the whip, and off she would
+go at a gallop, feeling happy with the wind blowing in her face, and
+he whom she loved by her side to smile on and encourage her. Then they
+would scamper along; the dog with his thin body almost touching the
+ground, racing and frightening the rabbits, which shot across the road
+swift as bullets. Out of breath by the violent ride, Micheline would
+stop, and pat the neck of her lovely chestnut horse. Slowly the young
+people would return to the Rue Saint-Dominique, and, on arriving in the
+courtyard, there was such a pawing of feet as brought the clerks to
+the windows, hiding behind the curtains. Tired with healthy exercise,
+Micheline would go smiling to the office where her mother was hard at
+work, and say:
+
+"Here we are, mamma!"
+
+The mistress would rise and kiss her daughter beaming with freshness.
+Then they would go up to breakfast.
+
+Madame Desvarennes's doubts were lulled to rest. She saw her daughter
+happy. Her son-in-law was in every respect cordial and charming
+toward her. Cayrol and his wife had scarcely been in Paris since their
+marriage. The banker had joined Herzog in his great scheme of the
+"Credit," and was travelling all over Europe establishing offices and
+securing openings. Jeanne accompanied him. They were then in Greece.
+The young wife's letters to her adopted mother breathed calmness and
+satisfaction. She highly praised her husband's kindness to her, and said
+it was unequalled.
+
+No allusion was made to that evening of their marriage, when, escaping
+from Cayrol's wrath, she had thrown herself in Madame Desvarennes's
+arms, and had allowed her secret to be found out. The mistress might
+well think then that the thought which at times still troubled her mind
+was a remembrance of a bad dream.
+
+What contributed especially to make her feel secure was Jeanne's
+absence. If the young woman had been near Serge, Madame Desvarennes
+might have trembled. But Micheline's beautiful rival was far away, and
+Serge seemed very much in love with his wife.
+
+Everything was for the best. The formidable projects which Madame
+Desvarennes had formed in the heat of her passion had not been carried
+out. Serge had as yet not given Madame Desvarennes cause for real
+displeasure. Certainly he was spending money foolishly, but then his
+wife was so rich!
+
+He had put his household on an extraordinary footing. Everything that
+most refined luxury had invented he had introduced as a matter of
+course, and for everyday use. He entertained magnificently several times
+a week. And Madame Desvarennes, from her apartments, for she would never
+appear at these grand receptions, heard the noise of these doings. This
+woman, modest and simple in her ideas, whose luxury had always
+been artistic, wondered that they could spend so much on frivolous
+entertainments. But Micheline was queen of these sumptuous ceremonies.
+She came in full dress to be admired by her mother, before going down
+to receive her guests, and the mistress had not courage to offer any
+remonstrances as to expense when she saw her daughter so brilliant and
+contented.
+
+They played cards very much. The great colony of foreigners who came
+every week to Panine's receptions brought with them their immoderate
+passion for cards, and he was only too willing to give way to it. These
+gentlemen, among them all, almost without taking off their white kid
+gloves, would win or lose between forty and fifty thousand francs at
+bouillotte, just to give them an appetite before going to the club to
+finish the night at baccarat.
+
+Meanwhile the ladies, with their graceful toilettes displayed on the low
+soft chairs, talked of dress behind their fans, or listened to the songs
+of a professional singer, while young men whispered soft nothings in
+their ears.
+
+It was rumored that the Prince lost heavily. It was not to be wondered
+at; he was so happy in love! Madame Desvarennes, who used every means of
+gaining information on the subject, even to the gossip of the servants,
+heard that the sums were enormous. No doubt they were exaggerated, but
+the fact remained the same. The Prince was losing.
+
+Madame Desvarennes could not resist the inclination of finding out
+whether Micheline knew what was going on, and one morning when the young
+wife came down to see her mother, dressed in a lovely pink gown, the
+mistress, while teasing her daughter, said, carelessly:
+
+"It seems your husband lost heavily last night."
+
+Micheline looked astonished at Madame Desvarennes, and in a quiet voice
+replied:
+
+"A good host may not win from his guests; it would look as if he
+invited them to rob them. Losses at cards are included in the costs of a
+reception."
+
+Madame Desvarennes thought that her daughter had become a very grand
+lady, and had soon acquired expanded ideas. But she dared not say
+anything more. She dreaded a quarrel with her daughter, and would have
+sacrificed everything to retain her cajoling ways.
+
+She threw herself into her work with renewed vigor.
+
+"If the Prince spends large sums," she said to herself, "I will earn
+larger ones. There can be no hole dug deep enough by him that I shall
+not be able, to fill up."
+
+And she made the money come in at the door so that her son-in-law might
+throw it out of the window.
+
+One fine day these great people who visited at the mansion in the Rue
+Saint-Dominique hastened away to the country. September had arrived,
+bringing with it the shooting season. The Prince and Micheline settled
+themselves at Cernay, not as in the first days of their marriage as
+lovers who sought quietude, but as people sure of their happiness, who
+wished to make a great show. They took all the carriages with them, and
+there was nothing but bustle and movement. The four keepers, dressed in
+the Prince's livery, came daily for orders as to shooting arrangements.
+And every week shoals of visitors arrived, brought from the station in
+large breaks drawn by four horses.
+
+The princely dwelling was in its full splendor. There was a continual
+going and coming of fashionable worldlings. From top to bottom of the
+castle was a constant rustling of silk dresses; groups of pretty women,
+coming downstairs with peals of merry laughter and singing snatches from
+the last opera. In the spacious hall they played billiards and other
+games, while one of the gentlemen performed on the large organ. There
+was a strange mixture of freedom and strictness. The smoke of Russian
+cigarettes mingled with the scent of opoponax. An elegant confusion
+which ended about six o'clock in a general flight, when the sportsmen
+came home, and the guests went to their rooms. An hour afterward all
+these people met in the large drawing-room; the ladies in low-bodied
+evening dresses; the gentlemen in dress-coats and white satin
+waistcoats, with a sprig of mignonette and a white rose in their
+buttonholes. After dinner, they danced in the drawing-rooms, where a mad
+waltz would even restore energy to the gentlemen tired out by six hours
+spent in the field.
+
+Madame Desvarennes did not join in that wild existence. She had remained
+in Paris, attentive to business. On Saturdays she came down by the five
+o'clock train and regularly returned on the Monday morning. Her presence
+checked their wild gayety a little. Her black dress was like a blot
+among the brocades and satins. Her severe gravity, that of a woman who
+pays and sees the money going too fast, was like a reproach, silent but
+explicit, to that gay and thoughtless throng of idlers, solely taken up
+by their pleasure.
+
+The servants made fun of her. One day the Prince's valet, who thought
+himself a clever fellow, said before all the other servants that
+Mother Damper had arrived. Of course they all roared with laughter and
+exclaimed:
+
+"Bother the old woman! Why does she come and worry us? She had far
+better stop in the office and earn money; that's all she's good for!"
+
+The disdain which the servants learned from their master grew rapidly.
+So much so that one Monday morning, toward nine o'clock, Madame
+Desvarennes came down to the courtyard, expecting to find the carriage
+which generally took her to the station. It was the second coachman's
+duty to drive her, and she did not see him. Thinking that he was a
+little late, she walked to the stable-yard. There, instead of the
+victoria which usually took her, she saw a large mail-coach to which
+two grooms were harnessing the Prince's four bays. The head coachman, an
+Englishman, dressed like a gentleman, with a stand-up collar, and a
+rose in his buttonhole, stood watching the operations with an air of
+importance.
+
+Madame Desvarennes went straight to him. He had seen her coming, out of
+the corner of his eye, without disturbing himself.
+
+"How is it that the carriage is not ready to take me to the station?"
+asked the mistress.
+
+"I don't know, Madame," answered this personage, condescendingly,
+without taking his hat off.
+
+"But where is the coachman who generally drives me?"
+
+"I don't know. If Madame would like to see in the stables--"
+
+And with a careless gesture, the Englishman pointed out to Madame
+Desvarennes the magnificent buildings at the end of the courtyard.
+
+The blood rose to the mistress's cheeks; she gave the coachman such a
+look that he moved away a little. Then glancing at her watch, she said,
+coldly:
+
+"I have only a quarter of an hour before the train leaves, but here are
+horses that ought to go well. Jump on the box, my man, you shall drive
+me."
+
+The Englishman shook his head.
+
+"Those horses are not for service; they are only for pleasure," he
+answered. "I drive the Prince. I don't mind driving the Princess, but I
+am not here to drive you, Madame."
+
+And with an insolent gesture, setting his hat firmly on his head, he
+turned his back upon the mistress. At the same moment, a sharp stroke
+from a light cane made his hat roll on the pavement. And as the
+Englishman turned round, red with rage, he found himself face to face
+with the Prince, whose approach neither Madame Desvarennes nor he had
+heard.
+
+Serge, in an elegant morning suit, was going round his stables when he
+had been attracted by this discussion. The Englishman, uneasy, sought to
+frame an excuse.
+
+"Hold your tongue!" exclaimed the Prince, sharply, "and go and wait my
+orders."
+
+And turning toward the mistress:
+
+"Since this man refuses to drive you, I shall have the pleasure of
+taking you to the station myself," he said, with a charming smile.
+
+And as Madame Desvarennes remonstrated,
+
+"Oh! I can drive four-in-hand," he added. "For once in my life that
+talent will have been of some use to me. Pray jump in."
+
+And opening the door of the mail-coach he handed her into the vast
+carriage. Then, climbing with one bound to the box, he gathered the
+reins and, cigar in mouth, with all the coolness of an old coachman, he
+started the horses in the presence of all the grooms, and made a perfect
+semicircle on the gravel of the courtyard.
+
+The incident was repeated favorably for Serge. It was agreed that he had
+behaved like a true nobleman. Micheline was proud of it, and saw in this
+act of deference to her mother a proof of his love for her. As to the
+mistress, she understood the advantage this clever manoeuvre gave to the
+Prince. At the same time she felt the great distance which henceforth
+separated her from the world in which her daughter lived.
+
+The insolence of that servant was a revelation to her. They despised
+her. The Prince's coachman would not condescend to drive a plebeian like
+her. She paid the wages of these servants to no purpose. Her plebeian
+origin and business habits were a vice. They submitted to her; they did
+not respect her.
+
+Although her son-in-law and daughter were perfect toward her in their
+behavior, she became gloomy and dull, and but seldom went now to Cernay.
+She felt in the way, and uncomfortable. The smiling and superficial
+politeness of the visitors irritated her nerves. These people were too
+well bred to be rude toward Panine's mother-in-law, but she felt that
+their politeness was forced. Under their affected nicety she detected
+irony. She began to hate them all.
+
+Serge, sovereign lord of Cernay, was really happy. Every moment he
+experienced new pleasure in gratifying his taste for luxury. His love
+for horses grew more and more. He gave orders to have a model stud-house
+erected in the park amid the splendid meadows watered by the Oise; and
+bought stallions and breeding mares from celebrated English breeders. He
+contemplated starting a racing stable.
+
+One day when Madame Desvarennes arrived at Cernay, she was surprised to
+see the greensward bordering the woods marked out with white stakes. She
+asked inquiringly what these stakes meant? Micheline answered in an easy
+tone:
+
+"Ah! you saw them? That is the track for training. We made Mademoiselle
+de Cernay gallop there to-day. She's a level-going filly with which
+Serge hopes to win the next Poule des Produits."
+
+The mistress was amazed. A child who had been brought up so simply, in
+spite of her large fortune, a little commoner, speaking of level-going
+fillies and the Poule des Produits! What a change had come over her
+and what incredible influence this frivolous, vain Panine had over that
+young and right-minded girl! And that in a few months! What would it be
+later? He would succeed in imparting to her his tastes and would mould
+her to his whims, and the young modest girl whom he had received from
+the mother would become a horsey and fast woman.
+
+Was it possible that Micheline could be happy in that hollow and empty
+life? The love of her husband satisfied her. His love was all she
+asked for, all else was indifferent to her. Thus of her mother, the
+impassioned toiler, was born the passionate lover! All the fervency
+which the mother had given to business, Micheline had given to love.
+
+Moreover, Serge behaved irreproachably. One must do him that justice.
+Not even an appearance accused him. He was faithful, unlikely as that
+may seem in a man of his kind; he never left his wife. He had hardly
+ever gone out without her; they were a couple of turtle-doves. They were
+laughed at.
+
+"The Princess has tied a string round Serge's foot," was said by some of
+Serge's former woman friends!
+
+It was something to be sure of her daughter's happiness. That happiness
+was dearly, bought; but as the proverb says:
+
+"Money troubles are not mortal!"
+
+And, besides, it was evident that the Prince did not keep account of
+his money; his hand was always open. And never did a great lord do
+more honor to his fortune. Panine, in marrying Micheline, had found the
+mistress's cash-box at his disposal.
+
+This prodigious cash-box had seemed to him inexhaustible, and he had
+drawn on it like a Prince in the Arabian Nights on the treasure of the
+genii.
+
+Perhaps it would suffice to let him see that he was spending the capital
+as well as the income to make him alter his line of conduct. At all
+events, the moment was not yet opportune, and, besides, the amount was
+not yet large enough. Cry out about some hundred thousand francs! Madame
+Desvarennes would be thought a miser and would be covered with shame.
+She must wait.
+
+And, shut up in her office in the Rue Saint-Dominique with Marechal, who
+acted as her confidant, she worked with heart and soul full of passion
+and anger, making money. It was fine to witness the duel between
+these two beings: the one useful, the other useless; one sacrificing
+everything to work, the other everything to pleasure.
+
+Toward the end of October, the weather at Cernay became unsettled, and
+Micheline complained of the cold. Country life so pleased Serge that he
+turned a deaf ear to her complaints. But lost in that large house, the
+autumn winds rustling through the trees, whose leaves were tinted with
+yellow, Micheline became sad, and the Prince understood that it was time
+to go back to Paris.
+
+The town seemed deserted to Serge. Still, returning to his splendid
+apartments was a great satisfaction and pleasure to him. Everything
+appeared new. He reviewed the hangings, the expensive furniture, the
+paintings and rare objects. He was charmed. It was really of wonderful
+beauty, and the cage seemed worthy of the bird. For several evenings
+he remained quietly at home with Micheline, in the little silver-gray
+drawing-room that was his favorite room. He looked through albums, too,
+while his wife played at her piano quietly or sang.
+
+They retired early and came down late. Then he had become a gourmand. He
+spent hours in arranging menus and inventing unknown dishes about which
+he consulted his chef, a cook of note.
+
+He rode in the Bois in the course of the day, but did not meet any
+one there; for of every two carriages one was a hackney coach with a
+worn-out sleepy horse, his head hanging between his knees, going the
+round of the lake. He ceased going to the Bois, and went out on foot in
+the Champs-Elysees. He crossed the Pont de la Concorde, and walked up
+and down the avenues near the Cirque.
+
+He was wearied. Life had never appeared so monotonous to him. Formerly
+he had at least the preoccupations of the future. He asked himself how
+he could alter the sad condition in which he vegetated! Shut up in
+this happy existence, without a care or a cross, he grew weary like a
+prisoner in his cell. He longed for the unforeseen; his wife irritated
+him, she was of too equable a temperament. She always met him with the
+same smile on her lips. And then happiness agreed with her too well; she
+was growing stout.
+
+One day, on the Boulevard des Italiens, Serge met an old friend, the
+Baron de Prefont, a hardened 'roue'. He had not seen him since his
+marriage. It was a pleasure to him. They had a thousand things to say to
+each other. And walking along, they came to the Rue Royale.
+
+"Come to the club," said Prefont, taking Serge by the arm.
+
+The Prince, having nothing else to do, allowed himself to be led away,
+and went. He felt a strange pleasure in those large rooms of the club,
+the Grand Cercle, with their glaring furniture. The common easy-chairs,
+covered with dark leather, seemed delightful. He did not notice the
+well-worn carpets burned here and there by the hot cigar-ash; the strong
+smell of tobacco, impregnated in the curtains, did not make him feel
+qualmish. He was away from home, and was satisfied with anything for a
+change. He had been domesticated long enough.
+
+One morning, taking up the newspaper, a name caught Madame Desvarennes's
+eye-that of the Prince. She read:
+
+"The golden book of the Grand Cercle has just had another illustrious
+name inscribed in it. The Prince Panine was admitted yesterday, proposed
+by the Baron de Prefont and the Duc de Bligny."
+
+These few lines made Madame Desvarennes's blood boil. Her ears tingled
+as if all the bells of Saint-Etienne-du-Mont had been rung together.
+In a rapid vision, she saw misfortune coming. Her son-in-law, that born
+gambler, at the Grand Cercle! No more smiles for Micheline; henceforth
+she had a terrible rival--the devouring love of play.
+
+Then Madame Desvarennes reflected. The husband's deserting his fireside
+would be salvation for herself. The door by which he went out, would
+serve as an entrance for her. The plan which she had conceived at Cernay
+that terrible night of the marriage when Jeanne had confided in her,
+remained for her to execute. By opening her purse widely to the Prince,
+she would help him in his vice. And she would infallibly succeed in
+separating Serge and Micheline.
+
+But the mistress checked herself. Lend her hands to the destruction of
+her son-in-law in a fit of fierce maternal egoism? Was it not unworthy
+of her? How many tears would the Prince's errors cost her whom she
+wished to regain at all price? And then would she always be there to
+compensate by her devoted affection the bitterly regretted estrangement
+from the husband? She would, in dying, leave the household disunited.
+
+She was horrified at what she had for an instant dreamed of doing. And
+instead of helping the Prince on to destruction, she determined to
+do all in her power to keep him in the path of honor. That resolution
+formed, Madame Desvarennes was satisfied. She felt superior to Serge,
+and to a mind like hers the thought was strengthening.
+
+The admission to the Grand Cercle gave Serge a powerful element of
+interest in life: He had to manoeuvre to obtain his liberty. His first
+evenings spent from home troubled Micheline deeply. The young wife was
+jealous when she saw her husband going out. She feared a rival, and
+trembled for her love. Serge's mysterious conduct caused her intolerable
+torture. She dared not say anything to her mother, and remained
+perfectly quiet on the subject before her husband. She sought
+discreetly, listened to the least word that might throw any light on the
+matter.
+
+One day she found an ivory counter, bearing the stamp of the Grand
+Cercle, in her husband's dressing-room. It was in the Rue Royale then
+that her husband spent his evenings. This discovery was a great relief
+to her. It was not very wrong to go there, and if the Prince did go
+and smoke a few cigars and have a game at bouillotte, it was not a very
+great crime. The return of his usual friends to Paris and the resumption
+of their receptions would bring him home again.
+
+Serge now left Micheline about ten o'clock in the evening regularly and
+arrived at the club about eleven. High play did not commence until after
+midnight. Then he seated himself at the gaming-table with all the
+ardor of a professional gambler. His face changed its expression. When
+winning, it was animated with an expression of awful joy; when losing,
+he looked as hard as a stone, his features contracted, and his eyes were
+full of gloomy fire. He bit his mustache convulsively. Moreover, always
+silent, winning or losing with superb indifference.
+
+He lost. His bad luck had followed him. At the club his losses were no
+longer limited. There was always some one willing to take a hand, and
+until dawn he played, wasting his life and energies to satisfy his
+insane love of gambling.
+
+One morning, Marechal entered Madame Desvarennes's private office,
+holding a little square piece of paper. Without speaking a word, he
+placed it on the desk. The mistress took it, read what was written upon
+it in shaky handwriting, and suddenly becoming purple, rose. The paper
+bore these simple words:
+
+"Received from Monsieur Salignon the sum of one hundred thousand francs.
+Serge Panine."
+
+"Who brought this paper?" asked Madame Desvarennes, crushing it between
+her fingers.
+
+"The waiter who attends the card-room at the club."
+
+"The waiter?" cried Madame Desvarennes, astonished.
+
+"Oh, he is a sort of banker," said Marechal. "These gentlemen apply to
+him when they run short of money. The Prince must have found himself in
+that predicament. Still he has just received the rents for the property
+in the Rue de Rivoli."
+
+"The rents!" grumbled Madame Desvarennes, with an energetic movement.
+"The rents! A drop of water in a river! You don't know that he is a man
+to lose the hundred thousand francs which they claim, in one night."
+
+The mistress paced up and down the room. She suddenly came to a
+standstill. "If I don't stop him, the rogue will sell the feather-bed
+from under my daughter! But he shall have a little of my mind! He has
+provoked me long enough. Pay it! I'll take my money's worth out of him."
+
+And in a second, Madame Desvarennes was in the Prince's room.
+
+Serge, after a delicate breakfast, was smoking and dozing on the
+smoking-room sofa. The night had been a heavy one for him. He had won
+two hundred and fifty thousand francs from Ibrahim Bey, then he had lost
+all, besides five thousand louis advanced by the obliging Salignon. He
+had told the waiter to come to the Rue Saint-Dominique, and by mistake
+the man had gone to the office.
+
+The sudden opening of the smoking-room door roused Serge. He unclosed
+his eyes and looked very much astonished at seeing Madame Desvarennes
+appear. Pale, frowning, and holding the accusing paper in her hand, she
+angrily inquired:
+
+"Do you recognize that?" and placed the receipt which he had signed,
+before him, as he slowly rose.
+
+Serge seized it quickly, and then looking coldly at his mother-in-law,
+said:
+
+"How did this paper come into your hands?"
+
+"It has just been brought to my cashier. A hundred thousand francs!
+Faith! You are going ahead! Do you know how many bushels of corn must be
+ground to earn that?"
+
+"I beg your pardon, Madame," said the Prince, interrupting Madame
+Desvarennes. "I don't suppose you came here to give me a lesson in
+commercial statistics. This paper was presented to your cashier by
+mistake. I was expecting it, and here is the money ready to pay it. As
+you have been good enough to do so, pray refund yourself."
+
+And taking a bundle of bank-notes from a cabinet, the Prince handed them
+to the astonished mistress.
+
+"But," she sought to say, very much put out by this unexpected answer,
+"where did you get this money from? You must have inconvenienced
+yourself."
+
+"I beg your pardon," said the Prince, quietly, "that only concerns
+myself. Be good enough to see whether the amount is there," added he
+with a smile. "I reckon so badly that it is possible I may have made a
+mistake to your disadvantage."
+
+Madame Desvarennes pushed away the hand which presented the bank-notes,
+and shook her head gravely:
+
+"Keep this money," she said; "unfortunately you will need it. You have
+entered on a very dangerous path, which grieves me very much. I would
+willingly give ten times the amount, at once, to be sure that you would
+never touch another card."
+
+"Madame!" said the Prince with impatience.
+
+"Oh! I know what I am risking by speaking thus. It weighs so heavily
+on my heart. I must give vent to it or I shall choke. You are spending
+money like a man who does not know what it is to earn it. And if you
+continue--"
+
+Madame Desvarennes raised her eyes and looked at the Prince. She saw him
+so pale with suppressed rage that she dared not say another word. She
+read deadly hatred in the young man's look. Frightened at what she had
+just been saying, she stepped back, and went quickly toward the door.
+
+"Take this money, Madame," said Serge, in a trembling voice. "Take it,
+or all is over between us forever."
+
+And, seizing the notes, he put them by force in Madame Desvarennes's
+hands. Then tearing up with rage the paper that had been the cause of
+this painful scene, he threw the pieces in the fireplace.
+
+Deeply affected, Madame Desvarennes descended the stairs which she had
+a few minutes before gone up with so much resolution. She had a
+presentiment that an irreparable rupture had just taken place between
+herself and her son-in-law. She had ruffled Panine's pride. She
+felt that he would never forgive her. She went to her room sad and
+thoughtful. Life was becoming gloomy for this poor woman. Her confidence
+in herself had disappeared. She hesitated now, and was irresolute when
+she had to take a decision. She no longer went straight to the point by
+the shortest road. Her sonorous voice was softened. She was no longer
+the same willing energetic woman who feared no obstacles. She had known
+defeat.
+
+The attitude of her daughter had changed toward her. It seemed as
+if Micheline wished to absolve herself of all complicity with Madame
+Desvarennes. She kept away to prove to her husband that if her mother
+had displeased him in any way, she had nothing to do with it. This
+behavior grieved her mother, who felt that Serge was working secretly
+to turn Micheline against her. And the mad passion of the young wife for
+him whom she recognized as her master did not allow the mother to doubt
+which side she would take if ever she had to choose between husband and
+mother.
+
+One day Micheline came down to see her mother. It was more than a month
+since she had visited her. In a moment Madame Desvarennes saw that she
+had something of an embarrassing nature to speak of. To begin with she
+was more affectionate than usual, seeming to wish with the honey of
+her kisses to sweeten the bitter cross which the mistress was doomed to
+bear. Then she hesitated. She fidgeted about the room humming. At last
+she said that the doctor had come at the request of Serge, who was most
+anxious about his wife's health. And that excellent Doctor Rigaud, who
+had known her from a child, had found her suffering from great weakness.
+He had ordered change of air.
+
+At these words Madame Desvarennes raised her head and gave her daughter
+a terrible look:
+
+"Come, no nonsense! Speak the truth! He is taking you away!"
+
+"But, mamma," said Micheline, disconcerted at this interruption, "I
+assure you, you are mistaken. Anxiety for my health alone guides my
+husband."
+
+"Your husband!" broke forth Madame Desvarennes. "Your husband! Ah,
+there; go away! Because if you stop here, I shall not be able to control
+myself, and shall say things about him that you will not forgive in
+a hurry! As you are ill, you are right to have change of air. I shall
+remain here, without you, fastened to my chain, earning money for you
+while you are far, away. Go along!"
+
+And seizing her daughter by the arm with convulsive strength, she pushed
+her roughly; for the first time in her life, repeating, in a low tone:
+
+"Go away! Leave me alone!"
+
+Micheline suffered herself to be put outside the room, and went to her
+own apartments astonished and frightened. The young wife had hardly left
+the room when Madame Desvarennes suffered the reaction of the emotion
+she had just felt. Her nerves were unstrung, and falling on a chair she
+remained immovable and humbled. Was it possible that her daughter, her
+adored child, would abandon her to obey the grudges of her husband? No,
+Micheline, when back in her room, would remember that she was carrying
+away all the joy of the house, and that it was cruel to deprive her
+mother of her only happiness in life.
+
+Slightly reassured, she went down to the office. As she reached the
+landing, she saw the Prince's servants carrying up trunks belonging to
+their master to be packed. She felt sick at heart. She understood that
+this project had been discussed and settled beforehand. It seemed to her
+that all was over; that her daughter was going away forever, and that
+she would never see her again. She thought of going to beseech Serge and
+ask him what sum he would take in exchange for Micheline's liberty;
+but the haughty and sarcastic face of the Prince forcibly putting the
+bank-notes in her hands, passed before her, and she guessed that she
+would not obtain anything. Cast down and despairing, she entered her
+office and set to work.
+
+The next day, by the evening express, the Prince and Princess left
+for Nice with all their household, and the mansion in the Rue
+Saint-Dominique remained silent and deserted.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV. A SUDDEN JOURNEY
+
+At the end of the Promenade des Anglais, on the pleasant road bordered
+with tamarind-trees, stands, amid a grove of cork-oaks and eucalypti,
+a charming white villa with pink shutters. A Russian lady, the Countess
+Woreseff, had it built five years ago, and occupied it one winter. Then,
+tired of the monotonous noise of the waves beating on the terrace and
+the brightness of the calm blue sky, she longed for the mists of her
+native country, and suddenly started for St. Petersburg, leaving that
+charming residence to be let.
+
+It was there, amid rhododendrons and strawberry-trees in full bloom,
+that Micheline and Serge had taken up their abode. Until that day
+the Princess had scarcely travelled. Her mother, always occupied in
+commercial pursuits, had never left Paris. Micheline had remained with
+her. During this long journey, accomplished in most luxurious style, she
+had behaved like a child astonished at everything, and pleased at the
+least thing. With her face close to the window she saw through the
+transparent darkness of a lovely winter's night, villages and forests
+gliding past like phantoms. Afar off, in the depths of the country, she
+caught sight of a light glimmering, and she loved to picture a family
+gathered by the fire, the children asleep and the mother working in the
+silence.
+
+Children! She often thought of them, and never without a sigh of regret
+rising to her lips. She had been married for some months, and her dreams
+of becoming a mother had not been realized. How happy she would have
+been to have a baby, with fair hair, to fondle and kiss! Then the idea
+of a child reminded her of her own mother. She thought of the deep love
+one must feel for a child. And the image of the mistress, sad and alone,
+in the large house of the Rue Saint-Dominique, came to her mind. A vague
+remorse seized her heart. She felt she had behaved badly. She said to
+herself: "If, to punish me, Heaven will not grant me a child!" She
+wept, and soon her grief and trouble vanished with her tears. Sleep
+overpowered her, and when she awoke it was broad daylight and they were
+in Provence.
+
+From that moment everything was dazzling. The arrival at Marseilles;
+the journey along the coast, the approach to Nice, were all matters of
+ecstacy to Micheline. But it was when the carriage, which was waiting
+for them at the railway station, stopped at the gates of the villa,
+that she broke into raptures. She could not feast her eyes enough on the
+scene which was before her. The blue sea, the sky without a cloud,
+the white houses rising on the hill amid the dark foliage, and in the
+distance the mountaintops covered with snow, and tinged with pink under
+the brilliant rays of the sun. All this vigorous and slightly wild
+nature surprised the Parisienne. It was a new experience. Dazzled by
+the light and intoxicated with the perfumes, a sort of languor came over
+her. She soon recovered and became quite strong--something altogether
+new for her, and she felt thoroughly happy.
+
+The life of the Prince and the Princess became at Nice what it had been
+in Paris during the early days of their marriage. Visitors flocked to
+their house. All that the colony could reckon of well-known Parisians
+and foreigners of high repute presented themselves at the villa. The
+fetes recommenced. They gave receptions three times a week; the other
+evenings Serge went to the Cercle.
+
+This absorbing life had gone on for two months. It was the beginning
+of February, and already nature was assuming a new appearance under
+the influence of spring. One evening, three people--two gentlemen and a
+lady--stepped out of a carriage at the villa gates, and found themselves
+face to face with a traveller who had come on foot. Two exclamations
+broke out simultaneously.
+
+"Marechal!" "Monsieur Savinien!"
+
+"You! at Nice? And by what miracle?"
+
+"A miracle which makes you travel fifteen leagues an hour in exchange
+for a hundred and thirty-three francs first-class, and is called the
+Marseilles express!"
+
+"I beg your pardon, my dear friend. I have not introduced you to
+Monsieur and Mademoiselle Herzog."
+
+"I have already had the honor of meeting Mademoiselle Herzog at Madame
+Desvarennes's," said Marechal, bowing to the young girl, without
+appearing to notice the father.
+
+"You were going to the villa?" asked Savinien. "We, too, were going. But
+how is my aunt? When did you leave her?"
+
+"I have not left her."
+
+"What's that you say?"
+
+"I say that she is here."
+
+Savinien let his arms drop in profound consternation to show how
+difficult it was for him to believe what was going on. Then, in a faint
+treble voice, he said:
+
+"My aunt! At Nice! Promenade des Anglais! That's something more
+wonderful than the telephone and phonograph! If you had told me that the
+Pantheon had landed one fine night on the banks of the Paillon, I should
+not be more astonished. I thought Madame Desvarennes was as deeply
+rooted in Paris as the Colonne Vendome! But tell me, what is the object
+of this journey?"
+
+"A freak."
+
+"Which manifested itself--"
+
+"Yesterday morning at breakfast. Pierre Delarue, who is going to
+finish his business in Algeria, and then settle in France, came to say
+'Good-by' to Madame Desvarennes. A letter arrived from the Princess.
+She commenced reading it, then all at once she exclaimed 'Cayrol and his
+wife arrived at Nice two days ago!' Pierre and I were astonished at the
+tone in which she uttered these words. She was lost in thought for a
+few moments, then she said to Pierre: 'You are leaving tonight for
+Marseilles? Well, I shall go with you. You will accompany me to Nice.'
+And turning toward me, she added: 'Marechal, pack up your portmanteau. I
+shall take you with me."'
+
+While speaking, they had walked across the garden, and reached the steps
+leading to the villa.
+
+"Nothing is easier than to explain this sudden journey," remarked
+Mademoiselle Herzog. "On learning that Monsieur and Madame Cayrol were
+at Nice with the Princess, Madame Desvarennes must have felt how
+very lonely she was in Paris. She had a longing to be near them, and
+started."
+
+Herzog listened attentively, and seemed to be seeking the connection
+which should exist between the arrival of the Cayrols and the departure
+of Madame Desvarennes.
+
+"The funniest thing to me is Marechal taking a holiday," observed
+Savinien. "They are still at dinner," he added, entering the
+drawing-room, through the great doors of which sounds of voices and
+rattling of plates were heard.
+
+"Well, let us wait for them; we are in agreeable company," said Herzog,
+turning toward Marechal, who only answered by a cold bow.
+
+"What are you going to do here, Marechal?" inquired Savinien. "You will
+be awfully bored."
+
+"Why? Once in a way I am going to enjoy myself and be a swell. You will
+teach me, Monsieur Savinien. It cannot be very difficult. It is only
+necessary to wear a dove-colored coat like you, a gardenia in my
+buttonhole like Monsieur Le Bride, frizzled hair like Monsieur du
+Tremblay, and to assail the bank at Monaco."
+
+"Like all these gentlemen," said Suzanne, gayly, "you are a gambler
+then?"
+
+"I have never touched a card."
+
+"But then you ought to have great good luck," said the young girl.
+
+Herzog had come up to them.
+
+"Will you go partners?" he asked of Marechal. "We will divide the
+winnings."
+
+"You are too kind," replied Marechal, dryly, turning away.
+
+He could not get used to Herzog's familiarity, and there was something
+in the man which displeased him greatly. There was, he thought, a
+police-court atmosphere about him.
+
+Suzanne, on the contrary, interested him. The simple, lively, and frank
+young girl attracted him, and he liked to talk with her. On several
+occasions, at Madame Desvarennes's, he had been her partner. There was
+through this a certain intimacy between them which he could not extend
+to the father.
+
+Herzog had that faculty, fortunately for him, of never appearing
+offended at what was said to him. He took Savinien's arm in a familiar
+manner and asked: "Have you noticed that the Prince has looked very
+preoccupied for the last few days?"
+
+"I don't wonder at it," replied Savinien. "He has been very unlucky at
+cards. It is all very well for his wife, my charming cousin, to be rich,
+but if he is going on like that it won't last long!"
+
+The two men withdrew to the window.
+
+Suzanne went up to Marechal. She had resumed her thoughtful air. He
+saw her advancing, and, guessing what she was going to say, felt
+uncomfortable at having to tell an untruth if he did not wish to hurt
+her feelings by brutal frankness.
+
+"Monsieur Marechal," she began, "how is it that you are always so cold
+and formal with my father?"
+
+"My dear young lady, there is a great difference between your father and
+me. I keep my place, that's all."
+
+The young girl shook her head sadly.
+
+"It is not that; you are amiable and ever friendly with me--"
+
+"You are a woman, and the least politeness--"
+
+"No! My father must have hurt your feelings unwittingly; for he is very
+good. I have asked him, and he did not seem to understand what I meant.
+But my questions drew his attention to you. He thinks highly of you
+and would like to see you filling a position more in harmony with your
+merit. You know that Monsieur Cayrol and my father have just launched a
+tremendous undertaking?"
+
+"The 'Credit European'?"
+
+"Yes. They will have offices in all the commercial centres of European
+commerce. Would you like the management of one of these branches?"
+
+"I, Mademoiselle?" cried Marechal, astonished, and already asking
+himself what interest Herzog could have in making him leave the house of
+Desvarennes.
+
+"The enterprise is colossal," continued Suzanne, "and frightens me at
+times. Is it necessary to be so rich? I would like my father to retire
+from these enormous speculations into which he has thrown himself, body
+and soul. I have simple tastes. My father wishes to make a tremendous
+fortune for me, he says. All he undertakes is for me, I know. It seems
+to me that he runs a great risk. That is why I am talking to you. I am
+very superstitious, and I fancy if you were with us it would bring us
+luck."
+
+Suzanne, while speaking, had leaned toward Marechal. Her face reflected
+the seriousness of her thoughts. Her lovely eyes implored. The young
+man asked himself how this charming girl could belong to that horrible
+Herzog.
+
+"Believe me that I am deeply touched, Mademoiselle, by the favor you
+have done me," said he, with emotion. "I owe it solely to your kindness,
+I know; but I do not belong to myself. I am bound to Madame Desvarennes
+by stronger ties than those of interest--those of gratitude."
+
+"You refuse?" she cried, painfully.
+
+"I must."
+
+"The position you fill is humble."
+
+"I was very glad to accept it at a time when my daily bread was not
+certain."
+
+"You have been reduced," said the young girl, with trembling voice, "to
+such--"
+
+"Wretchedness. Yes, Mademoiselle, my outset in life was hard. I am
+without relations. Mother Marechal, a kind fruiterer of the Rue Pavee au
+Marais, found me one morning by the curbstone, rolled in a number of the
+Constitutionnel, like an old pair of boots. The good woman took me home,
+brought me up and sent me to college. I must tell you that I was very
+successful and gained a scholarship. I won all the prizes. Yes, and I
+had to sell my gilt-edged books from the Lycee Charlemagne in the days
+of distress. I was eighteen when my benefactress, Mother Marechal, died.
+I was without help or succor. I tried to get along by myself. After
+ten years of struggling and privations I felt physical and moral vigor
+giving way. I looked around me and saw those who overcame obstacles were
+stronger than I. I felt that I was doomed not to make way in the world,
+not being one of those who could command, so I resigned myself to obey.
+I fill a humble position as you know, but one which satisfies my wants.
+I am without ambition. A little philosophical, I observe all that goes
+on around me. I live happily like Diogenes in his tub."
+
+"You are a wise man," resumed Suzanne. "I, too, am a philosopher, and I
+live amid surroundings which do not please me. I, unfortunately, lost
+my mother when I was very young, and although my father is very kind, he
+has been obliged to neglect me a little. I see around me people who are
+millionaires or who aspire to be. I am doomed to receive the attentions
+of such men as Le Bride and Du Tremblay--empty-headed coxcombs, who
+court my money, and to whom I am not a woman, but a sack of ducats
+trimmed with lace."
+
+"These gentlemen are the modern Argonauts. They are in search of the
+Golden Fleece," observed Marechal.
+
+"The Argonauts!" cried Suzanne, laughing. "You are right. I shall never
+call them anything else."
+
+"Oh, they will not understand you!" said Marechal, gayly. "I don't think
+they know much of mythology."
+
+"Well, you see I am not very happy in the bosom of riches," continued
+the young girl. "Do not abandon me. Come and talk with me sometimes. You
+will not chatter trivialities. It will be a change from the others."
+
+And, nodding pleasantly to Marechal, Mademoiselle Herzog joined her
+father, who was gleaning details about the house of Desvarennes from
+Savinien.
+
+The secretary remained silent for a moment.
+
+"Strange girl!" he murmured. "What a pity she has such a father."
+
+The door of the room in which Monsieur and Mademoiselle Herzog, Marechal
+and Savinien were, opened, and Madame Desvarennes entered, followed by
+her daughter, Cayrol, Serge and Pierre. The room, at the extreme end of
+the villa, was square, surrounded on three sides by a gallery shut in
+by glass and stocked with greenhouse plants. Lofty archways, half veiled
+with draperies, led to the gallery. This room had been the favorite one
+of Countess Woreseff. She had furnished it in Oriental style, with low
+seats and large divans, inviting one to rest and dream during the heat
+of the day. In the centre of the apartment was a large ottoman, the
+middle of which formed a flower-stand. Steps led down from the gallery
+to the terrace whence there was a most charming view of sea and land.
+
+On seeing his aunt enter, Savinien rushed forward and seized both her
+hands. Madame Desvarennes's arrival was an element of interest in his
+unoccupied life. The dandy guessed at some mysterious business and
+thought it possible that he might get to know it. With open ears and
+prying eyes, he sought the meaning of the least words.
+
+"If you knew, my dear aunt, how surprised I am to see you here," he
+exclaimed in his hypocritical way.
+
+"Not more so than I am to find myself here," said she, with a smile.
+"But, bah! I have slipped my traces for a week."
+
+"And what are you going to do here?" continued Savinien.
+
+"What everybody does. By-the-bye, what do they do?" asked Madame
+Desvarennes, with vivacity.
+
+"That depends," answered the Prince. "There are two distinct populations
+here. On the one hand, those who take care of themselves; on the other,
+those who enjoy themselves. For the former there is the constitutional
+every morning in the sun, with slow measured steps on the Promenade des
+Anglais. For the latter there are excursions, races, regattas. The first
+economize their life like misers; the second waste it like prodigals.
+Then night comes on, and the air grows cold. Those who take care of
+themselves go home, those who amuse themselves go out. The first put
+on dressing-gowns; the second put on ball-dresses. Here, the house is
+quiet, lit up by a night-light; there, the rooms sparkle with light, and
+resound with the noise of music and dancing. Here they cough, there they
+laugh. Infusion on the one hand, punch on the other. In fact, everywhere
+and always, a contrast. Nice is at once the saddest and the gayest town.
+One dies of over-enjoyment, and one amuses one's self at the risk of
+dying."
+
+"A sojourn here is very dangerous, then?"
+
+"Oh! aunt, not so dangerous, nor, above all, so amusing as the
+Prince says. We are a set of jolly fellows, who kill time between the
+dining-room of the hotel, pigeon-shooting, and the Cercle, which is not
+so very amusing after all."
+
+"The dining-room is bearable," said Marechal, "but pigeon-shooting must
+in time become--"
+
+"We put some interest into the game."
+
+"How so?"
+
+"Oh! It is very simple: a gentleman with a gun in his hand stands before
+the boxes which contain the pigeons. You say to me: 'I bet fifty louis
+that the bird will fall.' I answer, 'Done.' The gentleman calls out,
+'Pull;' the box opens, the pigeon flies, the shot follows. The bird
+falls or does not fall. I lose or win fifty louis."
+
+"Most interesting!" exclaimed Mademoiselle Herzog.
+
+"Pshaw!" said Savinien with ironical indifference, "it takes the place
+of 'trente et quarante,' and is better than 'odd or even' on the numbers
+of the cabs which pass."
+
+"And what do the pigeons say to that?" asked Pierre, seriously.
+
+"They are not consulted," said Serge, gayly.
+
+"Then there are races and regattas," continued Savinien.
+
+"In which case you bet on the horses?" interrupted Marechal.
+
+"Or on the boats."
+
+"In fact, betting is applied to all circumstances of life?"
+
+"Exactly; and to crown all, we have the Cercle, where we go in the
+evening. Baccarat triumphs there. It is not very varied either: A
+hundred louis? Done--Five. I draw. There are some people who draw at
+five. Nine, I show up, I win or I lose, and the game continues."
+
+"And that amid the glare of gas and the smoke of tobacco," said
+Marechal, "when the nights are so splendid and the orange-trees smell so
+sweetly. What a strange existence!"
+
+"An existence for idiots, Marechal," sighed Savinien, "that I, a man of
+business, must submit to, through my aunt's domineering ways! You know
+now how men of pleasure spend their lives, my friend, and you might
+write a substantial resume entitled, 'The Fool's Breviary.' I am sure it
+would sell well."
+
+Madame Desvarennes, who had heard the last words, was no longer
+listening. She was lost in a deep reverie. She was much altered since
+grief and trouble had come upon her; her face was worn, her temples
+hollow, her chin was more prominent. Her eyes had sunk into her head,
+and were surrounded by dark rims.
+
+Serge, leaning against the wall near the window, was observing her. He
+was wondering with secret anxiety what had brought Madame Desvarennes
+so suddenly to his house after a separation of two months, during which
+time she had scarcely written to Micheline. Was the question of money to
+be resumed? Since the morning Madame had been smiling, calm and pleased
+like a schoolgirl home for her holidays. This was the first time she
+had allowed a sad expression to rest on her face. Her gayety was feigned
+then.
+
+A look crossing his made him start. Jeanne had just turned her eyes
+toward him. For a second they met his own. Serge could not help
+shuddering. Jeanne was calling his attention to Madame Desvarennes; she,
+too, was observing her. Was it on their account she had come to Nice?
+Had their secret fallen into her hands? He resolved to find out.
+
+Jeanne had turned away her eyes from him. He could feast his on her now.
+She had become more beautiful. The tone of her complexion had become
+warmer. Her figure had developed. Serge longed to call her his own. For
+a moment his hands trembled; his throat was dry, his heart seemed to
+stop beating.
+
+He tried to shake off this attraction, and walked to the centre of
+the room. At the same time visitors were announced. Le Bride, with
+his inseparable friend, Du Tremblay, escorting Lady Harton, Serge's
+beautiful cousin, who had caused Micheline some anxiety on the day
+of her marriage, but whom she no longer feared; then the Prince and
+Princess Odescalchi, Venetian nobles, followed by Monsieur Clement
+Souverain, a young Belgian, starter of the Nice races, a great pigeon
+shot, and a mad leader of cotillons.
+
+"Oh, dear me! my lady, all in black?" said Micheline, pointing to the
+tight-fitting black satin worn by the English beauty.
+
+"Yes, my dear Princess; mourning," replied Lady Harton, with a vigorous
+shake of the hands. "Ball-room mourning--one of my best partners;
+gentlemen, you know Harry Tornwall?"
+
+"Countess Alberti's cavalier?" added Serge. "Well?"
+
+"Well! he has just killed himself."
+
+A concert of exclamations arose in the drawing-room, and the visitors
+suddenly surrounded her.
+
+"What! did you not know? It was the sole topic of conversation at Monaco
+to-day. Poor Tornwall, being completely cleared out, went during the
+night to the park belonging to the villa occupied by Countess Alberti,
+and blew his brains out under her window."
+
+"How dreadful!" exclaimed Micheline.
+
+"It was very bad taste on your countryman's part," observed Serge.
+
+"The Countess was furious, and said that Tornwall's coming to her
+house to kill himself proved clearly to her that he did not know how to
+behave."
+
+"Do you wish to prevent those who are cleared out from blowing out their
+brains?" inquired Cayrol. "Compel the pawnbrokers of Monaco to lend a
+louis on all pistols."
+
+"Well," retorted young Monsieur Souverain, "when the louis is lost the
+players will still be able to hang themselves."
+
+"Yes," concluded Marechal, "then at any rate the rope will bring luck to
+others."
+
+"Gentlemen, do you know that what you have been relating to us is very
+doleful?" said Suzanne Herzog. "Suppose, to vary our impressions, you
+were to ask us to waltz?"
+
+"Yes, on the terrace," said Le Brede, warmly. "A curtain of orange-trees
+will protect us from the vulgar gaze."
+
+"Oh! Mademoiselle, what a dream!" sighed Du Tremblay, approaching
+Suzanne. "Waltzing with you! By moonlight."
+
+"Yes, friend Pierrot!" sang Suzanne, bursting into a laugh.
+
+Already the piano, vigorously attacked by Pierre, desirous of making
+himself useful since he could not be agreeable, was heard in the next
+room. Serge had slowly approached Jeanne.
+
+"Will you do me the favor of dancing with me?" he asked, softly.
+
+The young woman started; her cheeks became pale, and in a sharp tone she
+answered:
+
+"Why don't you ask your wife?"
+
+Serge smiled.
+
+"You or nobody."
+
+Jeanne raised her eyes boldly, and looking at him in the face, said,
+defiantly:
+
+"Well, then, nobody!"
+
+And, rising, she took the arm of Cayrol, who was advancing toward her.
+
+The Prince remained motionless for a moment, following them with his
+eyes. Then, seeing his wife alone with Madame Desvarennes, he went out
+on the terrace. Already the couples were dancing on the polished marble.
+Joyful bursts of laughter rose in the perfumed air that sweet March
+night. A deep sorrow came over Serge; an intense disgust with all
+things. The sea sparkled, lit up by the moon. He had a mad longing to
+seize Jeanne in his arms and carry her far away from the world, across
+that immense calm space which seemed made expressly to rock sweetly
+eternal loves.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV. MOTHER AND DAUGHTER
+
+Micheline intended following her husband, but Madame Desvarennes,
+without rising, took hold of her hand.
+
+"Stay with me for a little while," she said, tenderly. "We have scarcely
+exchanged ten words since my arrival. Come, tell me, are you pleased to
+see me?"
+
+"How can you ask me that?" answered Micheline, seating herself on the
+sofa beside her mother.
+
+"I ask you so that you may tell me so," resumed Madame Desvarennes,
+softly. "I know what you think, but that is not enough." She added
+pleadingly:
+
+"Kiss me, will you?"
+
+Micheline threw her arms round her mother's neck, saying, "Dear mamma!"
+which made tears spring to the tortured mother's eyes. She folded
+her-daughter in her arms, and clasped her as a miser holds his treasure.
+
+"It is a long time since I have heard you speak thus to me. Two months!
+And I have been desolate in that large house you used to fill alone in
+the days gone by."
+
+The young wife interrupted her mother, reproachfully:
+
+"Oh! mamma; I beg you to be reasonable."
+
+"To be reasonable? In other words, I suppose you mean that I am to get
+accustomed to living without you, after having for twenty years devoted
+my life to you? Bear, without complaining, that my happiness should be
+taken away, and now that I am old lead a life without aim, without joy,
+without trouble even, because I know if you had any troubles you would
+not tell me!"
+
+There was a moment's pause. Then Micheline, in a constrained manner,
+said:
+
+"What griefs could I have?"
+
+Madame Desvarennes lost all patience, and giving vent to her feelings
+exclaimed, bitterly:
+
+"Those which your husband causes you!"
+
+Micheline arose abruptly.
+
+"Mother!" she cried.
+
+But the mistress had commenced, and with unrestrained bitterness, went
+on:
+
+"That gentleman has behaved toward me in such a manner as to shake my
+confidence in him! After vowing that he would never separate you from
+me, he brought you here, knowing that I could not leave Paris."
+
+"You are unjust," retorted Micheline. "You know the doctors ordered me
+to go to Nice."
+
+"Pooh! You can make doctors order you anything you like!" resumed her
+mother, excitedly, and shaking her head disdainfully. "Your husband said
+to our good Doctor Rigaud: 'Don't you think that a season in the South
+would do my wife good?' The doctor answered: 'If it does not do her any
+good it certainly won't do her any harm.' Then your husband added, 'just
+take a sheet of paper and write out a prescription. You understand? It
+is for my mother-in-law, who will not be pleased at our going away.'"
+
+And as Micheline seemed to doubt what she was saying, the latter added:
+
+"The doctor told me when I went to see him about it. I never had much
+faith in doctors, and now--"
+
+Micheline felt she was on delicate ground, and wanted to change the
+subject. She soothed her mother as in days gone by, saying:
+
+"Come, mamma; will you never be able to get used to your part? Must
+you always be jealous? You know all wives leave their mothers to follow
+their husbands. It is the law of nature. You, in your day, remember,
+followed your husband, and your mother must have wept."
+
+"Did my mother love me as I love you?" asked Madame Desvarennes,
+impetuously. "I was brought up differently. We had not time to love each
+other so much. We had to work. The happiness of spoiling one's child is
+a privilege of the rich. For you there was no down warm enough or silk
+soft enough to line your cradle. You have been petted and worshipped
+for twenty years. Yet, it only needed a man, whom you scarcely knew six
+months ago, to make you forget everything."
+
+"I have not forgotten anything," replied Micheline, moved by these
+passionate expressions. "And in my heart you still hold the same place."
+
+The mistress looked at the young wife, then, in a sad tone, said:
+
+"It is no longer the first place."
+
+This simple, selfish view made Micheline smile.
+
+"It is just like you, you tyrant!" she exclaimed. "You must be first.
+Come, be satisfied with equality! Remember that you were first in the
+field, and that for twenty years I have loved you, while he has to make
+up for lost time. Don't try to make a comparison between my love for him
+and my affection for you. Be kind: instead of looking black at him, try
+to love him. I should be so happy to see you united, and to be able,
+without reservation, to think of you both with the same tenderness!"
+
+"Ah! how you talk me over. How charming and caressing you can be when
+you like. And how happy Serge ought to be with a wife like you! It is
+always the way; men like him always get the best wives."
+
+"I don't suppose, mamma, you came all the way from Paris to run down my
+husband to me."
+
+Madame Desvarennes became serious again.
+
+"No; I came to defend you."
+
+Micheline looked surprised.
+
+"It is time for me to speak. You are seriously menaced," continued the
+mother.
+
+"In my love?" asked the young wife, in an altered tone.
+
+"No; in your fortune."
+
+Micheline smiled superbly.
+
+"If that be all!"
+
+This indifference made her mother positively jump.
+
+"You speak very coolly about it! At the rate your husband is spending,
+there will be nothing left of your dowry in six months."
+
+"Well!" said the Princess, gayly, "you will give us another."
+
+Madame Desvarennes assumed her cold businesslike manner.
+
+"Ta! ta! ta! Do you think there is no limit to my resources? I gave
+you four millions when you were married, represented by fifteen hundred
+thousand francs, in good stock, a house in the Rue de Rivoli, and eight
+hundred thousand francs which I prudently kept in the business, and
+for which I pay you interest. The fifteen hundred thousand francs have
+vanished. My lawyer came to tell me that the house in the Rue de Rivoli
+had been sold without a reinvestment taking place."
+
+The mistress stopped. She had spoken in that frank, determined, way of
+hers that was part of her strength. She looked fixedly at Micheline, and
+asked:
+
+"Did you know this, my girl?"
+
+The Princess, deeply troubled, because now it was not a question of
+sentiment, but of serious moment, answered, in a low tone:
+
+"No, mamma."
+
+"How is that possible?" Madame Desvarennes demanded, hotly. "Nothing can
+be done without your signature."
+
+"I gave it," murmured Micheline.
+
+"You gave it!" repeated the mistress in a tone of anger. "When?"
+
+"The day after my marriage."
+
+"Your husband had the impudence to ask for it the day after your
+marriage?"
+
+Micheline smiled.
+
+"He did not ask for it, mamma," she replied, with sweetness; "I offered
+it to him. You had settled all on me."
+
+"Prudently! With a fellow like your husband!"
+
+"Your mistrust must have been humiliating to him. I was ashamed of it.
+I said nothing to you, because I knew you would rather prevent the
+marriage, and I loved Serge. I, therefore, signed the contract which you
+had had prepared. Only the next day I gave a general power of attorney
+to my husband."
+
+Madame Desvarennes's anger was over. She was observing Micheline, and
+wished to find out the depth of the abyss into which her daughter had
+thrown herself with blind confidence.
+
+"And what did he say then?" she inquired.
+
+"Nothing," answered Micheline, simply. "Tears came to his eyes, and he
+kissed me. I saw that this delicacy touched his heart and I was happy.
+There, mamma," she added with eyes sparkling at the remembrance of the
+pleasure she had experienced, "he may spend as much as he likes; I am
+amply repaid beforehand."
+
+Madame Desvarennes shrugged her shoulders, and said:
+
+"My dear child, you are mad enough to be locked up. What is there about
+the fellow to turn every woman's brain?"
+
+"Every woman's?" exclaimed Micheline, anxiously, looking at her mother.
+
+"That is a manner of speaking. But, my dear, you must understand that I
+cannot be satisfied with what you have just told me. A tear and a kiss!
+Bah! That is not worth your dowry."
+
+"Come, mamma, do let me be happy."
+
+"You can be happy without committing follies. You do not need a
+racing-stable."
+
+"Oh, he has chosen such pretty colors," interrupted Micheline, with a
+smile. "Pearl-gray and silver, and pink cap. It is charming!"
+
+"You think so? Well, you are not difficult to please. And the club? What
+do you say to his gambling?"
+
+Micheline turned pale, and with a constraint which hurt her mother,
+said:
+
+"Is it necessary to make a fuss about a few games at bouillotte?"
+
+This continual defense of Serge exasperated Madame Desvarennes.
+
+"Don't talk to me," she continued, violently. "I am well informed on
+that subject. He leaves you alone every evening to go and play with
+gentlemen who turn up the king with a dexterity the Legitimists must
+envy. My dear, shall I tell you his fortune? He commenced with cards; he
+continues with horses; he will finish with worthless women!"
+
+"Mamma!" cried Micheline, wounded to the heart.
+
+"And your money will pay the piper! But, happily, I am here to put your
+household matters right. I am going to keep your gentleman so well under
+that in future he will walk straight, I'll warrant you!"
+
+Micheline rose and stood before her mother, looking so pale that the
+latter was frightened.
+
+"Mother," she said, in trembling tones, "if ever you say one word to my
+husband, take care! I shall never see you again!"
+
+Madame Desvarennes flinched before her daughter. It was no longer the
+weak Micheline who trusted to her tears, but a vehement woman ready to
+defend him whom she loved. And as she remained silent, not daring to
+speak again:
+
+"Mother," continued Micheline, with sadness, yet firmly, "this
+explanation was inevitable; I have suffered beforehand, knowing that I
+should have to choose between my affection for my husband and my respect
+for you."
+
+"Between the one and the other," said the mistress, bitterly, "you don't
+hesitate, I see."
+
+"It is my duty; and if I failed in it, you yourself, with your good
+sense, would see it."
+
+"Oh! Micheline, could I have expected to find you thus?" cried the
+mother, in despair. "What a change! It is not you who are speaking; it
+is not my daughter. Fool that you are! Don't you see whither you are
+being led? You, yourself, are preparing your own misfortune. Don't think
+that my words are inspired by jealousy. A higher sentiment dictates
+them, and at this moment my maternal love gives me, I fear, a foresight
+of the future. There is only just time to rescue you from the danger
+into which you are running. You hope to retain your husband by your
+generosity? There where you think you are giving proofs of love he will
+only see proofs of weakness. If you make yourself cheap he will count
+you as nothing. If you throw yourself at his feet he will trample on
+you."
+
+The Princess shook her head haughtily, and smiled.
+
+"You don't know him, mamma. He is a gentleman; he understands all these
+delicacies, and there is more to be gained by submitting one's self to
+his discretion, than by trying to resist his will. You blame his manner
+of existence, but you don't understand him. I know him. He belongs to
+a different race than you and I. He needs refinements of luxury which
+would be useless to us, but the deprivation of which would be hard to
+him. He suffered much when he was poor, he is making up for it now. We
+are guilty of some extravagances, 'tis true; but what does it matter?
+For whom have you made a fortune? For me! For what object? My happiness!
+Well, I am happy to surround my Prince with the glory and pomp which
+suits him so well. He is grateful to me; he loves me, and I hold his
+love dearer than all else in the world; for if ever he ceases to love me
+I shall die!"
+
+"Micheline!" cried Madame Desvarennes, beside herself, and seizing her
+daughter with nervous strength.
+
+The young wife quietly allowed her fair head to fall on her mother's
+shoulder, and whispered faintly in her ear:
+
+"You don't want to wreck my life. I understand your displeasure. It
+is natural; I feel it. You cannot think otherwise than you do, being a
+simple, hardworking woman; but I beg of you to banish all hatred, and
+confine these ideas within yourself. Say nothing more about them for
+love of me!"
+
+The mother was vanquished. She had never been able to resist that
+suppliant voice.
+
+"Ah! cruel child," she moaned, "what pain you are causing me!"
+
+"You consent, don't you, dear mother?" murmured Micheline, falling into
+the arms of her by whom she knew she was adored.
+
+"I will do as you wish," said Madame Desvarennes, kissing her daughter's
+hair--that golden hair which, in former days, she loved to stroke.
+
+The strains of the piano sounded on the terrace. In the shade, groups
+of merry dancers were enjoying themselves. Happy voices were heard
+approaching, and Savinien, followed by Marechal and Suzanne, came
+briskly up the steps.
+
+"Oh, aunt, it is not fair," said the dandy. "If you have come here
+to monopolize Micheline, you will be sent back to Paris. We want a
+vis-a-vis for a quadrille. Come, Princess, it is delightfully cool
+outside, and I am sure you will enjoy it."
+
+"Monsieur Le Brede has gathered some oranges, and is trying to play
+at cup and ball with them on his nose, while his friend, Monsieur du
+Tremblay, jealous of his success, talks of illuminating the trees with
+bowls of punch," said Marechal.
+
+"And what is Serge doing?" inquired Micheline, smiling.
+
+"He is talking to my wife on the terrace," said Cayrol, appearing in the
+gallery.
+
+The young people went off and were lost in the darkness. Madame
+Desvarennes looked at Cayrol. He was happy and calm. There was no trace
+of his former jealousy. During the six months which had elapsed since
+his marriage, the banker had observed his wife closely, her actions, her
+words: nothing had escaped him. He had never found her at fault. Thus,
+reassured, he had given her his confidence and this time forever. Jeanne
+was adorable; he loved her more than ever. She seemed very much changed
+to him. Her disposition, formerly somewhat harsh, had softened, and the
+haughty, capricious girl had become a mild, demure, and somewhat
+serious woman. Unable to read his companion's thoughts, Cayrol sincerely
+believed that he had been unnecessarily anxious, and that Jeanne's
+troubles had only been passing fancies. He took credit of the change in
+his wife to himself, and was proud of it.
+
+"Cayrol, oblige me by removing that lamp; it hurts my eyes," said Madame
+Desvarennes, anxious that the traces on her face, caused by her late
+discussion with her daughter, should not be visible. "Then ask Jeanne to
+come here for a few minutes. I have something to say to her."
+
+"Certainly," said Cayrol, taking the lamp off the table and carrying it
+into the adjoining room.
+
+Darkness did Madame Desvarennes good. It refreshed her mind and calmed
+her brow. The noise of dancing reached her. She commenced thinking. So
+it had vainly tried to prove to her that a life of immoderate pleasure
+was not conducive to happiness. The young wife had stopped her ears so
+that she might not hear, and closed her eyes that she might not see. Her
+mother asked herself if she did not exaggerate the evil. Alas! no. She
+saw that she was not mistaken. Examining the society around her, men and
+women: everywhere was feverish excitement, dissipation, and nullity. You
+might rummage through their brains without finding one practical idea;
+in all their hearts, there was not one lofty aspiration. These people,
+in their daily life were like squirrels in a cage, and because they
+moved, they thought they were progressing. In them scepticism had killed
+belief; religion, family, country, were, as they phrased it, all humbug.
+They had only one aim, one passion--to enjoy themselves. Their watchword
+was "pleasure." All those who did not perish of consumption would die in
+lunatic asylums.
+
+What was she doing in the midst of this rottenness? She, the woman
+of business? Could she hope to regenerate these poor wretches by her
+example? No! She could not teach them to be good, and they excelled in
+teaching others harm. She must leave this gilded vice, taking with
+her those she loved, and leave the idle and incompetent to consume and
+destroy themselves.
+
+She felt disgusted, and resolved to do all to tear Micheline away
+from the contagion. In the meantime she must question Jeanne. A shadow
+appeared on the threshold: it was hers. In the darkness of the gallery
+Serge crept behind her without being seen. He had been watching Jeanne,
+and seeing her go away alone, had followed her. In the angle of the
+large bay-window, opening into the garden, he waited with palpitating
+heart. Madame Desvarennes's voice was heard in the silence of the
+drawing-room; he listened.
+
+"Sit down, Jeanne; our interview will be short, and it could not be
+delayed, for to-morrow I shall not be here."
+
+"You are leaving so soon?"
+
+"Yes; I only left Paris on my daughter's account, and on yours. My
+daughter knows what I had to tell her; now it is your turn! Why did you
+come to Nice?"
+
+"I could not do otherwise."
+
+"Because?"
+
+"Because my husband wished it."
+
+"You ought to have made him wish something else. Your power over him is
+absolute."
+
+There was a moment's pause. Then Jeanne answered:
+
+"I feared to insist lest I should awaken his suspicions."
+
+"Good! But admitting that you came to Nice, why accept hospitality in
+this house?"
+
+"Micheline offered it to us," said Jeanne.
+
+"And even that did not make you refuse. What part do you purpose playing
+here? After six months of honesty, are you going to change your mind?"
+
+Serge, behind his shelter, shuddered. Madame Desvarennes's words were
+clear. She knew all.
+
+Jeanne's voice was indignant when she replied:
+
+"By what right do you insult me by such a suspicion?"
+
+"By the right which you have given me in not keeping to your bargain.
+You ought to have kept out of the way, and I find you here, seeking
+danger and already trying those flirtations which are the forerunners of
+sin, and familiarizing yourself with evil before wholly giving yourself
+up to it."
+
+"Madame!" cried Jeanne, passionately.
+
+"Answer! Have you kept the promise you made me?"
+
+"Have the hopes which you held out to me been realized?" replied Jeanne,
+with despair. "For six months I have been away, and have I found peace
+of mind and heart? The duty which you pointed out to me as a remedy for
+the pain which tortured me I have fruitlessly followed. I have wept,
+hoping that the trouble within me would be washed away with my tears. I
+have prayed to Heaven, and asked that I might love my husband. But, no!
+That man is as odious to me as ever. Now I have lost all my illusions,
+and find myself joined to him for the rest of my days! I have to tell
+lies, to wear a mask, to smile! It is revolting, and I suffer! Now
+that you know what is passing within me, judge, and say whether your
+reproaches are not a useless cruelty."
+
+On hearing Jeanne, Madame Desvarennes felt herself moved with deep
+pity. She asked herself whether it was not unjust for that poor child to
+suffer so much. She had never done anything wrong, and her conduct was
+worthy of esteem.
+
+"Unhappy woman!" she said.
+
+"Yes, unhappy, indeed," resumed Jeanne, "because I have nothing to cling
+to, nothing to sustain me. My mind is afflicted with feverish thoughts,
+my heart made desolate with bitter regrets. My will alone protects me,
+and in a moment of weakness it may betray me."
+
+"You still love him?" asked Madame Desvarennes, in a deep voice which
+made Serge quiver.
+
+"Do I know? There are times when I think I hate him. What I have endured
+since I have been here is incredible! Everything galls me, irritates me.
+My husband is blind, Micheline unsuspicious, and Serge smiles quietly,
+as if he were preparing some treachery. Jealousy, anger, contempt, are
+all conflicting within me. I feel that I ought to go away, and still I
+feel a horrible delight in remaining."
+
+"Poor child!" said Madame Desvarennes. "I pity you from my soul. Forgive
+my unjust words; you have done all in your power. You have had momentary
+weaknesses like all human beings. You must be helped, and may rely on
+me. I will speak to your husband to-morrow; he shall take you away.
+Lacking happiness, you must have peace. Go you are a brave heart, and if
+Heaven be just, you will be rewarded."
+
+Serge heard the sound of a kiss. In an embrace, the mother had blessed
+her adopted daughter. Then the Prince saw Madame Desvarennes go slowly
+past him. And the silence was broken only by the sobs of Jeanne who was
+half lying on the sofa in the darkness.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI. THE TELLTALE KISS
+
+Serge slipped from his hiding-place and came toward Jeanne. The carpet
+deadened the sound of his steps. The young woman was gazing into vacancy
+and breathing with difficulty. He looked at her for a moment without
+speaking; then, leaning over her shoulder.
+
+"Is it true, Jeanne," he murmured, softly, "that you hate me?"
+
+Jeanne arose, bewildered, exclaiming,
+
+"Serge!"
+
+"Yes, Serge," answered the Prince, "who has never ceased to love you."
+
+A deep blush spread over the young woman's face.
+
+"Leave me," she said. "Your language is unworthy of a man. I will not
+listen to you."
+
+And with a quick step she walked toward the gallery. Serge threw himself
+in her way, saying:
+
+"You must stop; you cannot escape me."
+
+"But this is madness," exclaimed Jeanne, moving away. "Do you forget
+where we are?"
+
+"Do you forget what you have just been saying?" retorted Serge. "I was
+there; I did not miss a word."
+
+"If you heard me," said Jeanne, "you know that everything separates us.
+My duty, yours, and my will."
+
+"A will which is enforced, and against which your heart rebels. A will
+to which I will not submit."
+
+As he spoke, Serge advanced toward her, trying to seize her in his arms.
+
+"Take care!" replied Jeanne. "Micheline and my husband are there. You
+must be mad to forget it. If you come a step farther I shall call out."
+
+"Call, then!" cried Serge, clasping her in his arms.
+
+Jeanne tried to free herself from him, but could not.
+
+"Serge," she said, paling with mingled anguish and rapture in the arms
+of him whom she adored, "what you are doing is cowardly and base!"
+
+A kiss stopped the words on her lips. Jeanne felt herself giving way.
+She made a supreme effort.
+
+"I won't, Serge!" she stammered. "Have mercy!"
+
+Tears of shame rolled down her face.
+
+"No! you belong to me. The other, your husband, stole you from me. I
+take you back. I love you!"
+
+The young woman fell on a seat.
+
+Serge repeated,
+
+"I love you! I love you! I love you!"
+
+A fearful longing took possession of Jeanne. She no longer pushed away
+the arms which clasped her. She placed her hands on Serge's shoulder,
+and with a deep sigh gave herself up.
+
+A profound silence reigned around. Suddenly a sound of approaching
+voices roused them, and at the same moment the heavy curtain which
+separated the room from the adjoining drawing-room was lifted. A shadow
+appeared on the threshold, as they were still in each other's arms. The
+stifled exclamation, "O God!" followed by a sob of agony, resounded.
+The door curtain fell, surrounding with its folds the unknown witness of
+that terrible scene.
+
+Jeanne had risen, trying to collect her ideas. A sudden light dawned on
+her mind; she realized in a moment the extent of her crime, and uttering
+a cry of horror and despair, she escaped, followed by Serge, through the
+gallery.
+
+Then the heavy curtain was lifted again, and tottering, livid, almost
+dead, Micheline entered the room. Pierre, serious and cold, walked
+behind her. The Princess, feeling tired, had come into the house. Chance
+had led her there to witness this proof of misfortune and treason.
+
+Both she and Delarue looked at each other, silent and overwhelmed. Their
+thoughts whirled through their brains with fearful rapidity. In a moment
+they looked back on their existence. He saw the pale betrothed of whom
+he had dreamed as a wife, who had willingly given herself to another,
+and who now found herself so cruelly punished. She measured the distance
+which separated these two men: the one good, loyal, generous; the other
+selfish, base, and unworthy. And seeing him whom she adored, so vile and
+base compared to him whom she had disdained, Micheline burst into bitter
+tears.
+
+Pierre tremblingly hastened toward her. The Princess made a movement
+to check him, but she saw on the face of her childhood's friend such
+sincere grief and honest indignation, that she felt as safe, with him
+as if he had really been her brother. Overcome, she let her head fall on
+his shoulder, and wept.
+
+The sound of approaching footsteps made Micheline arise. She recognized
+her husband's step, and hastily seizing Pierre's hand, said:
+
+"Never breathe a word; forget what you have seen."
+
+Then, with deep grief, she added:
+
+"If Serge knew that I had seen him unawares he would never forgive me!"
+
+Drying her tears, and still tottering from the shock, she left the room.
+Pierre remained alone, quite stunned; pitying, yet blaming the poor
+woman, who, in her outraged love, still had the absurd courage to hold
+her tongue and to resign herself. Anger seized on him, and the more
+timid Micheline seemed herself, the more violent and passionate he felt.
+
+Serge came back to the room. After the first moment of excitement, he
+had reflected, and wanted to know by whom he had been observed. Was it
+Madame Desvarennes, Micheline, or Cayrol, who had come in? At this idea
+he trembled, measuring the possible results of the imprudence he had
+been guilty of. He resolved to face the difficulty if it were either of
+these three interested parties, and to impose silence if he had to deal
+with an indifferent person. He took the lamp which Madame Desvarennes
+had a short time before asked Cayrol to remove and went into the room.
+Pierre was there alone.
+
+The two men measured each other with their looks. Delarue guessed the
+anxiety of Serge, and the Prince understood the hostility of Pierre. He
+turned pale.
+
+"It was you who came in?" he asked, boldly.
+
+"Yes," replied Pierre, with severity.
+
+The Prince hesitated for a second. He was evidently seeking a polite
+form to express his request. He did not find one, and in a threatening
+manner, he resumed:
+
+"You must hold your tongue, otherwise--"
+
+"Otherwise?" inquired Pierce, aggressively.
+
+"What is the use of threats?" replied Serge, already calmed. "Excuse me;
+I know that you will not tell; if not for my sake at least for that of
+others."
+
+"Yes, for others," said Pierre, passionately; "for others whom you have
+basely sacrificed, and who deserve all your respect and love; for
+Madame Desvarennes, whose high intelligence you have not been able to
+understand; for Micheline, whose tender heart you have not been able to
+appreciate. Yes, for their sakes I will hold my peace, not out of regard
+for you, because you neither deserve consideration nor esteem."
+
+The Prince advanced a step, and exclaimed:
+
+"Pierre!"
+
+Pierre did not move, and looking Serge in the face, continued:
+
+"The truth is unpleasant to you, still you must hear it. You act
+according to your fancies. Principles and morals, to which all men
+submit, are dead letters to you. Your own pleasure above all things, and
+always! That is your rule, eh? and so much the worse if ruin and trouble
+to others are the consequences? You only have to deal with two women,
+and you profit by it. But I warn you that if you continue to crush them
+I will be their defender."
+
+Serge had listened to all this with disdainful impassibility, and when
+Pierre had finished, he smiled, snapped his fingers, and turning toward
+the young man:
+
+"My dear fellow," said he, "allow me to tell you that I think you are
+very impertinent. You come here meddling with my affairs. What authority
+have you? Are you a relative? A connection? By what right do you preach
+this sermon?"
+
+As he concluded, Serge seated himself and laughed with a careless air.
+
+Pierre answered, gravely:
+
+"I was betrothed to Micheline when she saw and loved you: that is my
+right! I could have married her, but sacrificed my love to hers: that
+is my authority! And it is in the name of my shattered hopes and lost
+happiness that I call you to account for her future peace."
+
+Serge had risen, he was deeply embittered at what Delarue had just told
+him, and was trying to recover his calmness. Pierre, trembling with
+emotion and anger, was also striving to check their influence.
+
+"It seems to me," said the Prince, mockingly, "that in your claim there
+is more than the outcry of an irritated conscience; it is the complaint
+of a heart that still loves."
+
+"And if that were so?" retorted Pierre. "Yes, I love her, but with a
+pious love, from the depth of my soul, as one would love a saint; and I
+only suffer the more to see her suffering."
+
+Somewhat irritated the Prince exclaimed, impatiently:
+
+"Oh, don't let us have a lyric recitation; let us be brief and clear.
+What do you want? Explain yourself. I don't suppose that you have
+addressed this rebuke to me solely for the purpose of telling me that
+you are in love with my wife!"
+
+Pierre disregarded what was insulting in the Prince's answer, and
+calming himself, by force of will, replied:
+
+"I desire, since you ask me, that you forget the folly and error of
+a moment, and that you swear to me on your honor never to see Madame
+Cayrol again."
+
+Pierre's moderation wounded the Prince more than his rage had affected
+him. He felt petty beside this devoted friend, who only thought of the
+happiness of her whom he loved without hope. His temper increased.
+
+"And what if I refuse to lend myself to those whims which you express so
+candidly?"
+
+"Then," said Pierre, resolutely, "I shall remember that, when renouncing
+Micheline, I promised to be a brother to her, and if you compel me I
+will defend her."
+
+"You are threatening me, I think," cried Serge, beside himself.
+
+"No! I warn you."
+
+"Enough," said the Prince, scarcely able to command himself. "For any
+little service you have rendered me, from henceforth we are quits. Don't
+think that I am one of those who yield to violence. Keep out of my path;
+it will be prudent."
+
+"Listen, then, to this. I am not one of those who shirk a duty,
+whatever the peril be in accomplishing it. You know what price I put on
+Micheline's happiness; you are responsible for it, and I shall oblige
+you to respect it."
+
+And leaving Serge dumb with suppressed rage, Pierre went out on the
+terrace.
+
+On the high road the sound of the carriages bearing away Savinien,
+Herzog and his daughter, resounded in the calm starry night. In
+the villa everything was quiet. Pierre breathed with delight; he
+instinctively turned his eyes toward the brilliant sky, and in the
+far-off firmament, the star which he appropriated to himself long ago,
+and which he had so desperately looked for when he was unhappy, suddenly
+appeared bright and twinkling. He sighed and moved on.
+
+The Prince spent a part of the night at the club; he was excessively
+nervous, and after alternate losses and gains, he retired, carrying off
+a goodly sum from his opponents. It was a long time since he had been so
+lucky, and on his way home he smiled when he thought how false was the
+proverb, "Lucky at play, unlucky in love." He thought of that adorable
+Jeanne whom he had held in his arms a few hours before, and who had so
+eagerly clung to him. He understood that she had never ceased to belong
+to him. The image of Cayrol, self-confident man, happy in his love,
+coming to his mind, caused Serge to laugh.
+
+There was no thought for Micheline; she had been the stepping-stone to
+fortune for him; he knew that she was gentle and thought her not very
+discerning. He could easily deceive her; with a few caresses and a
+little consideration he could maintain the illusion of his love for her.
+Madame Desvarennes alone inconvenienced him in his arrangements. She was
+sagacious, and on several occasions he had seen her unveil plots which
+he thought were well contrived. He must really beware of her. He had
+often noticed in her voice and look an alarming hardness. She was not a
+woman to be afraid of a scandal. On the contrary, she would hail it with
+joy, and be happy to get rid of him whom she hated with all her might.
+
+In spite of himself, Serge remembered the night of his union to
+Micheline, when he had said to Madame Desvarennes: "Take my life; it is
+yours!" She had replied seriously, and almost threateningly: "Very well;
+I accept it!" These words now resounded in his ears like a verdict.
+He promised himself to play a sure game with Madame Desvarennes. As
+to Cayrol, he was out of the question; he had only been created as a
+plaything for princes such as Serge; his destiny was written on his
+forehead, and he could not escape. If it had not been Panine, some one
+else would have done the same thing for him. Besides, how could that
+ex-cowherd expect to keep such a woman as Jeanne was to himself. It
+would have been manifestly unfair.
+
+The Prince found his valet asleep in the hall. He went quickly to his
+bedroom, and slept soundly without remorse, without dreams, until noon.
+Coming down to breakfast, he found the family assembled. Savinien had
+come to see his aunt, before whom he wanted to place a "colossal
+idea." This time, he said, it was worth a fortune. He hoped to draw six
+thousand francs from the mistress who, according to her usual custom,
+could not fail to buy from him what he called his idea.
+
+The dandy was thoughtful; he was preparing his batteries. Micheline,
+pale, and her eyes red for want of rest, was seated near the gallery,
+silently watching the sea, on which were passing, in the distance,
+fishing-smacks with their sails looking like white-winged birds. Madame
+Desvarennes was serious, and was giving Marechal instructions respecting
+her correspondence, while at the same time watching her daughter out
+of the corner of her eye. Micheline's depressed manner caused her some
+anxiety; she guessed some mystery. Still the young wife's trouble might
+be the result of last evening's serious interview. But the sagacity of
+the mistress guessed a new incident. Perhaps some scene between Serge
+and Micheline in regard to the club. She was on the watch.
+
+Cayrol and Jeanne had gone for a drive to Mentone. With a single glance
+the Prince took in the attitude of one and all, and after a polite
+exchange of words and a careless kiss on Micheline's brow, he seated
+himself at table. The repast was silent. Each one seemed preoccupied.
+Serge anxiously asked himself whether Pierre had spoken. Marechal,
+deeply interested in his plate, answered briefly, when addressed by
+Madame Desvarennes. All the guests seemed constrained. It was a relief
+when they rose from the table.
+
+Micheline took her husband's arm and leading him into the garden, under
+the shade of the magnolias, said to him:
+
+"My mother leaves us to-night. She has received a letter recalling her
+to Paris. Her journey here was, you no doubt know, on our account. Our
+absence made her sad, and she could no longer refrain from seeing me, so
+she came. On her return to Paris she will feel very lonely, and as I am
+so often alone--"
+
+"Micheline!" interrupted Serge, with astonishment.
+
+"It is not a reproach, dear," continued the young wife, sweetly. "You
+have your engagements. There are necessities to which one must submit;
+you do what you think is expected of you, and it must be right. Only
+grant me a favor."
+
+"A favor? To you?" replied Serge, troubled at the unexpected turn the
+interview was taking. "Speak, dear one; are you not at liberty to do as
+you like?"
+
+"Well," said Micheline, with a faint smile, "as you are so kindly
+disposed, promise that we shall leave for Paris this week. The season is
+far advancing. All your friends will have returned. It will not be such
+a great sacrifice which I ask from you."
+
+"Willingly," said Serge, surprised at Micheline's sudden resolution.
+"But, admit," added he, gravely, "that your mother has worried you a
+little on the subject."
+
+"My mother knows nothing of my project," returned the Princess, coldly.
+"I did not care to say anything about it to her until I had your
+consent. A refusal on your part would have seemed too cruel. Already,
+you are not the best of friends, and it is one of my regrets. You must
+be good to my mother, Serge; she is getting old, and we owe her much
+gratitude and love."
+
+Panine remained silent. Could such a sudden change have come over
+Micheline in one day? She who lately sacrificed her mother for her
+husband now came and pleaded in favor of Madame Desvarennes. What had
+happened?
+
+He promptly decided on his course of action.
+
+"All that you ask me shall be religiously fulfilled. No concession will
+be too difficult for me to make if it please you. You wish to return
+to Paris, we will go as soon as our arrangements have been made. Tell
+Madame Desvarennes, then, and let her see in our going a proof that I
+wish to live on good terms with her."
+
+Micheline simply said: "Thank you." And Serge having gallantly kissed
+her hand, she regained the terrace.
+
+Left alone, Serge asked himself the meaning of the transformation in his
+wife. For the first time she had shown signs of taking the initiative.
+Had the question of money been raised by Madame Desvarennes, and was
+Micheline taking him back to Paris in the hope of inducing a change in
+his habits? They would see. The idea that Micheline had seen him with
+Jeanne never occurred to him. He did not think his wife capable of so
+much self-control. Loving as she was, she could not have controlled
+her feelings, and would have made a disturbance. Therefore he had no
+suspicions.
+
+As to their leaving for Paris he was delighted at the idea. Jeanne and
+Cayrol were leaving Nice at the end of the week. Lost in the vastness of
+the capital, the lovers would be more secure. They could see each other
+at leisure. Serge would hire a small house in the neighborhood of
+the Bois de Boulogne, and there they could enjoy each other's society
+without observation.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII. CAYROL IS BLIND
+
+Micheline, on her return to Paris, was a cause of anxiety to all her
+friends. Morally and physically she was changed. Her former gayety had
+disappeared. In a few weeks she became thin and seemed to be wasting
+away. Madame Desvarennes, deeply troubled, questioned her daughter,
+who answered, evasively, that she was perfectly well and had nothing to
+trouble her. The mother called in Doctor Rigaud, although she did not
+believe in the profession, and, after a long conference, took him to
+see Micheline. The doctor examined her, and declared it was nothing but
+debility. Madame Desvarennes was assailed with gloomy forebodings. She
+spent sleepless nights, during which she thought her daughter was dead;
+she heard the funeral dirges around her coffin. This strong woman wept,
+not daring to show her anxiety, and trembling lest Micheline should
+suspect her fears.
+
+Serge was careless and happy, treating the apprehensions of those
+surrounding him with perfect indifference. He did not think his wife was
+ill--a little tired perhaps, or it might be change of climate, nothing
+serious. He had quite fallen into his old ways, spending every night at
+the club, and a part of the day in a little house in the Avenue Maillot,
+near the Bois de Boulogne. He had found one charmingly furnished, and
+there he sheltered his guilty happiness.
+
+It was here that Jeanne came, thickly veiled, since her return from
+Nice. They each had a latchkey belonging to the door opening upon the
+Bois. The one who arrived first waited for the other, within the house,
+whose shutters remained closed to deceive passers-by. Then the hour of
+departure came; the hope of meeting again did not lessen their sadness
+at parting.
+
+Jeanne seldom went to the Rue Saint-Dominique. The welcome that
+Micheline gave her was the same as usual, but Jeanne thought she
+discovered a coldness which made her feel uncomfortable; and she did not
+care to meet her lover's wife, so she made her visits scarce.
+
+Cayrol came every morning to talk on business matters with Madame
+Desvarennes. He had resumed the direction of his banking establishment.
+The great scheme of the European Credit Company had been launched
+by Herzog, and promised great results. Still Herzog caused Cayrol
+considerable anxiety. Although a man of remarkable intelligence, he
+had a great failing, and by trying to grasp too much often ended by
+accomplishing nothing. Scarcely was one scheme launched when another
+idea occurred to him, to which he sacrificed the former.
+
+Thus, Herzog was projecting a still grander scheme to be based on the
+European Credit. Cayrol, less sanguine, and more practical, was afraid
+of the new scheme, and when Herzog spoke to him about it, said that
+things were well enough for him as they were, and that he would not be
+implicated in any fresh financial venture however promising.
+
+Cayrol's refusal had vexed Herzog. The German knew what opinion he was
+held in by the public, and that without the prestige of Cayrol's name,
+and behind that, the house of Desvarennes, he would never have been able
+to float the European Credit as it had been. He was too cunning not to
+know this, and Cayrol having declined to join him, he looked round in
+search of a suitable person to inspire the shareholders with confidence.
+
+His daughter often went to the Rue Saint-Dominique. Madame Desvarennes
+and Micheline had taken a fancy to her, as she was serious, natural, and
+homelike. They liked to see her, although her father was not congenial
+to their taste. Herzog had not succeeded in making friends with the
+mistress; she disliked and instinctively mistrusted him.
+
+One day it was rumored that Suzanne Herzog had gone in for an
+examination at the Hotel de Ville, and had gained a certificate: People
+thought it was very ridiculous. What was the good of so much learning
+for a girl who would have such a large fortune, and who would never know
+want. Savinien thought it was affectation and most laughable! Madame
+Desvarennes thought it was most interesting; she liked workers, and
+considered that the richer people were, the more reason they had
+to work. Herzog had allowed his daughter to please herself and said
+nothing.
+
+Springtime had come, and fine weather, yet Micheline's health did not
+improve. She did not suffer, but a sort of languor had come over
+her. For days she never quitted her reclining-chair. She was very
+affectionate toward her mother, and seemed to be making up for the lack
+of affection shown during the first months of her marriage.
+
+She never questioned Serge as to his manner of spending his time,
+though she seldom saw him, except at meal hours. Every week she wrote to
+Pierre, who was buried in his mines, and after every despatch her mother
+noticed that she seemed sadder and paler.
+
+Serge and Jeanne grew bolder. They felt that they were not watched. The
+little house seemed too small for them, and they longed to go beyond the
+garden, as the air of the Bois was so sweet and scented with violets.
+A feeling of bravado came over them, and they did not mind being seen
+together. People would think they were a newly-married couple.
+
+One afternoon they sallied forth, Jeanne wearing a thick veil, and
+trembling at the risk she was running, yet secretly delighted at going.
+They chose the most unfrequented paths and solitary nooks. Then, after
+an hour's stroll, they returned briskly, frightened at the sounds of
+carriages rolling in the distance. They often went out after that, and
+chose in preference the paths near the pond of Madrid where, behind
+sheltering shrubs, they sat talking and listening to the busy hum of
+Parisian life, seemingly so far away.
+
+One day, about four o'clock, Madame Desvarennes was going to Saint-Cloud
+on business, and was crossing the Bois de Boulogne. Her coachman had
+chosen the most unfrequented paths to save time. She had opened the
+carriage-window, and was enjoying the lovely scent from the shrubs.
+Suddenly a watering-cart stopped the way. Madame Desvarennes looked
+through the window to see what was the matter, and remained stupefied.
+At the turning of a path she espied Serge, with a woman on his arm. She
+uttered a cry that caused the couple to turn round. Seeing that pale
+face, they sought to hide themselves.
+
+In a moment Madame Desvarennes was out of the carriage. The guilty
+couple fled down a path. Without caring what might be said of her, and
+goaded on by a fearful rage, she tried to follow them. She especially
+wished to see the woman who was closely veiled. She guessed her to be
+Jeanne. But the younger woman, terrified, fled like a deer down a side
+walk. Madame Desvarennes, quite out of breath, was obliged to stop. She
+heard the slamming of a carriage-door, and a hired brougham that had
+been waiting at the end of the path swept by her bearing the lovers
+toward the town.
+
+The mistress hesitated a moment, then said to her coachman:
+
+"Drive home." And, abandoning her business, she arrived in the Rue
+Saint-Dominique a few minutes after the Prince.
+
+With a bound, without going through the offices, without even taking
+off her bonnet and cloak, she went up to Serge's apartments. Without
+hesitating, she entered the smoking-room.
+
+Panine was there. Evidently he was expecting her. On seeing Madame
+Desvarennes he rose, with a smile:
+
+"One can see that you are at home," said he, ironically; "you come in
+without knocking."
+
+"No nonsense; the moment is ill-chosen," briefly retorted the mistress.
+"Why did you run away when you saw me a little while ago?"
+
+"You have such a singular way of accosting people," he answered,
+lightly. "You come on like a charge of cavalry. The person with whom I
+was talking was frightened, she ran away and I followed her."
+
+"She was doing wrong then if she was frightened. Does she know me?"
+
+"Who does not know you? You are almost notorious--in the corn-market!"
+
+Madame Desvarennes allowed the insult to pass without remark, and
+advancing toward Serge, said:
+
+"Who is this woman?"
+
+"Shall I introduce her to you?" inquired the Prince, quietly. "She is
+one of my countrywomen, a Polish--"
+
+"You are a liar!" cried Madame Desvarennes, unable to control her temper
+any longer. "You are lying most impudently!"
+
+And she was going to add, "That woman was Jeanne!" but prudence checked
+the sentence on her lips.
+
+Serge turned pale.
+
+"You forget yourself strangely, Madame," he said, in a dry tone.
+
+"I forgot myself a year ago, not now! It was when I was weak that I
+forgot myself. When Micheline was between you and me I neither dared to
+speak nor act.
+
+"But now, since after almost ruining my poor daughter, you deceive her,
+I have no longer any consideration for you. To make her come over to my
+side I have only to speak one word."
+
+"Well, speak it! She is there. I will call her!"
+
+Madame Desvarennes, in that supreme moment, was assailed by a doubt.
+What if Micheline, in her blind love, did not believe her?
+
+She raised her hand to stop Serge.
+
+"Will not the fear of killing my daughter by this revelation stay you?"
+asked she, bitterly. "What manner of man are you to have so little heart
+and conscience?"
+
+Panine burst into laughter.
+
+"You see what your threats are worth, and what value I place on them.
+Spare them in the future. You ask me what manner of man I am? I will
+tell you. I have not much patience, I hate to have my liberty interfered
+with, and I have a horror of family jars. I expect to be master of my
+own house."
+
+Madame Desvarennes was roused at these words. Her rage had abated on her
+daughter's account, but now it rose to a higher pitch.
+
+"Ah! so this is it, is it?" she said. "You would like perfect liberty,
+I see! You make such very good use of it. You don't like to hear remarks
+upon it. It is more convenient, in fact! You wish to be master in your
+own house? In your own house! But, in truth, what are you here to put on
+airs toward me? Scarcely more than a servant. A husband receiving wages
+from me!"
+
+Serge, with flashing eyes, made a terrible movement. He tried to speak,
+but his lips trembled, and he could not utter a sound. By a sign he
+showed Madame Desvarennes the door. The latter looked resolutely at the
+Prince, and with energy which nothing could henceforth soften, added:
+
+"You will have to deal with me in future! Good-day!"
+
+And, leaving the room with as much calmness as she felt rage when
+entering it, she went down to the counting-house.
+
+Cayrol was sitting chatting with Marechal in his room. He was telling
+him that Herzog's rashness caused him much anxiety. Marechal did
+not encourage his confidence. The secretary's opinion on the want of
+morality on the part of the financier had strengthened. The good feeling
+he entertained toward the daughter had not counterbalanced the bad
+impression he had of the father, and he warmly advised Cayrol to break
+off all financial connection with such a man. Cayrol, indeed, had now
+very little to do with the European Credit. The office was still at
+his banking house, and the payments for shares were still made into
+his bank, but as soon as the new scheme which Herzog was preparing was
+launched, the financier intended settling in splendid offices which were
+being rapidly completed in the neighborhood of the Opera. Herzog might
+therefore commit all the follies which entered his head. Cayrol would be
+out of it.
+
+Madame Desvarennes entered. At the first glance, the men noticed the
+traces of the emotion she had just experienced. They rose and waited in
+silence. When the mistress was in a bad humor everybody gave way to
+her. It was the custom. She nodded to Cayrol, and walked up and down the
+office, absorbed in her own thoughts. Suddenly stopping, she said:
+
+"Marechal, prepare Prince Panine's account."
+
+The secretary looked up amazed, and did not seem to understand.
+
+"Well! The Prince has had an overdraft; you will give me a statement;
+that's all! I wish to see how we two stand."
+
+The two men, astonished to hear Madame Desvarennes speak of her
+son-in-law as she would of a customer, exchanged looks.
+
+"You have lent my son-in-law money, Cayrol?"
+
+And as the banker remained silent, still looking at the secretary,
+Madame added:
+
+"Does the presence of Marechal make you hesitate in answering me? Speak
+before him; I have told you more than a hundred times that he knows my
+business as well as I do."
+
+"I have, indeed, advanced some money to the Prince," replied Cayrol.
+
+"How much?" inquired Madame Desvarennes.
+
+"I don't remember the exact amount. I was happy to oblige your
+son-in-law."
+
+"You were wrong, and have acted unwisely in not acquainting me of the
+fact. It is thus that his follies have been encouraged by obliging
+friends. At all events, I ask you now not to lend him any more."
+
+Cayrol seemed put out, and, with his hands in his pockets and his
+shoulders up, replied:
+
+"This is a delicate matter which you ask of me. You will cause a quarrel
+between the Prince and myself--"
+
+"Do you prefer quarreling with me?" asked the mistress.
+
+"Zounds! No!" replied the banker. "But you place me in an embarrassing
+position! I have just promised to lend Serge a considerable sum
+to-night."
+
+"Well! you will not give it to him."
+
+"That is an act which he will scarcely forgive," sighed Cayrol.
+
+Madame Desvarennes placed her hand on the shoulder of the banker, and
+looking seriously at him, said:
+
+"You would not have forgiven me if I had allowed you to render him this
+service."
+
+A vague uneasiness filled Cayrol's heart, a shadow seemed to pass before
+his eyes, and in a troubled voice he said to the mistress:
+
+"Why so?"
+
+"Because he would have repaid you badly."
+
+Cayrol thought the mistress was alluding to the money he had already
+lent, and his fears vanished. Madame Desvarennes would surely repay it.
+
+"So you are cutting off his resources?" he asked.
+
+"Completely," answered the mistress. "He takes too much liberty, that
+young gentleman. He was wrong to forget that I hold the purse-strings. I
+don't mind paying, but I want a little deference shown me for my money.
+Good-by! Cayrol, remember my instructions."
+
+And, shaking hands with the banker, Madame Desvarennes entered her own
+office, leaving the two men together.
+
+There was a moment's pause: Cayrol was the first to break the silence.
+
+"What do you think of the Prince's position?"
+
+"His financial position?" asked Marechal.
+
+"Oh, no! I know all about that! I mean his relation to Madame
+Desvarennes."
+
+"Zounds! If we were in Venice in the days of the Aqua-Toffana, the
+sbirri and the bravi--"
+
+"What rubbish!" interrupted Cayrol, shrugging his shoulders.
+
+"Let me continue," said the secretary, "and you can shrug your shoulders
+afterward if you like. If we had been in Venice, knowing Madame
+Desvarennes as I do, it would not have been surprising to me to have had
+Master Serge found at the bottom of the canal some fine morning."
+
+"You are not in earnest," muttered the banker.
+
+"Much more so than you think. Only you know we live in the nineteenth
+century, and we cannot make Providence interpose in the form of a
+dagger or poison so easily as in former days. Arsenic and verdigris are
+sometimes used, but it does not answer. Scientific people have had the
+meanness to invent tests by which poison can be detected even when there
+is none."
+
+"You are making fun of me," said Cayrol, laughing.
+
+"I! No. Come, do you wish to do a good stroke of business? Find a man
+who will consent to rid Madame Desvarennes of her son-in-law. If he
+succeed, ask Madame Desvarennes for a million francs. I will pay it at
+only twenty-five francs' discount, if you like!"
+
+Cayrol was thoughtful. Marechal continued:
+
+"You have known the house a long time, how is it you don't understand
+the mistress better? I tell you, and remember this: between Madame
+Desvarennes and the Prince there is a mortal hatred. One of the two will
+destroy the other. Which? Betting is open."
+
+"But what must I do? The Prince relies on me--"
+
+"Go and tell him not to do so any longer."
+
+"Faith, no! I would rather he came to my office. I should be more at
+ease. Adieu, Marechal."
+
+"Adieu, Monsieur Cayrol. But on whom will you bet?"
+
+"Before I venture I should like to know on whose side the Princess is."
+
+"Ah, dangler! You think too much of the women! Some day you will be let
+in through that failing of yours!"
+
+Cayrol smiled conceitedly, and went away. Marechal sat down at his desk,
+and took out a sheet of paper.
+
+"I must tell Pierre that everything is going on well here," he murmured.
+"If he knew what was taking place he would soon be back, and might be
+guilty of some foolery or other." So he commenced writing.
+
+
+
+
+BOOK 4.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII. THE UNIVERSAL CREDIT COMPANY
+
+The banking-house of Cayrol had not a very imposing appearance. It was
+a narrow two-storied building, the front blackened by time. There was
+a carriage gateway, on the right-hand side of which was the entrance
+to the offices. The stairs leading to the first floor were covered by
+a well-worn carpet. Here was a long corridor into which the different
+offices opened. On their glass doors might be read: "Payments of
+dividends." "Accounts." "Foreign correspondence." "General office."
+Cayrol's own room was quite at the end, and communicated with his
+private apartments. Everything breathed of simplicity and honesty.
+Cayrol had never tried to throw dust into people's eyes. He had started
+modestly when opening the bank; his business had increased, but his
+habits had remained the same. It was not a difficult matter to obtain
+an interview, even by people not known to him. They sent in their cards,
+and were admitted to his sanctum.
+
+It was amid the coming and going of customers and clerks that Prince
+Panine came the following day to find Cayrol. For the first time Serge
+had put himself out for the banker. He was introduced with marks of the
+most profound respect. The great name of Desvarennes seemed to cast a
+kind of halo round his head in the eyes of the clerks.
+
+Cayrol, a little embarrassed, but still resolute, went toward him.
+Serge seemed nervous and somewhat abrupt in manner. He foresaw some
+difficulty.
+
+"Well! my dear fellow," he said, without sitting down. "What are you up
+to? I have waited since yesterday for the money you promised me."
+
+Cayrol scratched his ear, and felt taken aback by this plain speaking.
+
+"The fact is--" stammered he.
+
+"Have you forgotten your engagement?" asked Serge, frowning.
+
+"No," replied Cayrol, speaking slowly, "but I met Madame Desvarennes
+yesterday."
+
+"And what had that to do with your intentions?"
+
+"Zounds! It had everything to do with them. Your mother-in-law made a
+scene, and forbade my lending you any money. You must understand, my
+dear Prince, that my relations with Madame Desvarennes are important.
+I hold a great deal of money of hers in my bank. She first gave me a
+start. I cannot, without appearing ungrateful, act contrary to her will.
+Place yourself in my position, and judge impartially of the terrible
+alternative between obliging you and displeasing my benefactress."
+
+"Don't cry; it is useless," said Serge, with a scornful laugh. "I
+sympathize with your troubles. You side with the money-bags. It remains
+to be seen whether you will gain by it."
+
+"My dear Prince, I swear to you that I am in despair," cried Cayrol,
+annoyed at the turn the interview was taking. "Listen; be reasonable! I
+don't know what you have done to your mother-in-law, but she seems much
+vexed with you. In your place I would rather make a few advances than
+remain hostile toward Madame Desvarennes. That would mend matters, you
+see. Flies are not to be caught with vinegar."
+
+Serge looked contemptuously at Cayrol, and put on his hat with supreme
+insolence.
+
+"Pardon me, my dear fellow; as a banker you are excellent when you have
+any money to spare, but as a moralist you are highly ridiculous."
+
+And, turning on his heel, he quitted the office, leaving Cayrol quite
+abashed. He passed along the corridor switching his cane with suppressed
+rage. Madame Desvarennes had, with one word, dried up the source from
+which he had been drawing most of the money which he had spent during
+the last three months. He had to pay a large sum that evening at the
+club, and he did not care to apply to the money-lenders of Paris.
+
+He went down the stairs wondering how he would get out of this scrape!
+Go to Madame Desvarennes and humble himself as Cayrol advised? Never!
+He regretted, for a moment, the follies which had led him into this
+difficulty. He ought to have been able to live on two hundred
+thousand francs a year! He had squandered money foolishly, and now the
+inexhaustible well from which he had drawn his treasure was closed by an
+invincible will.
+
+He was crossing the gateway, when a well-known voice struck his ear, and
+he turned round. Herzog, smiling in his enigmatical manner, was before
+him. Serge bowed, and wanted to pass on, but the financier put his hand
+on his arm, saying:
+
+"What a hurry you are in, Prince. I suppose your pocketbook is full of
+notes, and you are afraid of being plundered."
+
+And with his finger, Herzog touched the silver mounted pocketbook, the
+corner of which was peeping out of the Prince's pocket. Panine could not
+control a gesture of vexation, which made the financier smile.
+
+"Am I wrong?" asked Herzog. "Can our friend Cayrol have refused your
+request? By-the-bye, did you not quarrel with Madame Desvarennes
+yesterday? Whoever was it told me that? Your mother-in-law spoke of
+cutting off all your credit, and from your downcast look I guess that
+fool Cayrol has obeyed the orders he has received."
+
+Serge, exasperated and stamping with rage, wanted to speak, but it was
+no easy matter interrupting Herzog. Besides, there was something in the
+latter's look which annoyed Serge. His glance seemed to be fathoming the
+depths of Panine's pockets, and the latter instinctively tightened his
+arms across his chest, so that Herzog might not see that his pocketbook
+was empty.
+
+"What are you talking about?" asked Serge, at last, with a constrained
+smile.
+
+"About things which must greatly interest you," said Herzog, familiarly.
+"Come, be sincere. Cayrol has just refused you a sum of money. He's a
+simpleton! How much do you want? Will a hundred thousand francs do just
+now?"
+
+And writing a few words on a check, the financier handed it to Serge,
+adding:
+
+"A man of your position should not be in any difficulty for such a
+paltry sum!"
+
+"But, sir," said Serge, astonished, and pushing away Herzog's hand.
+
+"Accept it, and don't feel indebted to me. It is hardly worth while
+between you and me."
+
+And taking Panine's arm Herzog walked on with him.
+
+"Your carriage is there? all right, mine will follow. I want to talk to
+you. Your troubles cannot last. I will show you the means of extricating
+yourself and that without delay, my dear sir."
+
+And without consulting Panine he seated himself beside him in the
+carriage.
+
+"I told you once, if you remember," continued the financier, "that I
+might prove useful to you. You were haughty, and I did not insist; yet
+you see the day has come. Let me speak frankly with you. It is my usual
+manner, and there is some good in it."
+
+"Speak," answered Serge, rather puzzled.
+
+"You find yourself at this moment, vulgarly speaking, left in the lurch.
+Your wants are many and your resources few."
+
+"At least--" protested Serge.
+
+"Good! There you are refractory," said the financier, laughingly, "and I
+have not finished. The day after your marriage you formed your
+household on a lavish footing; you gave splendid receptions; you bought
+race-horses; in short, you went the pace like a great lord. Undoubtedly
+it costs a lot of money to keep up such an establishment. As you spent
+without counting the cost, you confounded the capital with the interest,
+so that at this moment you are three parts ruined. I don't think you
+would care to change your mode of living, and it is too late in the day
+to cut down expenses and exist on what remains? No. Well, to keep up
+your present style you need at least a million francs every year."
+
+"You calculate like Cocker," remarked Serge, smiling with some
+constraint.
+
+"That is my business," answered Herzog. "There are two ways by which
+you can obtain that million. The first is by making it up with your
+mother-in-law, and consenting, for money, to live under her dominion. I
+know her, she will agree to this."
+
+"But," said Serge, "I refuse to submit."
+
+"In that case you must get out of your difficulties alone."
+
+"And how?" inquired the Prince, with astonishment.
+
+Herzog looked at him seriously.
+
+"By entering on the path which I am ready to open up to you," replied
+Herzog, "and in which I will guide you. By going in for business."
+
+Serge returned Herzog's glance and tried to read his face, but found him
+impenetrable.
+
+"To go into business one needs experience, and I have none."
+
+"Mine will suffice," retorted the financier.
+
+"Or money," continued the Prince, "and I have none, either."
+
+"I don't ask money from you. I offer you some."
+
+"What, then, do I bring into the concern?"
+
+"The prestige of your name, and your relations with Madame Desvarennes."
+
+The Prince answered, haughtily:
+
+"My relations are personal, and I doubt whether they will serve you. My
+mother-in-law is hostile, and will do nothing for me. As to my name, it
+does not belong to me, it belongs to those who bore it nobly before me."
+
+"Your relations will serve me," said Herzog. "I am satisfied. Your
+mother-in-law cannot get out of your being her daughter's husband, and
+for that you are worth your weight in gold. As to your name, it is
+just because it has been nobly borne that it is valuable. Thank your
+ancestors, therefore, and make the best of the only heritage they left
+you. Besides, if you care to examine things closely, your ancestors will
+not have reason to tremble in their graves. What did they do formerly?
+They imposed taxes on their vassals and extorted money from the
+vanquished. We financiers do the same. Our vanquished are the
+speculators; our vassals the shareholders. And what a superiority
+there is about our proceedings! There is no violence. We persuade; we
+fascinate; and the money flows into our coffers. What do I say? They
+beseech us to take it. We reign without contest. We are princes, too
+princes of finance. We have founded an aristocracy as proud and as
+powerful as the old one. Feudality of nobility no longer exists; it has
+given way to that of money."
+
+Serge laughed. He saw what Herzog was driving at.
+
+"Your great barons of finance are sometimes subject to executions," said
+he.
+
+"Were not Chalais, Cinq-Mars, Biron, and Montmorency executed?" asked
+Herzog, with irony.
+
+"That was on a scaffold," replied Panine.
+
+"Well! the speculator's scaffold is the Bourse! But only small dabblers
+in money succumb; the great ones are safe from danger. They are
+supported in their undertakings by such powerful and numerous interests
+that they cannot fail without involving public credit; even
+governments are forced to come to their aid. One of these powerful and
+indestructible enterprises I have dreamed of grafting on to the European
+Credit Company, the Universal Credit Company. Its very name is a
+programme in itself. To stretch over the four quarters of the globe like
+an immense net, and draw into its meshes all financial speculators: such
+is its aim. Nobody will be able to withstand us. I am offering you great
+things, but I dream of still greater. I have ideas. You will see them
+developed, and will profit by them, if you join my fortunes. You are
+ambitious, Prince. I guessed it; but your ambition hitherto has been
+satisfied with small things--luxurious indulgences and triumphs of
+elegance! What are these worth to what I can give you? The sphere in
+which you move is narrow. I will make it immense. You will no longer
+reign over a small social circle, you will rule a world."
+
+Serge, more affected than he cared to show, tried to banter.
+
+"Are you repeating the prologue to Faust?" asked he. "Where is your
+magical compact? Must I sign it?"
+
+"Not at all. Your consent is sufficient. Look into the business, study
+it at your leisure, and measure the results; and then if it suit you,
+you can sign a deed of partnership. Then in a few years you may possess
+a fortune surpassing all that you have dreamed of."
+
+The financier remained silent. Serge was weighing the question. Herzog
+was happy; he had shown himself to all Paris in company with Madame
+Desvarennes's son-in-law. He had already realized one of his projects.
+The carriage was just passing down the Champs Elysees. The weather was
+lovely, and in the distance could be seen the trees of the Tuileries and
+the different monuments of the Place de la Concorde bathed in blue mist.
+Groups of horsemen were cantering along the side avenues. Long files of
+carriages were rolling rapidly by with well-dressed ladies. The capital
+displayed at that hour all the splendor of its luxury. It was Paris in
+all its strength and gayety.
+
+Herzog stretched out his hand, and calling the Prince's attention to the
+sight, said:
+
+"There's your empire!"
+
+Then, looking at him earnestly, he asked:
+
+"Is it agreed?"
+
+Serge hesitated for a moment, and then bowed his head, saying:
+
+"It is agreed."
+
+Herzog pulled the check-string communicating with the coachman and
+alighted.
+
+"Good-by," said he to Panine.
+
+He slipped into his own carriage, which had followed closely behind, and
+drove off.
+
+From that day, even Jeanne had a rival. The fever of speculation had
+seized on Serge; he had placed his little finger within the wheels and
+he must follow--body, name, and soul. The power which this new game
+exercised over him was incredible. It was quite different to the stupid
+games at the club, always the same. On the Bourse, everything was new,
+unexpected, sudden, and formidable. The intensity of the feelings were
+increased a hundredfold, owing to the importance of the sums risked.
+
+It was really a splendid sight to see Herzog manipulating matters,
+maneuvering with a miraculous dexterity millions of francs. And then the
+field for operations was large. Politics, the interests of nations, were
+the mainsprings which impelled the play, and the game assumed diplomatic
+vastness and financial grandeur.
+
+From his private office Herzog issued orders, and whether his ability
+was really extraordinary, or whether fortune exceptionally favored him,
+success was certain. Serge, from the first week, realized considerable
+sums. This brilliant success threw him in a state of great excitement.
+He believed everything that Herzog said to him as if it were gospel. He
+saw the world bending under the yoke which he was about to impose upon
+it. People working and toiling every day were doing so for him alone,
+and like one of those kings who had conquered the world, he pictured all
+the treasures of the earth laid at his feet. From that time he lost
+the sense of right and wrong. He admitted the unlikely, and found the
+impossible quite natural. He was a docile tool in the hands of Herzog.
+
+The rumor of this unforeseen change in Panine's circumstances soon
+reached Madame Desvarennes's ears. The mistress was frightened, and sent
+for Cayrol, begging him to remain a director of the European Credit, in
+order to watch the progress of the new affair. With her practical common
+sense, she foresaw disasters, and even regretted that Serge had not
+confined himself to cards and reckless living.
+
+Cayrol was most uneasy, and made a confidant of his wife, who, deeply
+troubled, told Panine the fears his friends entertained on his account.
+The Prince smiled disdainfully, saying these fears were the effect
+of plebeian timidity. The mistress understood nothing of great
+speculations, and Cayrol was a narrow-minded banker! He knew what he was
+doing. The results of his speculations were mathematical. So far they
+had not disappointed his hopes. The great Universal Credit Company, of
+which he was going to be a director, would bring him in such an immense
+fortune that he would be independent of Madame Desvarennes.
+
+Jeanne, terrified at this blind confidence, tried to persuade him. Serge
+took her in his arms, kissed her, and banished her fears.
+
+Madame Desvarennes had forbidden her people to tell Micheline anything
+of what was going on, as she wished her to remain in perfect ignorance.
+By a word, the mistress, if she could not have prevented the follies
+of which Serge was guilty, could, at least, have spared herself and her
+daughter. It would have only been necessary to reveal his behavior and
+betrayal to Micheline, and to provoke a separation. If the house of
+Desvarennes were no longer security for Panine, his credit would fall.
+Disowned by his mother-in-law, and publicly given up by her, he would
+be of no use to Herzog, and would be promptly thrown over by him. The
+mistress did not wish her daughter to know the heartrending truth. She
+would not willingly cause her to shed tears, and therefore preferred
+risking ruin.
+
+Micheline, too, tried to hide her troubles from her mother. She knew
+too well that Serge would have the worst of it if he got into her black
+books. With the incredible persistence of a loving heart, she hoped to
+win back Serge. Thus a terrible misunderstanding caused these two women
+to remain inactive and silent, when, by united efforts, they might,
+perhaps, have prevented dangers.
+
+The great speculation was already being talked about. Herzog was boldly
+placing his foot on the summit whereon the five or six demigods, who
+ruled the stock market, were firmly placed. The audacious encroachments
+of this newcomer had vexed these formidable potentates, and already they
+had decided secretly his downfall because he would not let them share in
+his profits.
+
+One morning, the Parisians, on awakening, found the walls placarded with
+notices advertising the issue of shares in the Universal Credit Company,
+and announcing the names of the directors, among which appeared that
+of the Prince. Some were members of the Legion d'Honneur; others recent
+members of the Cabinet Council, and Prefets retired into private life. A
+list of names to dazzle the public, but all having a weak point.
+
+This created a great sensation in the business world. Madame
+Desvarennes's son-in-law was on the board. It was a good speculation,
+then? People consulted the mistress, who found herself somewhat in a
+dilemma; either she must disown her son-in-law, or speak well of the
+affair. Still she did not hesitate, for she was loyal and honest above
+all things. She declared the speculation was a poor one, and did all she
+could to prevent any of her friends becoming shareholders.
+
+The issue of shares was disastrous. The great banks remained hostile,
+and capitalists were mistrustful. Herzog landed a few million francs.
+Doorkeepers and cooks brought him their savings. He covered expenses.
+But it was no use advertising and puffing in the newspapers, as a word
+had gone forth which paralyzed the speculation. Ugly rumors were afloat.
+Herzog's German origin was made use of by the bankers, who whispered
+that the aim of the Universal Credit Company was exclusively political.
+It was to establish branch banks in every part of the world to further
+the interests of German industry. Further, at a given moment, Germany
+might have need of a loan in case of war, and the Universal Credit
+Company would be there to supply the necessary aid to the great military
+nation.
+
+Herzog was not a man to be put down without resisting, and he made
+supreme efforts to float his undertaking. He caused a number of unissued
+shares to be sold on 'Change, and had them bought up by his own men,
+thus creating a fictitious interest in the company. In a few days the
+shares rose and were at a premium, simply through the jobbery to which
+Herzog lent himself.
+
+Panine was little disposed to seek for explanations, and, besides,
+had such unbounded faith in his partner that he suspected nothing. He
+remained in perfect tranquillity. He had increased his expenditure, and
+his household was on a royal footing. Micheline's sweetness emboldened
+him; he no longer took the trouble of dissimulating, and treated his
+young wife with perfect indifference.
+
+Jeanne and Serge met every day at the little house in the Avenue
+Maillot. Cayrol was too much engaged with the new anxieties which Herzog
+caused him, to look after his wife, and left her quite free to amuse
+herself. Besides, he had not the least suspicion. Jeanne, like all
+guilty women, overwhelmed him with kind attentions, which the good man
+mistook for proofs of love. The fatal passion was growing daily stronger
+in the young woman's heart, and she would have found it impossible to
+have given up her dishonorable happiness with Panine. She felt herself
+capable of doing anything to preserve her lover.
+
+Jeanne had already said, "Oh! if we were but free!" And they formed
+projects. They would go away to Lake Lugano, and, in a villa hidden
+by trees and shrubs, would enjoy the pleasures of being indissolubly
+united. The woman was more eager than the man in giving way to these
+visions of happiness. She sometimes said, "What hinders us now? Let
+us go." But Serge, prudent and discreet, even in the most affectionate
+moments, led Jeanne to take a more sensible view. What was the use of a
+scandal? Did they not belong to each other?
+
+Then the young woman reproached him for not loving her as much as she
+loved him. She was tired of dissimulating; her husband was an object
+of horror to her, and she had to tell him untruths and submit to his
+caresses which were revolting to her. Serge calmed her with a kiss, and
+bade her wait awhile.
+
+Pierre, rendered anxious on hearing that Serge had joined Herzog in
+his dangerous financial speculations, had left his mines and had just
+arrived. The letters which Micheline addressed to the friend of her
+youth, her enforced confidant in trouble, were calm and resigned.
+Full of pride, she had carefully hidden from Pierre the cause of her
+troubles. He was the last person by whom she would like to be pitied,
+and her letters had represented Serge as repentant and full of good
+feeling. Marechal, for similar reasons, had kept his friend in the
+dark. He feared Pierre's interference, and he wished to spare Madame
+Desvarennes the grief of seeing her adopted son quarreling with her
+son-in-law.
+
+But the placards announcing the establishment of the Universal Credit
+Company made their way into the provinces, and one morning Pierre found
+some stuck on the walls of his establishment. Seeing the name of Panine,
+and not that of Cayrol, Pierre shuddered. The unpleasant ideas which
+he experienced formerly when Herzog was introduced to the Desvarennes
+recurred to his mind. He wrote to the mistress to ask what was going
+on, and not receiving an answer, he started off without hesitation for
+Paris.
+
+He found Madame Desvarennes in a terrible state of excitement. The
+shares had just fallen a hundred and twenty francs. A panic had ensued.
+The affair was considered as absolutely lost, and the shareholders were
+aggravating matters by wanting to sell out at once.
+
+Savinien was just coming away from the mistress's room. He wanted to see
+the downfall of the Prince, whom he had always hated, looking upon him
+as a usurper of his own rights upon the fortune of the Desvarennes.
+He began lamenting to his aunt, when she turned upon him with unusual
+harshness, and he felt bound as he said, laughing, to leave the
+"funereal mansion."
+
+Cayrol, as much interested in the affairs of the Prince as if they were
+his own, went backward and forward between the Rue Saint-Dominique and
+the Rue Taitbout, pale and troubled, but without losing his head. He
+had already saved the European Credit Company by separating it six
+weeks before from the Universal Credit Company, notwithstanding Madame
+Desvarennes's supplications to keep them together, in the hope that the
+one would save the other. But Cayrol, practical, clear, and implacable,
+had refused, for the first time, to obey Madame Desvarennes. He acted
+with the resolution of a captain of a vessel, who throws overboard a
+portion of the cargo to save the ship, the crew, and the rest of the
+merchandise. He did well, and the European Credit was safe. The shares
+had fallen a little, but a favorable reaction was already showing
+itself. The name of Cayrol, and his presence at the head of affairs, had
+reassured the public, and the shareholders gathered round him, passing a
+vote of confidence.
+
+The banker, devoted to his task, next sought to save Panine, who was at
+that very moment robbing him of his honor and happiness in the house of
+the Avenue Maillot.
+
+Pierre, Cayrol, and Madame Desvarennes met in Marechal's private office.
+Pierre declared that it was imperative to take strong measures and
+to speak to the Prince. It was the duty of the mistress to enlighten
+Panine, who was no doubt Herzog's dupe.
+
+Madame Desvarennes shook her head sadly. She feared that Serge was not
+a dupe but an accomplice. And what could she tell him? Let him ruin
+himself! He would not believe her. She knew how he received her advice
+and bore her remonstrances.
+
+An explanation between her and Serge was impossible, and her
+interference would only hurry him into the abyss.
+
+"Well, then, I will speak to him," said Pierre, resolutely.
+
+"No," said Madame Desvarennes, "not you! Only one here can tell him
+efficaciously what he must hear, and that is Cayrol. Let us above all
+things keep guard over our words and our behavior. On no account must
+Micheline suspect anything."
+
+Thus, at the most solemn moments, when fortune and honor, perhaps, were
+compromised, the mother thought of her daughter's welfare and happiness.
+
+Cayrol went up to the Prince's rooms. He had just come in, and was
+opening his letters, while having a cigarette in the smoking-room. A
+door, covered by curtains, led to a back stair which opened into the
+courtyard. Cayrol had gone up that way, feeling sure that by so doing he
+would not meet Micheline.
+
+On seeing Jeanne's husband, Serge rose quickly. He feared that Cayrol
+had discovered everything, and instinctively stepped backward. The
+banker's manner soon undeceived him. He was serious, but not in a rage.
+He had evidently come on business.
+
+"Well, my dear Cayrol," said the Prince, gayly, "what good fortune has
+brought you here?"
+
+"If it is fortune, it is certainly not good fortune," answered the
+banker, gravely. "I wish to have some talk with you, and I shall be
+grateful if you will listen patiently."
+
+"Oh! oh!" said Serge. "How serious you are. You have some heavy payments
+on hand, and want a little help, eh? I will speak to Herzog."
+
+Cayrol looked at the Prince in amazement. So he did not suspect
+anything? Such carelessness and negligence frightened him. The banker
+resolved to proceed clearly, and without beating about the bush; to do
+away with such blind confidence a thunderbolt was necessary.
+
+"I have not come about my business, but yours," returned Cayrol. "The
+Universal Credit Company is on the eve of disaster; there is still time
+for you to withdraw safely and soundly from the sinking wreck. I bring
+you the means."
+
+Serge laughed.
+
+"Thank you, Cayrol; you are very kind, my friend. I know your intentions
+are good, but I don't believe a word you are saying. You have come
+from Madame Desvarennes. You are both agreed that I shall give up the
+Universal Credit, but I will not yield to any pressure. I know what I am
+doing. Be easy."
+
+And quietly lighting another cigarette, he gracefully puffed the
+smoke toward the ceiling. Cayrol did not trouble to argue, but took
+a newspaper from his pocket and handed it to Panine, simply saying,
+"Read!"
+
+It was an article in a reliable financial paper prophesying the
+failure of the Universal Credit Company, and basing its statements on
+irrefutable calculations. Serge took the paper and looked over it. He
+turned pale and crushed it in his hand.
+
+"What infamy!" cried he. "I know our adversaries are enraged. Yes, they
+know that our new company is destined to crush them in the future, and
+they are doing all they can to run us aground. Jealousy! Envy! There is
+no other foundation for these rumors, and they are unworthy a serious
+man's attention."
+
+"There is neither envy nor jealousy. All is true," said Cayrol. "You
+will admit that I am your sincere friend? Well, I swear to you that
+the situation is terrible, and you must resign your directorship of the
+Universal Credit without loss of time. There's not a moment to lose. Sit
+down and write your resignation."
+
+"Do you think I am a child to be led by the nose like that?" asked the
+Prince, in a passion. "If you are sincere, Cayrol, as I wish to believe,
+I also think you are a fool. You don't understand! As to drawing out of
+the company, never! I have a lot of money invested in it."
+
+"Well, lose your money, Madame Desvarennes will pay you back. At least
+you can save your name."
+
+"Ah, I see you are conniving with her!" exclaimed the Prince, loudly.
+"Don't tell me another word, I don't believe you. I shall go straight
+to the office, and I will speak to Herzog. We will take measures to
+prosecute the papers for libel if they dare to publish these untruths."
+
+Cayrol saw that nothing would convince Panine. He hoped that an
+interview with Herzog would enlighten him. He left the matter to chance,
+as reasoning was of no avail, and went down to the mistress.
+
+Serge drove to the Universal Credit Company. It was the first day in the
+new offices. Herzog had furnished them splendidly, thinking that this
+would give the shareholders a high opinion of the undertaking. How could
+they have any doubts when they saw such splendid furniture and large
+offices? How could they refuse to place their money in the hands of
+speculators that could cover their floors with such soft carpets? The
+porters, with their dark blue and red cloth liveries, and buttons
+with the company's monogram on them, answered inquiries with haughty
+condescension. Everything foretold success. It was in the air. You could
+hear the cashier shovelling heaps of gold. The people who had placed the
+Universal Credit Company on such a footing were either very powerful or
+very impudent.
+
+Serge walked in, as he would have done at home, with his hat on, amid a
+number of small shareholders, who had come full of anxiety after reading
+the accounts in the newspapers, and who felt full of confidence after
+seeing the splendor of the place. Panine reached Herzog's office, but
+when about to open the door, loud voices struck his ear. The financier
+was arguing with a director, and Panine listened.
+
+"The speculation is safe and sure," Herzog was saying. "The shares are
+low, I know, because I have ceased to keep them up. I have given orders
+in London, Vienna, and Berlin, and we are buying up all shares that
+are offered in the market. I shall then run the shares up again, and we
+shall realize an enormous sum. It is most simple."
+
+"But it is shady," said the other voice.
+
+"Why? I defend myself as I am attacked. The great banks seek to
+deteriorate my stock. I buy in, and take it out of my adversaries. Is it
+not just and lawful?"
+
+Panine breathed freely and felt reassured. The depreciation was caused
+by Herzog; he had just said so. There was nothing to fear then. It was
+just a trick of Herzog's, and the company would come out brighter than
+ever.
+
+Serge went in.
+
+"Oh! here's Prince Panine," said Herzog. "Ask him what he thinks of the
+matter. I defer to his judgment."
+
+"I don't want to know anything," said Serge. "I have full confidence in
+you, my dear manager, and our business will prosper in your hands, I am
+sure. Besides, I know the manoeuvres of our opponents, and I think every
+financial means justifiable to answer them."
+
+"Ah! What did I say to you a few minutes ago?" cried Herzog, addressing
+his questioner in a tone of triumph. "Let me act and you will see.
+Besides, I don't want to keep you against your will," he added, harshly.
+"You are at liberty to withdraw from us if you like."
+
+The other protested that what he had said was for the best interests of
+all concerned. He did not dream of leaving the company; on the contrary,
+they might rely on him. He appreciated the experience and ability of
+Herzog too well to separate his fortune from his friend's. And, shaking
+hands with the financier, he took his leave.
+
+"Come! What is all this clamor in the newspapers?" asked Serge, when
+he found himself alone with Herzog. "Do you know that the articles
+published are very perfidious?"
+
+"All the more perfidious because they are founded on truth," said the
+financier, coldly.
+
+"What do you mean?" cried Serge, in alarm.
+
+"The truth. Do you think I am to tell you lies as I did to that idiot
+who has just gone out? The Universal Credit has at this moment a screw
+loose. But patience! I have an idea, and in a fortnight the shares will
+have doubled in value. I have a splendid scheme in hand which will kill
+the gas companies. It is a plan for lighting by magnesium. Its effect
+will be startling. I shall publish sensational articles describing the
+invention in the London and Brussels papers. Gas shares will fall very
+low. I shall buy up all I can, and when I am master of the situation,
+I shall announce that the threatened gas companies are buying up the
+invention. Shares will rise again, and I shall realize a goodly sum,
+which will be for the benefit of the Universal Credit."
+
+"But for such a formidable speculation foreign agents will require
+security?"
+
+"I will offer it to them. I have here ten million francs' worth of
+shares in the European Credit belonging to Cayrol. We will give the
+cashier a joint receipt for them. The speculation will last three days.
+It is safe, and when the result is achieved we will replace the shares,
+and take back the receipt."
+
+"But," asked Serge, "is this plan of taking the shares which don't
+belong to us legal?"
+
+"It is a transfer," said Herzog, with simplicity. "Besides, don't forget
+that we have to do with Cayrol, that is to say with a partner."
+
+"Suppose we tell him of it," insisted the Prince.
+
+"No! The deuce! We should have to explain everything to him. He knows
+what's what, and would find the idea too good, and want a share of the
+spoil. No! Sign that, and don't be alarmed. The sheep will be back in
+the fold before the shepherd comes to count them."
+
+A dark presentiment crossed Serge's mind, and he was afraid. At that
+moment, when his fate was being decided, he hesitated to go deeper into
+the rut where he had already been walking too long. He stood silent and
+undecided. Confused thoughts crowded his brain; his temples throbbed,
+and a buzzing noise sounded in his ears. But the thought of giving
+up his liberty, and again subjecting himself to Madame Desvarennes's
+protection was like the lash of a whip, and he blushed for having
+hesitated.
+
+Herzog looked at him, and, smiling in a constrained way, said:
+
+"You, too, may give up the affair if you like. If I share it with you it
+is because you are so closely allied to me. I don't so very much care
+to cut the pear in two. Don't think that I am begging of you to be my
+partner! Do as you like."
+
+Serge caught hold of the paper and, having signed it, handed it to the
+financier.
+
+"All right," said Herzog. "I shall leave to-night and be absent
+three days. Watch the money market. You will see the results of my
+calculations."
+
+And shaking hands with the Prince, Herzog went to the cashier to get the
+scrip and deposit the receipt.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX. SIN GROWS BOLDER
+
+There was a party at Cayrol's. In the drawing-rooms of the mansion in
+the Rue Taitbout everything was resplendent with lights, and there
+was quite a profusion of flowers. Cayrol had thought of postponing
+the party, but was afraid of rousing anxieties, and like an actor who,
+though he has just lost his father, must play the following day, so
+Cayrol gave his party and showed a smiling face, so as to prevent harm
+to his business.
+
+Matters had taken a turn for the worse during the last three days. The
+bold stroke, to carry out which Herzog had gone to London so as to be
+more secret, had been got wind of. The fall of the shares had not
+taken place. Working with considerable sums of money, the loss on
+the difference was as great as the gains would have been. The shares
+belonging to the European Credit Company had defrayed the cost of the
+game. It was a disaster. Cayrol, in his anxiety, had applied for the
+scrip and had only found the receipt given to the cashier. Although
+the transaction was most irregular, Cayrol had not said anything; but,
+utterly cast down, had gone to Madame Desvarennes to tell her of the
+fact.
+
+The Prince was in bed, pretending to be ill. His wife, happily ignorant
+of all that was going on, rejoiced secretly at his indisposition because
+she was allowed to nurse him and have him all to herself. Panine,
+alarmed at the check they had experienced, was expecting Herzog with
+feverish impatience, and to keep out of sight had chosen the privacy of
+his own room.
+
+Still, Cayrol had been allowed to see him, and with great circumspection
+told him that his non-appearance at the same time that Herzog was absent
+was most fatal for the Universal Credit Company. It was absolutely
+necessary that he should be seen in public. He must come to his party,
+and appear with a calm face. Serge promised to come, and had imposed
+on Micheline the heavy task of accompanying him to Jeanne's. It was the
+first time since her return from Nice that she had entered the house of
+her husband's mistress.
+
+The concert was over, and a crowd of guests were coming from the large
+drawing-room to the boudoir and little drawing-room.
+
+"The symphony is over. Ouf!" said Savinien, yawning.
+
+"You don't like music?" asked Marechal, with a laugh.
+
+"Yes, military music. But two hours of Schumann and Mendelssohn at high
+pressure is too much for one man. But I say, Marechal, what do you think
+of Mademoiselle Herzog's being at Cayrol's soiree. It is a little too
+strong."
+
+"How so?"
+
+"Why, the father has bolted, and the daughter is preparing a dance. Each
+has a different way of using their feet."
+
+"Very pretty, Monsieur Desvarennes, but I advise you to keep your
+flashes of wit to yourself," said Marechal, seriously. "That may not
+suit everybody."
+
+"Oh, Marechal, you, too, making a fuss!"
+
+And turning on his heel, he went to the refreshment table.
+
+Prince and Princess Panine were just coming in. Micheline was smiling,
+and Serge was pale, though calm. Cayrol and Jeanne came toward them.
+Everybody turned to look at them. Jeanne, without embarrassment, shook
+hands with her friend. Cayrol bowed respectfully to Micheline.
+
+"Princess," he said, "will you honor me by taking my arm? You are just
+in time, they are going to begin dancing."
+
+"Not myself, though, thank you," replied Micheline, with a sad smile, "I
+am still very weak, but I will look on."
+
+And on Cayrol's arm she entered the large drawing-room. Serge followed
+with Jeanne.
+
+The festivities were at their height. The orchestra was playing a
+waltz, and in a whirl of silk and gauze the young people seemed to be
+thoroughly enjoying themselves.
+
+Suzanne Herzog was sitting alone near a window, in a simple white dress,
+and without a single ornament. Marechal had just approached her, and she
+had welcomed him with a smile.
+
+"Are you not dancing to-night, Mademoiselle?" he asked.
+
+"I am waiting to be invited," she answered, sadly, "and, like sister
+Anne, I see nobody coming. There are ugly reports abroad about my
+father's fortune, and the Argonauts are drawing off."
+
+"Will you give me a dance?" said Marechal. "I don't dance to perfection,
+never having practised much, but with a good will."
+
+"Thank you, Monsieur Marechal, I would rather talk. I am not very
+cheerful to-night, and, believe me, I only came because Madame
+Desvarennes wished it. I would rather have remained at home. Business
+has gone wrong with my father by what I can hear, for I don't know what
+goes on at the office. I feel more inclined to cry than to laugh. Not
+that I regret the loss of money, you know; I don't care for it, but my
+father must be in despair."
+
+Marechal listened silently to Suzanne, not daring to tell her what he
+thought of Herzog, and respected the real ignorance or willing blindness
+of the young girl who did not doubt her father's loyalty.
+
+The Princess, leaning on Cayrol's arm, had just finished promenading
+round the rooms, when she perceived Suzanne and, leaving the banker,
+came and seated herself beside her. Many of the guests looked at each
+other and whispered words which Micheline did not hear, and if she
+had heard would not have understood. "It is heroic!" some said. Others
+answered, "It is the height of impudence."
+
+The Princess was talking with Suzanne and was looking at her husband
+who, leaning against a door, was following Jeanne with his eyes.
+
+At a sign from Cayrol, Marechal left the room. The secretary joined
+Madame Desvarennes, who had come with Pierre and had remained in
+Cayrol's private office. During this party matters of moment were to
+be discussed, and a consultation was about to take place between the
+interested parties. On seeing Marechal enter, Madame only uttered one
+word:
+
+"Cayrol?"
+
+"Here he is," answered the secretary.
+
+Cayrol came in, hurriedly.
+
+"Well," he asked, with great anxiety, "have you any news?"
+
+"Pierre has just come from London," answered the mistress. "What we
+feared is true. Herzog, conjointly with my son-in-law, has made use of
+the ten millions belonging to the European Credit."
+
+"Do you think that Herzog has really bolted?" inquired Marechal.
+
+"No! he is too deep for that," replied Cayrol. "He will return. He knows
+that in compromising the Prince it is as if he had compromised the firm
+of Desvarennes, therefore he is quite easy on the matter."
+
+"Can the one be saved without the other?" asked the mistress.
+
+"It is impossible. Herzog has so firmly bound up his interests with
+those of the Prince that it will be necessary to extricate both or let
+both perish together."
+
+"Well, we must save Herzog into the bargain, then!" said Madame
+Desvarennes, coldly. "But by what means?"
+
+"These," answered Cayrol. "The shares taken away by Herzog, under the
+security of the Prince's signature, were deposited by the shareholders.
+When the Universal Credit removed to its new offices, these shares were
+taken away by mistake. It will suffice to replace the scrip. I will give
+back the receipt to the Prince and all trace of this deplorable affair
+will be wiped out."
+
+"But the numbers of the shares will not be the same," said Madame
+Desvarennes, accustomed to minute regularity in all operations.
+
+"We can explain the change by feigning a sale when they were high, and
+buying them up when low. We will show a profit, and the shareholders
+will not quarrel. Besides, I reserve the right of divulging Herzog's
+fraud without implicating Panine, if the shareholders insist. Trust me,
+I will catch Herzog another time. It is my stupid confidence in that
+man which has been partly the cause of this disaster. I will make your
+business mine and force him to shell out. I shall leave for London
+to-night, by the 1.50 train. Promptness of action in such a case is the
+first step toward success."
+
+"Thank you, Cayrol," said the mistress. "Have my daughter and the Prince
+arrived?"
+
+"Yes, Serge is calm; he has more power over himself than I could have
+believed."
+
+"What does it matter to him what is going on? Is it he who will feel the
+blow? No. He knows that I shall go on working to keep him in idleness
+and maintain him in luxury. I may think myself lucky if he is reclaimed
+by this hard lesson, and does not again begin to rummage in other
+people's safes, for then I should be unable to save him."
+
+The mistress rose and, with flashing eyes, walked up and down the room.
+
+"Oh, the wretch!" she said. "If ever my daughter ceases to come between
+him and me!"
+
+A terrible gesture finished the sentence.
+
+Cayrol, Marechal, and Pierre looked at each other. The same thought
+came to their minds, dark and fearful. In a paroxysm of rage this fond
+mother, this energetic and passionate woman, would be capable of killing
+any one.
+
+"You remember what I told you one day," murmured Marechal, approaching
+Cayrol.
+
+"I would prefer the hatred of ten men to that of such a woman," answered
+Cayrol.
+
+"Cayrol!" continued Madame Desvarennes, after a few moments of
+meditation, "the conduct of the business of which you spoke to us a
+little while ago depends solely on you, does it not?"
+
+"On me alone."
+
+"Do it at once, then, cost me what it may. Has it been noised abroad?"
+
+"No one has the slightest suspicion. I have not mentioned it to a living
+soul," said the banker--"except to my wife," added he with a frankness
+which drew a smile from Pierre. "But my wife and I are one."
+
+"What did she say?" asked Madame Desvarenes, looking straight at Cayrol.
+
+"If I had been the person concerned," he said, "she could not possibly
+have been more affected. She loves you so much, Madame, you and those
+belonging to you. She besought me to do all in my power to get the
+Prince out of this scrape. She had tears in her eyes: And, truly, if
+I did not feel bound to serve you from gratitude I would do it for her
+sake and to give her pleasure. I was touched, I can assure you. Really,
+she has a heart!"
+
+Marechal exchanged a look with Madame Desvarennes, who advanced toward
+the banker, and shook him by the hand, saying:
+
+"Cayrol, you are truly a good man!"
+
+"I know it," said Cayrol, smiling to hide his emotion, "and you may rely
+upon me."
+
+Micheline appeared on the threshold of the room. Through the half-open
+door the dancers could be seen passing to and fro, and the sound of
+music floated in the air.
+
+"What has become of you, mamma? I hear that you have been here for more
+than an hour."
+
+"I was talking on business matters with these gentlemen," answered
+Madame Desvarennes, smoothing from her brow the traces of her cares by
+an effort of will. "But you, dear, how do you feel? Are you not tired?"
+
+"Not more so than usual," replied Micheline, looking round to follow the
+movements of her husband, who was trying to reach Jeanne.
+
+"Why did you come to this party? It was unwise."
+
+"Serge wished me to come, and I did not care to let him come without
+me."
+
+"Eh! dear me!" exclaimed Madame Desvarennes. "Let him do what he likes.
+Men are savages. When you are ill it won't hurt him."
+
+"I am not ill, and I won't be," resumed Micheline, warmly. "We are going
+away now."
+
+She motioned to Serge with her fan. Panine came to her.
+
+"You will take me home, won't you, Serge?"
+
+"Certainly, dear one," answered Serge.
+
+Jeanne, who was listening at a distance, raised her hand to her forehead
+as a sign that she wanted him. A feeling of surprise came over the
+Prince, and he did not understand what she meant. Micheline had seen the
+sign. A deadly pallor spread over her features, and a cold perspiration
+broke out on her forehead. She felt so ill that she could have cried
+out. It was the first time she had seen Serge and Jeanne together
+since the dreadful discovery at Nice. She had avoided witnessing
+their meeting, feeling uncertain of herself, and fearing to lose her
+self-control. But seeing the two lovers before her, devouring each other
+with their looks, and making signs to each other, made her feel most
+terribly jealous and angry.
+
+Serge had decided to obey the imperious signs which Jeanne made to him,
+and turning toward his wife, said:
+
+"I remember now, my dear, that before going home I must call at the
+club. I promised, and cannot put it off. Excuse my not going with you,
+and ask your mother to accompany you."
+
+"Very well," said Micheline, in a trembling voice. "I will ask her. You
+are not going just yet?"
+
+"In a moment."
+
+"I, too, shall leave in a moment."
+
+The young wife did not want to lose one detail of the horrible comedy
+being played under her very eyes. She remained to learn, unawares, the
+reason for which Jeanne kept her husband.
+
+Not thinking that he was watched, Serge had gone across to Jeanne, and
+affecting a smile, inquired:
+
+"What is the matter?"
+
+"Serious news." And she explained that she must speak to her lover that
+evening.
+
+"Where?" Serge asked, with astonishment.
+
+"Here," answered Jeanne.
+
+"But your husband?" the Prince said.
+
+"Is leaving in an hour. Our guests will not remain late. Go to the
+garden, and wait in the pavilion. The door of the back stairs leading to
+my dressing-room will be open. When everybody has gone, come up."
+
+"Take care; we are observed," said Serge, uneasily.
+
+And they began to laugh with affectation and talked aloud about
+frivolous things, as if nothing serious were occupying their thoughts.
+Cayrol had come back again. He went up to Madame Desvarennes, who was
+talking with her daughter, and, full of business, thoughtlessly said:
+
+"I will telegraph you as soon as I reach London."
+
+"Are you going away?" inquired Micheline, a light dawning on her mind.
+
+"Yes," said Cayrol; "I have an important matter to settle."
+
+"And when do you start?" continued Micheline, in such a changed voice
+that her mother was frightened.
+
+"In a moment," answered the banker. "Allow me to leave you. I have
+several orders to give."
+
+And leaving the boudoir, he regained the little drawing-room.
+
+Micheline, with clinched hands and fixed gaze, was saying to herself:
+
+"She will be alone to-night, and has asked him to come to her. He told
+me an untruth about his having to go to the club. He is going to see
+her!"
+
+And passing her hand across her brow, as if to drive away an unpleasant
+thought, the young wife remained silent, dismayed and crushed.
+
+"Micheline, what is the matter with you?" asked Madame Desvarennes,
+seizing her daughter's hand, which was icy cold.
+
+"Nothing," stammered Micheline.
+
+"You are ill, I see. Come, let us go home. Come and kiss Jeanne--"
+
+"I!" cried Micheline, with horror, instinctively recoiling as if
+dreading some impure contact.
+
+Madame Desvarennes became suddenly cold and calm. She foresaw a terrible
+revelation, and observing her daughter narrowly, said:
+
+"Why do you cry out when I speak of your kissing Jeanne? Whatever is the
+matter?"
+
+Micheline grasped her mother's arm, and pointed to Serge and Jeanne, who
+were in the little drawing-room, laughing and talking, surrounded by a
+group of people, yet alone.
+
+"Look at them!" she cried.
+
+"What do you mean?" exclaimed the mother in agony. She read the truth in
+her daughter's eyes.
+
+"You know--" she began.
+
+"That he is her lover," cried Micheline, interrupting her. "Don't you
+see that I am dying through it?" she added, sobbing bitterly and falling
+into her mother's arms.
+
+The mistress carried her as if she had been a child into Cayrol's
+private office, and shut the door. Then, kneeling beside the couch on
+which Micheline was stretched, she gave vent to her grief. She begged
+her daughter to speak to her, and warmed her hands with kisses; then,
+seeing her still cold and motionless, she was frightened, and wanted to
+call for help.
+
+"No; be quiet!" murmured Micheline, recovering. "Let no one know. I
+ought to have held my peace; but I have suffered so much I could not
+help myself.
+
+"My life is blasted, you see. Take me away; save me from this infamy!
+Jeanne, my sister, and Serge. Oh! make me forget it! For pity's sake,
+mamma, you who are so strong, you who have always done what you wished,
+take from my heart all the pain that is there!"
+
+Madame Desvarennes, overcome by such a load of grief, lost command of
+herself, and, quite brokenhearted, began to cry and moan.
+
+"O God! Micheline, my poor child! you were suffering so and did not tell
+me. Oh! I knew you no longer trusted your old mother. And I stupidly did
+not guess it! I said to myself, at least she knows nothing about it, and
+sacrificed everything to keep the knowledge of their wrong-doing from
+you. Don't cry any more, darling, you will break my heart. I, who would
+have given up everything in the world to see you happy! Oh, I have loved
+you too much! How I am punished!"
+
+"It is I who am punished," said Micheline, sobbing, "for not obeying
+you. Ah! children ought always to heed their mother. She divines the
+danger. Is it not too horrible, mamma? I, who have sacrificed everything
+for him, to think that he does not love me, and never will love me!
+What will my life be without confidence, hope, or affection? I am too
+unhappy. It would be better to die!"
+
+"Die! you!" cried her mother, whose eyes, wet with tears, dried in a
+moment, as if by an inward fire. "Die! Come, don't talk such nonsense!
+Because a man treats you with scorn and betrays you? Are men worth dying
+for? No, you shall live, my darling, with your old mother. You shall
+have a deed of separation from your husband."
+
+"And he will be free," exclaimed Micheline, angrily. "He will go on
+loving her! Oh! I cannot bear that thought. Do you know, what I am going
+to tell you seems awful. I love him so much, that I would rather see him
+dead than unfaithful."
+
+Madame Desvarennes was struck, and remained silent. Serge dead! That
+idea had already occurred to her as a dream of deliverance. It came
+upon her peremptorily, violently, irresistibly. She repelled it with an
+effort.
+
+"I can never think of him but as vile and odious," continued Micheline.
+"Every day his sin will seem more dastardly and his hypocrisy more base.
+There, a little while ago, he was smiling; and do you know why? Because
+Cayrol is going away, and during his absence Serge will return here
+tonight."
+
+"Who told you?"
+
+"I read it in his joyful looks. I love him. He cannot hide anything from
+me. A traitor to me, and a traitor toward his friend, that is the man
+whom--I am ashamed to own it--I love!"
+
+"Compose yourself! Someone is coming," said Madame Desvarennes, and at
+the same time the door opened and Jeanne appeared, followed by Marechal,
+who was anxious at their disappearance.
+
+"Is Micheline ill?" inquired Madame Cayrol, coming forward.
+
+"No; it is nothing. Just a little fatigue," said Madame Desvarennes.
+"Marechal, give my daughter your arm, and take her to her carriage. I
+shall be down in a minute."
+
+And holding Jeanne by the hand to prevent her following Micheline, she
+added:
+
+"Stay; I have something to say to you."
+
+Jeanne looked surprised. Madame Desvarennes was silent for a moment. She
+was thinking about Serge coming there that night. She had only to say
+one word to Cayrol to prevent his going away. The life of this wretch
+was entirely in her hands then! But Jeanne! Was she going to ruin her?
+Had she the right thus to destroy one who had struggled and had defended
+herself? Would it be just? Jeanne had been led on against her will. She
+must question her. If the poor girl were suffering, if she repented, she
+must spare her.
+
+Madame Desvarennes, having thus made up her mind, turned toward Jeanne
+who was waiting.
+
+"It is a long time since I have seen you, my dear, and I find you happy
+and smiling. It is the first time since your marriage that you have
+seemed so happy."
+
+Jeanne looked at the mistress without answering. In these words she
+detected irony.
+
+"You have found peace," continued Madame Desvarennes, looking
+steadfastly at Jeanne with her piercing eyes. "You see, my dear, when
+you have a clear conscience--for you have nothing to reproach yourself
+with?"
+
+Jeanne saw in this sentence a question and not an affirmation. She
+answered, boldly:
+
+"Nothing!"
+
+"You know that I love you, and would be most lenient," continued Madame
+Desvarennes, sweetly, "and that you might safely confide in me!"
+
+"I have nothing to fear, having nothing to tell," said Jeanne.
+
+"Nothing?" repeated the mistress, with emphasis.
+
+"Nothing," affirmed Jeanne.
+
+Madame Desvarennes once more looked at her adopted daughter as if she
+would read her very soul. She found her quite calm.
+
+"Very well, then!" said she, hastily walking toward the door.
+
+"Are you going already?" asked Jeanne, offering her brow to Madame
+Desvarennes's lips.
+
+"Yes, good-by!" said the latter, with an icy kiss.
+
+Jeanne, without again turning round, went into the drawing-room. At the
+same moment, Cayrol, in a travelling-coat, entered the office, followed
+by Pierre.
+
+"Here I am, quite ready," said the banker to Madame Desvarennes. "Have
+you any new suggestion to make to me, or anything else to say?"
+
+"Yes," replied Madame Desvarennes, in a stern voice which made Cayrol
+start.
+
+"Then make haste. I have only a moment to spare, and you know the train
+waits for no one."
+
+"You will not go!"
+
+Cayrol, in amazement, answered:
+
+"Do you mean it? Your interests are at stake yonder."
+
+"Your honor is in danger here," cried the mistress, vehemently.
+
+"My honor!" repeated Cayrol, starting back. "Madame, do you know what
+you are saying?"
+
+"Ay!" answered Madame Desvarennes. "And do you remember what I promised
+you? I undertook to warn you, myself, if ever the day came when you
+would be threatened."
+
+"Well?" questioned Cayrol, turning quite livid.
+
+"Well! I keep my promise. If you wish to know who your rival is, come
+home to-night."
+
+Some inaudible words rattled in Cayrol's throat.
+
+"A rival! in my house! Can Jeanne be guilty? Do you know, if it is true
+I will kill them both!"
+
+"Deal with them as your conscience dictates," said Madame Desvarennes.
+"I have acted according to mine."
+
+Pierre, hitherto dumb with horror at the scene of which he had been a
+witness, shook off his stupor, and going up to Madame Desvarennes, said:
+
+"Madame, do you know that what you have just done is frightful!"
+
+"How? That man will be acting within his rights the same as I am. They
+are seeking to take away his wife, and they are killing my daughter, and
+dishonoring me! We are defending ourselves! Woe to those who are guilty
+of the crime!"
+
+Cayrol had fallen, as if thunderstruck, on a chair, with haggard
+eyes; his voice was gone, and he looked the image of despair. Madame
+Desvarennes's words came back to him like the refrain of a hated song.
+To himself he kept repeating, without being able to chase away the one
+haunting thought: "Her lover, to-night, at your house!" He felt as if
+he were going mad. He was afraid he should not have time to wreak his
+vengeance. He made a terrible effort, and, moaning with grief, he arose.
+
+"Take care!" said Pierre. "Here's your wife."
+
+Cayrol eyed Jeanne, who was approaching. Burning tears came to his eyes.
+He murmured:
+
+"She, with a look so pure, and a face so calm! Is it possible?"
+
+He nodded a farewell to Pierre and Madame Desvarennes, who were leaving,
+and recovering himself, advanced to meet Jeanne.
+
+"Are you off?" she inquired. "You know you have no time to lose!"
+
+Cayrol shuddered. She seemed anxious to get rid of him.
+
+"I have still a few minutes to spend with you," he said, with emotion.
+"You see, Jeanne, I am sad at going away alone. It is the first time I
+have left you. In a moment our guests will be gone--I beg of you, come
+with me!"
+
+Jeanne smiled. "But you see, dear, I am in evening dress."
+
+"The night of our marriage I brought you away from Cernay like
+that. Wrap yourself up in your furs, and come! Give me this proof of
+affection. I deserve it. I am not a bad man--and I love you so!"
+
+Jeanne frowned. This pressing vexed her.
+
+"This is childish," she said. "You will return the day after tomorrow,
+and I am tired. Have some pity for me."
+
+"You refuse?" asked Cayrol, becoming gloomy and serious.
+
+Jeanne touched his face slightly with her white hand.
+
+"Come! Don't leave me in a temper! You won't miss me much, you will
+sleep all the way. Good-by!"
+
+Cayrol kissed her; in a choking voice, he said:
+
+"Good-by!"
+
+And he left her.
+
+Jeanne's face brightened, as she stood listening for a moment and heard
+the carriage which contained her husband rolling away. Uttering a sigh
+of relief, she murmured:
+
+"At last!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX. THE CRISIS
+
+Jeanne had just taken off her ball-dress to put on a dressing-gown of
+Oriental cloth richly embroidered with silk flowers. Leaning her elbows
+on the mantelpiece, and breathing heavily, she was waiting. Her maid
+came in, bringing a second lamp. The additional light displayed the rich
+warm hangings of ruby plush embroidered in dull gold. The bed seemed one
+mass of lace.
+
+"Has everybody gone?" asked Jeanne, pretending to yawn.
+
+"Messieurs Le Brede and Du Tremblay, the last guests, are just putting
+on their overcoats," answered the maid. "But Monsieur Pierre Delarue
+has come back, and is asking whether Madame will speak with him for a
+moment."
+
+"Monsieur Delarue?" repeated Jeanne, with astonishment.
+
+"He says he has something important to say to Madame."
+
+"Where is he?" asked Jeanne.
+
+"There, in the gallery. The lights were being put out in the
+drawing-room."
+
+"Well, show him in."
+
+The maid went out. Jeanne, much puzzled, asked herself, what could have
+brought Pierre back? It must certainly be something very important. She
+had always felt somewhat awed in Pierre's presence. At that moment the
+idea of being face to face with the young man was most distressing to
+her.
+
+A curtain was lifted and Pierre appeared. He remained silent and
+confused at the entrance of the room, his courage had deserted him.
+
+"Well," said Jeanne, with assumed stiffness, "whatever is the matter, my
+friend?"
+
+"The matter is, my dear Jeanne," began Pierre, "that--"
+
+But the explanation did not seem so very easy to give, for he stopped
+and could not go on.
+
+"That?" repeated Madame Cayrol.
+
+"I beg your pardon," resumed Pierre. "I am greatly embarrassed. In
+coming here I obeyed a sudden impulse. I did not think of the manner in
+which I should tell you what I have to say, and I see that I shall have
+to run a great risk of offending you."
+
+Jeanne assumed a haughty air.
+
+"Well, but, my dear friend, if what you have to say is so difficult,
+don't say it."
+
+"Impossible!" retorted Pierre. "My silence would cause irreparable
+mischief. In mercy, Jeanne, make my task easier! Meet me half way! You
+have projects for to-night which are known. Danger threatens you. Take
+care!"
+
+Jeanne shuddered. But controlling herself, she answered, laughing
+nervously:
+
+"What rubbish are you talking about? I am at home, surrounded by my
+servants, and I have nothing to fear. I beg of you to believe me."
+
+"You deny it!" exclaimed Pierre. "I expected as much. But you are only
+taking useless trouble. Come, Jeanne, I am the friend of your childhood;
+you have no reason to fear aught from me. I am only trying to be of
+use to you. You must know that, by my coming here, I know all. Jeanne,
+listen to me!"
+
+"Are you mad?" interrupted the young woman, proudly, "or are you taking
+part in some absurd joke?"
+
+"I am in my right mind, unfortunately for you!" said Pierre, roughly,
+seeing that Jeanne refused to believe him. "And there is no joke in the
+matter. Everything is true, serious and terrible! Since you compel me to
+say things which may be unpalatable, they must out. Prince Panine is in
+your house, or he soon will be. Your husband, whom you think far away,
+is within call, perhaps, and will come and take you unawares. Is not
+that a serious matter?"
+
+A frown overspread her face, and in an ungovernable rage she stepped
+forward, determined not to give in, and exclaimed:
+
+"Go away! or I shall call for assistance!"
+
+"Don't call, it would look bad!" resumed Pierre, calmly. "On the
+contrary, let the servants get out of the way, and get the Prince to go
+if he be here, or if he has not yet arrived, prevent his coming in. So
+long as I remain here you will dissimulate your fear and will not take
+any precautions. I will leave you, then. Adieu, Jeanne! Believe that I
+wished to render you a service, and be sure that when I have crossed the
+threshold of this door I shall have forgotten everything that I may have
+said."
+
+Pierre bowed, and, lifting the heavy curtain which hid the door leading
+to the gallery, went out.
+
+He had hardly gone when the opposite door opened, and Serge entered the
+room. The young woman rushed into his arms and whispered into his ear,
+with trembling lips:
+
+"Serge, we are lost!"
+
+"I was there," answered Panine. "I heard all."
+
+"What shall we do?" cried Jeanne, terrified.
+
+"Go away at once. To remain here a moment longer is an imprudence."
+
+"And I, if I remain, what shall I say to Cayrol when he comes?"
+
+"Your husband!" said Serge, bitterly. "He loves you, he will forgive
+you."
+
+"I know; but then we two shall be separated for ever. Is that what you
+desire?"
+
+"And what can I do?" cried Serge, in despair. "Everything around me is
+giving way! Fortune, which has been my one aim in life, is escaping
+from me. The family which I have scorned is forsaking me. The friendship
+which I have betrayed overwhelms me. There is nothing left to me."
+
+"And my love, my devotion?" exclaimed Jeanne, passionately. "Do you
+think that I will leave you? We must go away. I asked you long ago. You
+resisted; the moment has now come. Be easy! Madame Desvarennes will pay
+and save your name. In exchange you will give her back her daughter. You
+don't care about her, because you love me. I am your real wife; she who
+ought to share your life. Well, I take back my rights. I pay for them
+with my honor. I break all ties which could hold me back. I am yours,
+Serge! Our sin and misfortune will bind us more closely than any laws
+could."
+
+"Think, that with me you will have to endure poverty, and, perhaps,
+misery," said the Prince, moved by the young woman's infatuation.
+
+"My love will make you forget everything!"
+
+"You will not feel regret or remorse?"
+
+"Never, so long as you love me."
+
+"Come, then," said the Prince, taking Jeanne in his arms. "And if life
+is too hard--"
+
+"Well," added Jeanne, finishing the sentence with sparkling eyes, "we
+will seek refuge together in death! Come!"
+
+Serge bolted the door, through which Pierre had passed, and which alone
+communicated with the other apartments. Then, taking his mistress by the
+hand, he went with her into the dressing-room. Jeanne threw a dark cloak
+round her shoulders, put a hat on her head, and without taking either
+money, jewels, lace, or, in fact, anything that she had received from
+Cayrol, they went down the little back stairs.
+
+It was very dark. Jeanne did not take a light, as she did not care to
+attract attention, so they had to feel every step of the way as quietly
+as possible, striving not to make the least noise, holding their breath,
+and with beating hearts. When they reached the bottom of the stairs,
+Jeanne stretched out her hand, and sought the handle of the door which
+opened into the courtyard. She turned it, but the door would not open.
+She pushed, but it did not give way. Jeanne uttered a low groan. Serge
+shook it vigorously, but it would not open.
+
+"It has been fastened on the outside," he whispered.
+
+"Fastened?" murmured Jeanne, seized with fear. "Fastened, and by whom?"
+
+Serge did not answer. The idea that Cayrol had done it came to his mind
+at once. The husband lying in wait, had seen him enter, and to prevent
+his escaping from his vengeance had cut off all means of retreating.
+
+Silently, they went upstairs again, into the room through the
+dressing-room. Jeanne took off her bonnet and cloak, and sank into an
+armchair.
+
+"I must get away!" said Serge, with suppressed rage; and he walked
+toward the door of the gallery.
+
+"No! don't open that," cried Jeanne, excitedly.
+
+And with a frightened look, she added:
+
+"What if he were behind the door?"
+
+At the same moment, as if Jeanne's voice had indeed evoked Cayrol, a
+heavy step was heard approaching along the gallery, a hand tried to open
+the bolted door. Serge and Jeanne remained motionless, waiting.
+
+"Jeanne!" called the voice of Cayrol from the outside, sounding
+mournfully in the silence, "Jeanne, open!"
+
+And with his fist he knocked imperatively on the woodwork.
+
+"I know you are there! Open, I say!" he cried, with increasing rage. "If
+you don't open the door, I'll--"
+
+"Go! I beseech you!" whispered Jeanne, in Panine's ear. "Go downstairs
+again, and break open the door. You won't find any one there now."
+
+"Perhaps he has stationed some one there," answered Serge. "Besides, I
+won't leave you here alone exposed to his violence."
+
+"You are not alone. I can hear you talking!" said Cayrol, beside
+himself. "I shall break open this door!"
+
+The husband made a tremendous effort. Under the pressure of his heavy
+weight the lock gave way. With a bound he was in the middle of the room.
+Jeanne threw herself before him; she no longer trembled. Cayrol took
+another step and fixed his glaring eyes on the man whom he sought,
+uttering a fearful oath.
+
+"Serge!" cried he. "I might have guessed it. It is not only money of
+which you are robbing me, you villain!"
+
+Panine turned horribly pale, and advanced toward Cayrol, despite Jeanne,
+who was clinging to him.
+
+"Don't insult me; it is superfluous," said he. "My life belongs to you;
+you can take it. I shall be at your service whenever you please."
+
+Cayrol burst into a fearful laugh.
+
+"Ah! a duel! Come! Am I a gentleman? I am a plebeian! a rustic! a
+cowherd! you know that! I have you now! I am going to smash you!"
+
+He looked round the room as if seeking a weapon, and caught sight of
+the heavy fire-dogs. He caught up one with a cry of triumph, and,
+brandishing it like a club, rushed at Serge.
+
+More rapid than he, Jeanne threw herself before her lover. She stretched
+out her arms, and with a sharp voice, and the look of a she-wolf
+defending her cubs,
+
+"Keep behind me," said she to Serge; "he loves me and will not dare to
+strike!"
+
+Cayrol had stopped. At these words he uttered a loud cry: "wretched
+woman! You first, then!"
+
+Raising his weapon, he was about to strike, when his eyes met Jeanne's.
+The young woman was smiling, happy to die for her lover. Her pale face
+beamed from out her black hair with weird beauty. Cayrol trembled. That
+look which he had loved, would he never see it again? That rosy mouth,
+whose smile he cherished, would it be hushed in death? A thousand
+thoughts of happy days came to his mind. His arm fell. A bitter flood
+rushed from his heart to his eyes; the iron dropped heavily from his
+hand on to the floor, and the poor man, overcome, sobbing, and ashamed
+of his weakness, fell senseless on a couch.
+
+Jeanne did not utter a word. By a sign she showed Serge the door,
+which was open, and with a swollen heart she leaned on the mantelpiece,
+waiting for the unfortunate man, from whom she had received such a deep
+and sad proof of love, to come back to life.
+
+Serge had disappeared.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI. "WHEN ROGUES FALL OUT"
+
+The night seemed long to Madame Desvarennes. Agitated and feverish,
+she listened through the silence, expecting every moment to hear some
+fearful news. In fancy she saw Cayrol entering his wife's room like a
+madman, unawares. She seemed to hear a cry of rage, answered by a sigh
+of terror; then a double shot resounded, the room filled with smoke,
+and, struck down in their guilty love, Serge and Jeanne rolled in death,
+interlaced in each other's arms, like Paolo and Francesca de Rimini,
+those sad lovers of whom Dante tells us.
+
+Hour after hour passed; not a sound disturbed the mansion. The Prince
+had not come in. Madame Desvarennes, unable to lie in bed, arose, and
+now and again, to pass the time, stole on tiptoe to her daughter's room.
+Micheline, thoroughly exhausted with fatigue and emotion, had fallen
+asleep on her pillow, which was wet with tears.
+
+Bending over her, by the light of the lamp, the mistress gazed at
+Micheline's pale face, and a sigh rose to her lips.
+
+"She is still young," she thought; "she may begin life afresh. The
+remembrance of these sad days will be wiped out, and I shall see her
+revive and smile again. That wretch was nearly the death of her."
+
+And the image of Serge and Jeanne stretched beside each other in the
+room full of smoke came before her eyes again. She shook her head to
+chase the importunate vision away, and noiselessly regained her own
+apartment.
+
+The day dawned pale and bleak. Madame Desvarennes opened her window and
+cooled her burning brow in the fresh morning air. The birds were awake,
+and were singing on the trees in the garden.
+
+Little by little, the distant sound of wheels rolling by was heard. The
+city was awakening from its sleep.
+
+Madame Desvarennes rang and asked for Marechal. The secretary appeared
+instantly. He, too, had shared the anxieties and fears of the mistress,
+and had risen early. Madame Desvarennes greeted him with a grateful
+smile. She felt that she was really loved by this good fellow, who
+understood her so thoroughly. She begged him to go to Cayrol's, and gain
+some information, without giving him further details, and she waited,
+walking up and down the room to calm the fever of her mind.
+
+On leaving the house in the Rue Taitbout, Serge felt bewildered, not
+daring to go home, and unable to decide on any plan; yet feeling that
+it was necessary to fix on something without delay, he reached the club.
+The walk did him good, and restored his physical equilibrium. He was
+thankful to be alive after such a narrow escape. He went upstairs with
+a comparatively light step, and tossed his overcoat to a very sleepy
+footman who had risen to receive him. He went into the card-room.
+Baccarat was just finishing. It was three o'clock in the morning. The
+appearance of the Prince lent the game a little fresh animation. Serge
+plunged into it as if it were a battle. Luck was on his side. In a
+short time he cleared the bank: a thousand louis. One by one the players
+retired. Panine, left alone, threw himself on a couch and slept for a
+few hours, but it was not a refreshing sleep. On the contrary, it made
+him feel more tired.
+
+The day servants disturbed him when they came in to sweep the rooms and
+open the windows. He went into the lavatory, and there bathed his face.
+When his ablutions were over he wrote a note to Jeanne, saying that
+he had reflected, and could not possibly let her go away with him. He
+implored her to do all in her power to forget him. He gave this letter
+to one of the messengers, and told him to give it into the hands of
+Madame Cayrol's maid, and to none other.
+
+The care of a woman and the worry of another household seemed unbearable
+to him. Besides, what could he do with Jeanne? The presence of his
+mistress would prevent his being able to go back to Micheline. And now
+he felt that his only hope of safety was in Micheline's love for him.
+
+But first of all he must go and see if Herzog had returned, and
+ascertain the real facts of the position in regard to the Universal
+Credit Company.
+
+Herzog occupied a little house on the Boulevard Haussmann, which he had
+hired furnished from some Americans. The loud luxury of the Yankees had
+not frightened him. On the contrary, he held that the gay colors of the
+furniture and the glitter of the gilded cornices were bound to have a
+fascination for prospective shareholders. Suzanne had reserved a little
+corner for herself, modestly hung with muslin and furnished with simple
+taste, which was a great contrast to the loud appearance of the other
+part of the house.
+
+On arriving, Serge found a stableman washing a victoria. Herzog
+had returned. The Prince quietly went up the steps, and had himself
+announced.
+
+The financier was sitting in his study by the window, looking through
+the newspapers. When Serge entered he rose. The two men stood facing
+each other for a moment. The Prince was the first to speak.
+
+"How is it that you have kept me without news during your absence?"
+asked he, harshly.
+
+"Because," replied Herzog, calmly, "the only news I had was not good
+news."
+
+"At least I should have known it."
+
+"Would the result of the operation have been different?"
+
+"You have led me like a child in this affair," Serge continued, becoming
+animated. "I did not know where I was going. You made me promises, how
+have you kept them?"
+
+"As I was able," quietly answered Herzog. "Play has its chances. One
+seeks Austerlitz and finds Waterloo."
+
+"But," cried the Prince, angrily, "the shares which you sold ought not
+to have gone out of your hands."
+
+"You believed that?" retorted the financier, ironically. "If they ought
+not to have gone out of my hands it was hardly worth while putting them
+into them."
+
+"In short," said Panine, eager to find some responsible party on whom
+he could pour out all the bitterness of his misfortune, "you took a mean
+advantage of me."
+
+"Good! I expected you to say that!" returned Herzog, smiling. "If the
+business had succeeded, you would have accepted your share of the spoil
+without any scruples, and would have felt ready to crown me. It has
+failed; you are trying to get out of the responsibility, and are on the
+point of treating me as if I were a swindler. Still, the affair would
+not have been more honest in the first instance than in the second, but
+success embellishes everything."
+
+Serge looked hard at Herzog.
+
+"What is there to prove," replied he, "that this speculation, which
+brings ruin and loss to me, does not enrich you?"
+
+"Ungrateful fellow!" observed the financier, ironically, "you suspect
+me!"
+
+"Of having robbed me!" cried Serge, in a rage. "Why not?"
+
+Herzog, for a moment, lost his temper and turned red in the face. He
+seized Panine violently by the arm, and said:
+
+"Gently, Prince; whatever insults you heap upon me must be shared by
+you. You are my partner."
+
+"Scoundrel!" yelled Panine, exasperated at being held by Herzog.
+
+"Personalities," said the financier, in a jesting tone. "Then I take my
+leave!"
+
+And loosing his hold of the Prince, he went toward the door.
+
+Serge sprang after him, exclaiming:
+
+"You shall not leave this room until you have given me the means of
+rectifying this disaster."
+
+"Then let us talk sensibly, as boon companions," said Herzog. "I know
+of a marvellous move by which we can get out of the difficulty. Let
+us boldly call a general meeting. I will explain the thing, and amaze
+everybody. We shall get a vote of confidence for the past, with funds
+for the future. We shall be as white as snow, and the game is played.
+Are you in with me?"
+
+"Enough," replied the Prince, intensely disgusted. "It does not suit me
+to do a yet more shameful thing in order to get out of this trouble. It
+is no use arguing further; we are lost."
+
+"Only the weak allow themselves to be lost!" exclaimed the financier.
+"The strong defend themselves. You may give in if you like; I won't.
+Three times have I been ruined and three times have I risen again. My
+head is good! I am down now. I shall rise again, and when I am well off,
+and have a few millions to spare, I will settle old debts. Everybody
+will be astonished because they won't expect it, and I shall be more
+thought of than if I had paid up at the time."
+
+"And if you are not allowed to go free?" asked Serge. "What if they
+arrest you?"
+
+"I shall be in Aix-la-Chapelle to-night," said Herzog. "From there I
+shall treat with the shareholders of the Universal Credit. People judge
+things better at a distance. Are you coming with me?"
+
+"No," replied Serge, in a low voice.
+
+"You are wrong. Fortune is capricious, and in six months we may be
+richer than we ever have been. But as you have decided, let me give you
+a piece of advice which will be worth the money you have lost. Confess
+all to your wife; she can get you out of this difficulty."
+
+The financier held out a hand to Serge which he did not take.
+
+"Ah! pride!" murmured Herzog. "After all it is your right--It is you who
+pay!"
+
+Without answering a word the Prince went out.
+
+At that same hour, Madame Desvarennes, tired by long waiting, was pacing
+up and down her little drawing-room. A door opened and Marechal, the
+long-looked for messenger, appeared. He had been to Cayrol's, but could
+not see him. The banker, who had shut himself up in his private office
+where he had worked all night, had given orders that no one should
+interrupt him. And as Madame Desvarennes seemed to have a question on
+her lips which she dared not utter, Marechal added that nothing unusual
+seemed to have happened at the house.
+
+But as the mistress was thanking her secretary, the great gate swung on
+its hinges, and a carriage rolled into the courtyard. Marechal flew to
+the window, and uttered one word,
+
+"Cayrol!"
+
+Madame Desvarennes motioned to him to leave her, and the banker appeared
+on the threshold.
+
+At a glance the mistress saw the ravages which the terrible night he
+had passed through had caused. Yesterday, the banker was rosy, firm, and
+upright as an oak, now he was bent, and withered like an old man. His
+hair had become gray about the temples, as if scorched by his burning
+thoughts. He was only the shadow of himself.
+
+Madame Desvarennes advanced toward him, and in one word asked a world of
+questions.
+
+"Well?" she said.
+
+Cayrol, gloomy and fierce, raised his eyes to the mistress, and
+answered:
+
+"Nothing!"
+
+"Did he not come?"
+
+"Yes, he came. But I had not the necessary energy to kill him. I thought
+it was an easier matter to become a murderer. And you thought so too,
+eh?"
+
+"Cayrol!" cried Madame Desvarennes, shuddering, and troubled to find
+that she had been so easily understood by him whom she had armed on her
+behalf.
+
+"The opportunity was a rare one, though," continued Cayrol, getting
+excited. "Fancy; I found them together under my own roof. The law
+allowed me, if not the actual right to kill them, at least an excuse if
+I did so. Well, at the decisive moment, when I ought to have struck the
+blow, my heart failed me. He lives, and Jeanne loves him."
+
+There was a pause.
+
+"What are you going to do?"
+
+"Get rid of him in another way," answered Cayrol. "I had only two ways
+of killing him. One was to catch him in my own house, the other to call
+him out. My will failed me in the one case; my want of skill would fail
+me in the other. I will not fight Serge. Not because I fear death, for
+my life is blighted, and I don't value it; but if I were dead, Jeanne
+would belong to him, and I could not bear the thought of that even in
+death. I must separate them forever."
+
+"And how?"
+
+"By forcing him to disappear."
+
+"And if he refuse?"
+
+Cayrol shook his head menacingly, and exclaimed:
+
+"I defy him! If he resist, I will bring him before the assizes!"
+
+"You?" said Madame Desvarennes, going nearer to Cayrol.
+
+"Yes, I!" answered the banker, with energy.
+
+"Wretched man! And my daughter?" cried the mistress. "Think well what
+you are saying! You would disgrace me and mine."
+
+"Am I not dishonored myself?" asked Cayrol. "Your son-in-law is a
+robber, who has defiled my home and robbed my safe."
+
+"An honest man does not seek to revenge himself after the manner you
+suggest," said the mistress, gravely.
+
+"An honest man defends himself as he can. I am not a knight. I am only
+a financier. Money is my weapon. The Prince has stolen from me. I will
+have him sentenced as a thief."
+
+Madame Desvarennes frowned.
+
+"Make out your account. I will pay it."
+
+"Will you also pay me for my lost happiness?" cried the banker,
+exasperated. "Should I not rather have chosen to be ruined than be
+betrayed as I am? You can never repair the wrong he has done me. And
+then I am suffering so, I must have my revenge!"
+
+"Ah! fool that you are," replied Madame Desvarennes. "The guilty will
+not feel your blows, but the innocent. When my daughter and I are in
+despair will you be less unhappy! Oh! Cayrol, take heed that you lose
+not in dignity what you gain in revenge. The less one is respected
+by others the more one must respect one's self. Contempt and silence
+elevate the victim, while rage and hatred make him descend to the level
+of those who have outraged him."
+
+"Let people judge me as they please. I care only for myself! I am a
+vulgar soul, and have a low mind--anything you like. But the idea that
+that woman belongs to another drives me mad. I ought to hate her, but,
+notwithstanding everything, I cannot live without her. If she will come
+back to me I will forgive her. It is ignoble! I feel it, but it is too
+strong for me. I adore her!"
+
+Before that blind love Madame Desvarennes shuddered. She thought of
+Micheline who loved Serge as Cayrol loved Jeanne.
+
+"Suppose she chooses to go away with Serge," said the mistress to
+herself. In a moment she saw the house abandoned, Micheline and Serge in
+foreign lands, and she alone in the midst of her overthrown happiness,
+dying of sadness and regrets. She made a last effort to move Cayrol.
+
+"Come, must I appeal in vain? Can you forget that I was a sure and
+devoted friend to you, and that you owe your fortune to me? You are a
+good man and will not forget the past. You have been outraged and have
+the right of seeking revenge, but think that in carrying it out you will
+hurt two women who have never done you any harm. Be generous! Be just!
+Spare us!"
+
+Cayrol remained silent; his face did not relax. After a moment he said:
+
+"You see how low I have fallen, by not yielding at once to your
+supplications! Friendship, gratitude, generosity, all the good feelings
+I had, have been consumed by this execrable love. There is nothing left
+but love for her. For her, I forget everything. I degrade and debase
+myself. And what is worse than all, is that I know all this and yet I
+cannot help myself."
+
+"Miserable man!" murmured the mistress.
+
+"Oh! most miserable," sobbed Cayrol, falling into an armchair.
+
+Madame Desvarennes approached him, and quietly placed her hand on his
+shoulder.
+
+"Cayrol, you are weeping? Then, forgive."
+
+The banker arose and, with lowering brow, said:
+
+"No! my resolution is irrevocable. I wish to place a world between
+Jeanne and Serge. If he has not gone away by tonight my complaint will
+be lodged in the courts of justice."
+
+Madame Desvarennes no longer persisted. She saw that the husband's heart
+was permanently closed.
+
+"It is well. I thank you for having warned me. You might have taken
+action without doing so. Good-by, Cayrol. I leave your conscience to
+judge between you and me."
+
+The banker bowed, and murmured:
+
+"Good-by!"
+
+And with a heavy step, almost tottering, he went out.
+
+The sun had risen, and lit up the trees in the garden. Nature seemed to
+be making holiday. The flowers perfumed the air, and in the deep blue
+sky swallows were flying to and fro. This earthly joy exasperated Madame
+Desvarennes. She would have liked the world to be in mourning. She
+closed the window hastily, and remained lost in her own reflections.
+
+So everything was over! The great prosperity, the honor of the house,
+everything was foundering in a moment. Even her daughter might escape
+from her, and follow the infamous husband whom she adored in spite of
+his faults--perhaps because of his very faults--and might drag on a
+weary existence in a strange land, which would terminate in death.
+
+For that sweet and delicate child could not live without material
+comforts and mental ease, and her husband was doomed to go on from bad
+to worse, and would drag her down with him! The mistress pictured her
+daughter, that child whom she had brought up with the tenderest care,
+dying on a pallet, and the husband, odious to the last, refusing her
+admission to the room where Micheline was in agony.
+
+A fearful feeling of anger overcame her. Her motherly love gained the
+mastery, and in the silence of the room she roared out these words:
+
+"That shall not be!"
+
+The opening of the door recalled her to her senses, and she rose. It was
+Marechal, greatly agitated. After Cayrol's arrival, not knowing what
+to do, he had gone to the Universal Credit Company, and there, to
+his astonishment, had found the offices closed. He had heard from the
+porter, one of those superb personages dressed in blue and red cloth,
+who were so important in the eyes of the shareholders, that the evening
+before, owing to the complaint of a director, the police had entered the
+offices, and taken the books away, and that the official seal had been
+placed on the doors. Marechal, much alarmed, had hastened back to Madame
+Desvarennes to apprise her of the fact. It was evidently necessary to
+take immediate steps to meet this new complication. Was this indeed the
+beginning of legal proceedings? And if so how would the Prince come out
+of it?
+
+Madame Desvarennes listened to Marechal, without uttering a word. Events
+were hurrying on even quicker than she had dreaded. The fears of the
+interested shareholders outran even the hatred of Cayrol. What would the
+judges call Herzog's underhand dealings? Would it be embezzlement? Or
+forgery? Would they come and arrest the Prince at her house? The house
+of Desvarennes, which had never received a visit from a sheriff's
+officer, was it to be disgraced now by the presence of the police?
+
+The mistress, in that fatal hour, became herself again. The
+strong-minded woman of old reappeared. Marechal was more alarmed at this
+sudden vigor than he had been at her late depression. When he saw Madame
+Desvarennes going toward the door, he made an effort to detain her.
+
+"Where are you going, Madame?" he inquired, with anxiety.
+
+The mistress gave him a look that terrified him, and answered:
+
+"I am going to square accounts with the Prince."
+
+And, passing through the door leading to the little staircase, Madame
+Desvarennes went up to her son-in-law's rooms.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII. THE MOTHER'S REVENGE
+
+On leaving Herzog, Serge had turned his steps toward the Rue
+Saint-Dominique. He had delayed the moment of going home as long as
+possible, but the streets were beginning to be crowded. He might meet
+some people of his acquaintance. He resolved to face what ever reception
+was awaiting him on the way, he was planning what course he should adopt
+to bring about a reconciliation with his redoubtable mother-in-law. He
+was no longer proud, but felt quite broken down. Only Madame Desvarennes
+could put him on his feet again; and, as cowardly in trouble as he had
+been insolent in prosperity, he accepted beforehand all that she
+might impose upon him; all, provided that she would cover him with her
+protection.
+
+He was frightened, not knowing how deep Herzog had led him in the mire.
+His moral sense had disappeared, but he had a vague instinct of the
+danger he had incurred. The financier's last words came to his mind:
+"Confess all to your wife; she can get you out of this difficulty!"
+He understood the meaning of them, and resolved to follow the advice.
+Micheline loved him. In appealing to her heart, deeply wounded as it
+was, he would have in her an ally, and he had long known that Madame
+Desvarennes could not oppose her daughter in anything.
+
+He entered the house through the back garden gate, and regained his
+room without making the slightest noise. He dreaded meeting Madame
+Desvarennes before seeing Micheline. First he changed his attire; he
+had walked about Paris in evening clothes. Looking in the glass he was
+surprised at the alteration in his features. Was his beauty going too?
+What would become of him if he failed to please. And, like an actor
+who is about to play an important part, he paid great attention to the
+making up of his face. He wished once more to captivate his wife, as his
+safety depended on the impression he was about to make on her. At last,
+satisfied with himself, he tried to look smiling, and went to his wife's
+room.
+
+Micheline was up.
+
+At the sight of Serge she could not suppress an exclamation of surprise.
+It was a long time since he had discontinued these familiar visits. The
+presence of her beloved one in that room, which had seemed so empty when
+he was not there, made her feel happy, and she went to him with a smile,
+holding out her hand. Serge drew her gently toward him and kissed her
+hair.
+
+"Up, already, dear child," said he, affectionately.
+
+"I have scarcely slept," answered Micheline. "I was so anxious. I sat up
+for you part of the night. I had left you without saying good-night. It
+was the first time it had occurred, and I wanted to beg your pardon. But
+you came in very late."
+
+"Micheline, it is I who am ungrateful," interrupted Panine, making
+the young wife sit down beside him. "It is I who must ask you to be
+indulgent."
+
+"Serge! I beg of you!" said the young wife, taking both his hands. "All
+is forgotten. I would not reproach you, I love you so much!"
+
+Micheline's face beamed with joy, and tears filled her eyes.
+
+"You are weeping," said Panine. "Ah! I feel the weight of my wrongs
+toward you. I see how deserving you are of respect and affection. I
+feel unworthy, and would kneel before you to say how I regret all the
+anxieties I have caused you, and that my only desire in the future will
+be to make you forget them."
+
+"Oh! speak on! speak on!" cried Micheline, with delight. "What happiness
+to hear you say such sweet words! Open your heart to me! You know I
+would die to please you. If you have any anxieties or annoyances
+confide in me. I can relieve them. Who could resist me when you are in
+question?"
+
+"I have none, Micheline," answered Serge, with the constrained manner of
+a man who is feigning. "Nothing but the regret of not having lived more
+for you."
+
+"Is the future not in store for us?" said the young wife, looking
+lovingly at him.
+
+The Prince shook his head, saying:
+
+"Who can answer for the future?"
+
+Micheline came closer to her husband, not quite understanding what
+Serge meant, but her mind was on the alert, and in an alarmed tone, she
+resumed:
+
+"What strange words you are uttering? Are we not both young? And, if you
+like, is there not much happiness in store for us?"
+
+And she clung to him. Serge turned away.
+
+"Oh, stay," she murmured, again putting her arms round him. "You are so
+truly mine at this moment!"
+
+Panine saw that the opportunity for confessing all had come. He was able
+to bring tears to his eyes, and went toward the window as if to hide his
+emotion. Micheline followed him, and, in an eager tone, continued:
+
+"Ah! I knew you were hiding something. You are unhappy or in pain;
+threatened perhaps? Ah! if you love me, tell me the truth!"
+
+"Well, yes! It is true, I am threatened. I am suffering and unhappy! But
+don't expect a confession from me. I should blush to make it. But, thank
+Heaven, if I cannot extricate myself from the difficulty in which I am
+placed through my own folly and imprudence--there is yet another way out
+of it."
+
+"Serge! you would kill yourself!" cried Micheline, terrified at the
+gesture Panine had made. "What would become of me then? But what is
+there that is so hard to explain? And to whom should it be said?"
+
+"To your mother," answered Serge, bowing his head.
+
+"To my mother? Very well, I will go to her. Oh! don't fear anything. I
+can defend you, and to strike you she will first have to attack me."
+
+Serge put his arms round Micheline, and with a kiss, the hypocrite
+inspired her whom he entrusted with his safety with indomitable courage.
+
+"Wait for me here," added the young wife, and passing through the little
+drawing-room she reached the smoking-room.
+
+She halted there a moment, out of breath and almost choked with emotion.
+The long expected day had arrived. Serge was coming back to her.
+She went on, and as she reached the door of the stair leading to her
+mother's rooms, she heard a light tap from without.
+
+Greatly astonished, she opened the door, and suddenly drew back,
+uttering an exclamation. A woman, thickly veiled, stood before her.
+
+At the sight of Micheline the stranger seemed inclined to turn and
+fly. But overcome with jealousy, the young wife seized her by the arm,
+dragged off her veil, and recognizing her, exclaimed:
+
+"Jeanne!"
+
+Madame Cayrol approached Micheline, and beseechingly stretched out her
+hands:
+
+"Micheline! don't think--I come--"
+
+"Hold your tongue!" cried Micheline. "Don't tell me any lies! I know
+all! You are my husband's mistress!"
+
+Crushed by such a stroke, Jeanne hid her face in her hands and moaned:
+
+"O God!"
+
+"You must really be bold," continued Micheline, in a furious tone, "to
+seek him here, in my house, almost in my arms!"
+
+Jeanne drew herself up, blushing with shame and grief.
+
+"Ah! don't think," she said, "that love brings me here."
+
+"What is it then?" asked Micheline, contemptuously.
+
+"The knowledge of inevitable and pressing danger which threatens Serge."
+
+"A danger! Of what kind?"
+
+"Compromised by Herzog, he is at the mercy of my husband, who has sworn
+to ruin him."
+
+"Your husband!"
+
+"Yes, he is his rival. If you could ruin me, would you not do it?" said
+Jeanne.
+
+"You!" retorted Micheline, passionately. "Do you think I am going to
+worry about you? Serge is my first thought. You say you came to warn
+him. What must be done?"
+
+"Without a moment's delay he must go away!"
+
+A strange suspicion crossed Micheline's mind. She approached Jeanne, and
+looking earnestly at her, said:
+
+"He must go away without delay, eh? And it is you, braving everything,
+without a thought of the trouble you leave behind you, who come to warn
+him? Ah! you mean to go with him?"
+
+Jeanne hesitated a moment. Then, boldly and impudently, defying and
+almost threatening the legitimate wife:
+
+"Well, yes, I wish to! Enough of dissimulation! I love him!" she
+exclaimed.
+
+Micheline, transfigured by passion, strong, and ready for a struggle,
+threw herself in Jeanne's way, with arms outstretched, as if to prevent
+her going to Serge.
+
+"Well!" she said; "try to take him from me!"
+
+"Take him from you!" answered Jeanne, laughing like a mad woman. "To
+whom does he most belong? To the woman who was as ignorant of his love
+as she was of his danger; who could do nothing toward his happiness, and
+can do nothing for his safety? Or to the mistress who has sacrificed her
+honor to please him and risks her safety to save him?"
+
+"Ah! wretch!" cried Micheline, "to invoke your infamy as a right!"
+
+"Which of us has taken him from the other?" continued Jeanne, forgetting
+respect, modesty, everything. "Do you know that he loved me before he
+married you? Do you know that he abandoned me for you--for your money, I
+should say? Now, do you wish to weigh what I have suffered with what you
+suffer? Shall we make out a balance-sheet of our tears? Then, you will
+be able to tell which of us he has loved more, and to whom he really
+belongs."
+
+Micheline had listened to this furious address almost in a state of
+stupor, and replied, vehemently:
+
+"What matter who triumphs if his ruin is certain. Selfish creatures that
+we are, instead of disputing about his love, let us unite in saving
+him! You say he must go away! But flight is surely an admission of
+guilt--humiliation and obscurity in a strange land. And that is what you
+advise, because you hope to share that miserable existence with him.
+You are urging him on to dishonor. His fate is in the hands of a man
+who adores you, who would sacrifice everything for you, as I would for
+Serge, and yet you have not thrown yourself at his feet! You have not
+offered your life as the price of your lover's! And you say that you
+love him!"
+
+"Ah!" stammered Jeanne, distracted. "You wish me to save him for you!"
+
+"Is that the cry of your heart?" said Micheline, with crushing disdain.
+"Well, see what I am ready to do. If, to remove your jealous fears, it
+is necessary to sacrifice myself, I swear to you that if Serge be saved,
+he shall be perfectly free, and I will never see him again!"
+
+Micheline, chaste and calm, with hands raised to Heaven, seemed to grow
+taller and nobler. Jeanne, trembling and overpowered, looked at her
+rival with a painful effort, and murmured, softly:
+
+"Would you do that?"
+
+"I would do more!" said the lawful wife, bending before the mistress. "I
+ought to hate you, and I kneel at your feet and beseech you to listen
+to me. Do what I ask you and I will forgive you and bless you. Do not
+hesitate! Follow me! Let us throw ourselves at the feet of him whom you
+have outraged. His generosity cannot be less than ours, and to us,
+who sacrifice our love, he will not be able to refuse to sacrifice his
+vengeance."
+
+This greatness and goodness awaked feelings in Jeanne's heart which she
+thought dead. She was silent for a moment and then her breast heaved
+with convulsive sobs, and she fell helpless into the arms which
+Micheline, full of pity, held out to her.
+
+"Forgive me," moaned the unhappy woman. "I am conquered. Your rights are
+sacred, and you have just made them still more so. Keep Serge: with you
+he will once more become honest and happy, because, if your love is not
+greater than mine, it is nobler and purer."
+
+The two women went hand in hand to try to save the man whom they both
+adored.
+
+All this time Serge remained in the little drawing-room enjoying the
+hope of returning peace. It was sweet to him, after the troubles he had
+gone through. He had not the slightest suspicion of the scene in the
+adjoining room between Jeanne and Micheline. The fond heroism of his
+wife and the self-denial of his mistress were unknown to him.
+
+Time was passing. At least an hour had sped since Micheline left him to
+go to her mother, and Serge was beginning to think that the interview
+was very long, when a light step made him tremble. It came from the
+gallery. He thought it was Micheline, and opening the door, he went to
+meet her.
+
+He drew back disappointed, vexed, and anxious, when he found it was
+Pierre. The two men had never met alone since that terrible night at
+Nice. Panine assumed a bold demeanor, and returned Pierre's firm look.
+Steadying his voice, he said:
+
+"Ah! is it you?"
+
+"Were you not expecting me?" answered Pierre whose harsh voice thrilled
+Serge.
+
+The Prince opened his mouth to speak, but Pierre, did not give him time.
+In stern and provoking accents, he continued:
+
+"I made you a promise once; have you forgotten it? I have a good memory.
+You are a villain, and I come to chastise you!"
+
+"Pierre!" exclaimed the Prince, starting fiercely.
+
+But he suddenly calmed himself, and added:
+
+"Leave me! I will not listen to you!"
+
+"You will have to, though! You are a source of trouble and shame to
+the family to which you have allied yourself, and as you have not the
+courage to kill yourself, I have come to help you. You must leave Paris
+to-night, or you will be arrested. We shall go together to Brussels and
+there we shall fight. If chance favors you, you will be at liberty to
+continue your infamies, but at any rate I shall have done my best to rid
+two unfortunate women of your presence."
+
+"You are mad!" said Serge, sneeringly.
+
+"Don't think so! And know that I am ready for any emergency. Come; must
+I strike you, to give you courage?" growled Pierre, ready to suit the
+action to the word.
+
+"Ah! take care!" snarled Serge, with an evil look.
+
+And opening a drawer which was close to him, he took out a revolver.
+
+"Thief first, then murderer!" said Pierre, with a terrible laugh. "Come,
+let's see you do it!"
+
+And he was going toward the Prince when the door opened, and Madame
+Desvarennes came forward. Placing her hand on Pierre's shoulder, she
+said, in that commanding tone which few could resist:
+
+"Go; wait for me in my room. I wish it!"
+
+Pierre bowed, and, without answering, went out.
+
+Serge had placed the pistol on the table and was waiting.
+
+"We have to talk over several matters," said Madame Desvarennes,
+gravely, "and you know it."
+
+"Yes, Madame," answered Panine, sadly, "and, believe me, no one judges
+my conduct more severely than I do."
+
+The mistress could not help looking surprised.
+
+"Ah!" she said, with irony, "I did not expect to find you in such a
+mood. You have not accustomed me to such humility and sweetness. You
+must be afraid, to have arrived at that stage!"
+
+The Prince appeared not to have understood the implied insult in
+his mother-in-law's words. One thing struck him, which was that she
+evidently did not expect to find him repentant and humbled.
+
+"Micheline must have told you," he began.
+
+"I have not seen my daughter," interrupted the mistress, sharply, as if
+to make him understand that he must depend solely upon himself.
+
+Ignorant that Micheline had met Jeanne on her way to her mother, and
+had gone to Cayrol, Serge thought he was abandoned by his only powerful
+ally. He saw that he was lost and that his feigned resignation was
+useless. Unable to control himself any longer, his face darkened with
+rage.
+
+"She, too, against me! Well! I will defend myself alone!"
+
+Turning toward Madame Desvarennes, he added:
+
+"To begin with, what do you want with me?"
+
+"I wish to ask you a question. We business folk when we fail, and cannot
+pay our way, throw blood on the blot and it disappears. You members of
+the nobility, when you are disgraced, how do you manage?"
+
+"If I am not mistaken, Madame," answered the Prince, in a light tone,
+"you do me the favor of asking what my intentions are for the future?
+I will answer you with precision. I purpose leaving to-night for
+Aix-la-Chapelle, where I shall join my friend Herzog. We shall begin our
+business again. My wife, on whose good feelings I rely, will accompany
+me, notwithstanding everything."
+
+And in these last words he put all the venom of his soul.
+
+"My daughter will not leave me!" exclaimed Madame Desvarennes.
+
+"Very well, then, you can accompany her," retorted Panine. "That
+arrangement will suit me. Since my troubles I have learned to appreciate
+domestic happiness."
+
+"Ah! you hope to play your old games on me," said Madame Desvarennes.
+"You won't get much out of me. My daughter and I with you--in the stream
+where you are going to sink? Never!"
+
+"Well, then," cried Panine, "what do you expect?"
+
+A violent ring at the front door resounded as Madame Desvarennes was
+about to answer, and stopped the words on her lips. This signal, which
+was used only on important occasions, sounded to Madame like a funeral
+knell. Serge frowned, and instinctively moved back.
+
+Marechal appeared through the half-open door with a scared face, and
+silently handed Madame Desvarennes a card. She glanced at it, turned
+pale, and said to the secretary:
+
+"Very well, let him wait!" She threw the card on the table. Serge came
+forward and read:
+
+"Delbarre, sheriff's officer."
+
+Haggard-looking and aghast, he turned to the mistress, as if seeking an
+explanation.
+
+"Well!" she observed: "it is clear, he has come to arrest you."
+
+Serge rushed to a cabinet, and opening a drawer, took forth some
+handfuls of gold and notes, which he crammed into his pockets.
+
+"By the back stairs I shall have time to get away. It is my last chance!
+Keep the man for five minutes only."
+
+"And if the door is guarded?" asked Madame Desvarennes.
+
+Serge remained abject before her. He felt himself enclosed in a ring
+which he could not break through.
+
+"One may be prosecuted without being condemned," he gasped. "You will
+use your influence, I know, and you will get me out of this mess. I
+shall be grateful to you for ever, and will do anything you like! But
+don't leave me, it would be cowardly!"
+
+He trembled, as he thus besought her distractedly.
+
+"The son-in-law of Madame Desvarennes does not go before the Assize
+Courts even to be acquitted," said she, with a firm voice.
+
+"What would you have me do?" cried Serge, passionately.
+
+Madame Desvarennes did not answer, but pointed to the revolver on the
+table.
+
+"Kill myself? Ah! no; that would be giving you too much pleasure."
+
+And he gave the weapon a push, so that it rolled close to Madame
+Desvarennes.
+
+"Ah! wretch!" cried she, giving way to her suppressed rage. "You are not
+even a Panine! The Panines knew how to die."
+
+"I have not time to act a melodrama with you," snarled Serge. "I am
+going to try to save myself."
+
+And he took a step toward the door.
+
+The mistress seized the revolver, and threw herself before him.
+
+"You shall not go out!" she cried.
+
+"Are you mad?" he exclaimed, gnashing his teeth.
+
+"You shall not go out!" repeated the mistress, with flashing eyes.
+
+"We shall see!"
+
+And with a strong arm he seized Madame Desvarennes, and threw her aside.
+
+The mistress became livid. Serge had his hand on the handle of the door.
+He was about to escape. Madame Desvarennes's arm was stretched forth.
+
+A shot made the windows rattle; the weapon fell from her hand, having
+done its work and, amid the smoke, a body dropped heavily on the carpet,
+which was soon dyed with blood.
+
+At the same moment, the door opened, and Micheline entered, holding in
+her hand the fatal receipt which she had just wrung from Cayrol. The
+young wife uttered a heartrending cry, and fell senseless on Serge's
+body.
+
+Behind Micheline came the officer and Marechal. The secretary exchanged
+looks with the mistress, who was lifting her fainting daughter and
+clasping her in her arms. He understood all.
+
+Turning toward his companion, he said:
+
+"Alas! sir, here is a sad matter! The Prince, on hearing that you had
+come, took fright, although his fault was not very serious, and has shot
+himself."
+
+The officer bowed respectfully to the mistress, who was bending over
+Micheline.
+
+"Please to withdraw, Madame. You have already suffered too much," said
+he. "I understand your legitimate grief. If I need any information, this
+gentleman will give it to me."
+
+Madame Desvarennes arose, and, without bending under the burden, she
+bore away on her bosom her daughter, regained.
+
+
+     ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:
+
+     A man weeps with difficulty before a woman
+     A uniform is the only garb which can hide poverty honorably
+     Antagonism to plutocracy and hatred of aristocrats
+     Because they moved, they thought they were progressing
+     Cowardly in trouble as he had been insolent in prosperity
+     Enough to be nobody's unless I belong to him
+     Even those who do not love her desire to know her
+     Everywhere was feverish excitement, dissipation, and nullity
+     Flayed and roasted alive by the critics
+     Forget a dream and accept a reality
+     Hard workers are pitiful lovers
+     He lost his time, his money, his hair, his illusions
+     He was very unhappy at being misunderstood
+     Heed that you lose not in dignity what you gain in revenge
+     I thought the best means of being loved were to deserve it
+     I don't pay myself with words
+     Implacable self-interest which is the law of the world
+     In life it is only nonsense that is common-sense
+     Is a man ever poor when he has two arms?
+     Is it by law only that you wish to keep me?
+     It was a relief when they rose from the table
+     Men of pleasure remain all their lives mediocre workers
+     Money troubles are not mortal
+     My aunt is jealous of me because I am a man of ideas
+     Negroes, all but monkeys!
+     Nothing that provokes laughter more than a disappointed lover
+     One amuses one's self at the risk of dying
+     Patience, should he encounter a dull page here or there
+     Romanticism still ferments beneath the varnish of Naturalism
+     Sacrifice his artistic leanings to popular caprice
+     Scarcely was one scheme launched when another idea occurred
+     She would have liked the world to be in mourning
+     Suffering is a human law; the world is an arena
+     Talk with me sometimes. You will not chatter trivialities
+     The guilty will not feel your blows, but the innocent
+     The uncontested power which money brings
+     They had only one aim, one passion--to enjoy themselves
+     Unqualified for happiness
+     We had taken the dream of a day for eternal happiness
+     What is a man who remains useless
+     Without a care or a cross, he grew weary like a prisoner
+     You are talking too much about it to be sincere
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Serge Panine, Complete, by Georges Ohnet
+
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+The Project Gutenberg Etext of Serge Panine, by Georges Ohnet, entire
+#5 in our series The French Immortals Crowned by the French Academy
+#5 in our series by Georges Ohnet
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+Title: Serge Panine, complete
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+Author: Georges Ohnet
+
+Release Date: April, 2003  [Etext #3918]
+[Yes, we are about one year ahead of schedule]
+[The actual date this file first posted = 08/19/01]
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+The Project Gutenberg Etext of Serge Panine, entire, by Georges Ohnet
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+
+
+[NOTE: There is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the
+file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an
+entire meal of them.  D.W.]
+
+
+
+
+
+SERGE PANINE
+
+By GEORGES OHNET
+
+
+With a General Introduction to the Series by GASTON BOISSIER, Secretaire
+Perpetuel de l'academie Francaise.
+
+
+
+
+GENERAL INTRODUCTION
+
+1905
+
+BY ROBERT ARNOT
+
+The editor-in-chief of the Maison Mazarin--a man of letters who cherishes
+an enthusiastic yet discriminating love for the literary and artistic
+glories of France--formed within the last two years the great project of
+collecting and presenting to the vast numbers of intelligent readers of
+whom New World boasts a series of those great and undying romances which,
+since 1784, have received the crown of merit awarded by the French
+Academy--that coveted assurance of immortality in letters and in art.
+
+In the presentation of this serious enterprise for the criticism and
+official sanction of The Academy, 'en seance', was included a request
+that, if possible, the task of writing a preface to the series should be
+undertaken by me.  Official sanction having been bestowed upon the plan,
+I, as the accredited officer of the French Academy, convey to you its
+hearty appreciation, endorsement, and sympathy with a project so nobly
+artistic.  It is also my duty, privilege, and pleasure to point out, at
+the request of my brethren, the peculiar importance and lasting value of
+this series to all who would know the inner life of a people whose
+greatness no turns of fortune have been able to diminish.
+
+In the last hundred years France has experienced the most terrible
+vicissitudes, but, vanquished or victorious, triumphant or abased, never
+has she lost her peculiar gift of attracting the curiosity of the world.
+She interests every living being, and even those who do not love her
+desire to know her.  To this peculiar attraction which radiates from her,
+artists and men of letters can well bear witness, since it is to
+literature and to the arts, before all, that France owes such living and
+lasting power.  In every quarter of the civilized world there are
+distinguished writers, painters, and eminent musicians, but in France
+they exist in greater numbers than elsewhere.  Moreover, it is
+universally conceded that French writers and artists have this particular
+and praiseworthy quality: they are most accessible to people of other
+countries.  Without losing their national characteristics, they possess
+the happy gift of universality.  To speak of letters alone: the books
+that Frenchmen write are read, translated, dramatized, and imitated
+everywhere; so it is not strange that these books give to foreigners a
+desire for a nearer and more intimate acquaintance with France.
+
+Men preserve an almost innate habit of resorting to Paris from almost
+every quarter of the globe.  For many years American visitors have been
+more numerous than others, although the journey from the United States is
+long and costly.  But I am sure that when for the first time they see
+Paris--its palaces, its churches, its museums--and visit Versailles,
+Fontainebleau, and Chantilly, they do not regret the travail they have
+undergone.  Meanwhile, however, I ask myself whether such sightseeing is
+all that, in coming hither, they wish to accomplish.  Intelligent
+travellers--and, as a rule, it is the intelligent class that feels the
+need of the educative influence of travel--look at our beautiful
+monuments, wander through the streets and squares among the crowds that
+fill them, and, observing them, I ask myself again: Do not such people
+desire to study at closer range these persons who elbow them as they
+pass; do they not wish to enter the houses of which they see but the
+facades; do they not wish to know how Parisians live and speak and act by
+their firesides?  But time, alas! is lacking for the formation of those
+intimate friendships which would bring this knowledge within their grasp.
+French homes are rarely open to birds of passage, and visitors leave us
+with regret that they have not been able to see more than the surface of
+our civilization or to recognize by experience the note of our inner home
+life.
+
+How, then, shall this void be filled?  Speaking in the first person, the
+simplest means appears to be to study those whose profession it is to
+describe the society of the time, and primarily, therefore, the works of
+dramatic writers, who are supposed to draw a faithful picture of it.  So
+we go to the theatre, and usually derive keen pleasure therefrom.  But is
+pleasure all that we expect to find?  What we should look for above
+everything in a comedy or a drama is a representation, exact as possible,
+of the manners and characters of the dramatis persona of the play; and
+perhaps the conditions under which the play was written do not allow such
+representation.  The exact and studied portrayal of a character demands
+from the author long preparation, and cannot be accomplished in a few
+hours.  From, the first scene to the last, each tale must be posed in the
+author's mind exactly as it will be proved to be at the end.  It is the
+author's aim and mission to place completely before his audience the
+souls of the "agonists" laying bare the complications of motive, and
+throwing into relief the delicate shades of motive that sway them.
+Often, too, the play is produced before a numerous audience--an audience
+often distrait, always pressed for time, and impatient of the least
+delay.  Again, the public in general require that they shall be able to
+understand without difficulty, and at first thought, the characters the
+author seeks to present, making it necessary that these characters be
+depicted from their most salient sides--which are too often vulgar and
+unattractive.
+
+In our comedies and dramas it is not the individual that is drawn, but
+the type.  Where the individual alone is real, the type is a myth of the
+imagination--a pure invention.  And invention is the mainspring of the
+theatre, which rests purely upon illusion, and does not please us unless
+it begins by deceiving us.
+
+I believe, then, that if one seeks to know the world exactly as it is,
+the theatre does not furnish the means whereby one can pursue the study.
+A far better opportunity for knowing the private life of a people is
+available through the medium of its great novels.  The novelist deals
+with each person as an individual.  He speaks to his reader at an hour
+when the mind is disengaged from worldly affairs, and he can add without
+restraint every detail that seems needful to him to complete the rounding
+of his story.  He can return at will, should he choose, to the source of
+the plot he is unfolding, in order that his reader may better understand
+him; he can emphasize and dwell upon those details which an audience in a
+theatre will not allow.
+
+The reader, being at leisure, feels no impatience, for he knows that he
+can at any time lay down or take up the book.  It is the consciousness of
+this privilege that gives him patience, should he encounter a dull page
+here or there.  He may hasten or delay his reading, according to the
+interest he takes in his romance-nay, more, he can return to the earlier
+pages, should he need to do so, for a better comprehension of some
+obscure point.  In proportion as he is attracted and interested by the
+romance, and also in the degree of concentration with which he reads it,
+does he grasp better the subtleties of the narrative.  No shade of
+character drawing escapes him.  He realizes, with keener appreciation,
+the most delicate of human moods, and the novelist is not compelled to
+introduce the characters to him, one by one, distinguishing them only by
+the most general characteristics, but can describe each of those little
+individual idiosyncrasies that contribute to the sum total of a living
+personality.
+
+When I add that the dramatic author is always to a certain extent a slave
+to the public, and must ever seek to please the passing taste of his
+time, it will be recognized that he is often, alas! compelled to
+sacrifice his artistic leanings to popular caprice-that is, if he has the
+natural desire that his generation should applaud him.
+
+As a rule, with the theatre-going masses, one person follows the fads or
+fancies of others, and individual judgments are too apt to be
+irresistibly swayed by current opinion.  But the novelist, entirely
+independent of his reader, is not compelled to conform himself to the
+opinion of any person, or to submit to his caprices.  He is absolutely
+free to picture society as he sees it, and we therefore can have more
+confidence in his descriptions of the customs and characters of the day.
+
+It is precisely this view of the case that the editor of the series has
+taken, and herein is the raison d'etre of this collection of great French
+romances.  The choice was not easy to make.  That form of literature
+called the romance abounds with us.  France has always loved it, for
+French writers exhibit a curiosity--and I may say an indiscretion--that
+is almost charming in the study of customs and morals at large; a quality
+that induces them to talk freely of themselves and of their neighbors,
+and to set forth fearlessly both the good and the bad in human nature.
+In this fascinating phase of literature, France never has produced
+greater examples than of late years.
+
+In the collection here presented to American readers will be found those
+works especially which reveal the intimate side of French social life-
+works in which are discussed the moral problems that affect most potently
+the life of the world at large.  If inquiring spirits seek to learn the
+customs and manners of the France of any age, they must look for it among
+her crowned romances.  They need go back no farther than Ludovic Halevy,
+who may be said to open the modern epoch.  In the romantic school, on its
+historic side, Alfred de Vigny must be looked upon as supreme.  De Musset
+and Anatole France may be taken as revealing authoritatively the moral
+philosophy of nineteenth-century thought.  I must not omit to mention the
+Jacqueline of Th. Bentzon, and the "Attic " Philosopher of Emile
+Souvestre, nor the, great names of Loti, Claretie, Coppe, Bazin, Bourget,
+Malot, Droz, De Massa, and last, but not least, our French Dickens,
+Alphonse Daudet.  I need not add more; the very names of these
+"Immortals" suffice to commend the series to readers in all countries.
+
+One word in conclusion: America may rest assured that her students of
+international literature will find in this series of 'ouvrages couronnes'
+all that they may wish to know of France at her own fireside--a knowledge
+that too often escapes them, knowledge that embraces not only a faithful
+picture of contemporary life in the French provinces, but a living and
+exact description of French society in modern times.  They may feel
+certain that when they have read these romances, they will have sounded
+the depths and penetrated into the hidden intimacies of France, not only
+as she is, but as she would be known.
+
+                                        GASTON BOISSIER
+
+SECRETAIRE PERPETUEL DE L'ACADEMIE FRANCAISE
+
+
+
+
+GEORGES OHNET
+
+The only French novelist whose books have a circulation approaching the
+works of Daudet and of Zola is Georges Ohnet, a writer whose popularity
+is as interesting as his stories, because it explains, though it does not
+excuse, the contempt the Goncourts had for the favor of the great French
+public, and also because it shows how the highest form of Romanticism
+still ferments beneath the varnish of Naturalism in what is called genius
+among the great masses of readers.
+
+Georges Ohnet was born in Paris, April 3, 1848, the son of an architect.
+He was destined for the Bar, but was early attracted by journalism and
+literature.  Being a lawyer it was not difficult for him to join the
+editorial staff of Le Pays, and later Le Constitutionnel.  This was soon
+after the Franco-German War.  His romances, since collected under the
+title 'Batailles de la Vie', appeared first in 'Le Figaro,
+L'Illustration, and Revue des Deux Mondes', and have been exceedingly
+well received by the public.  This relates also to his dramas, some of
+his works meeting with a popular success rarely extended to any author.
+For some time Georges Ohnet did not find the same favor with the critics,
+who often attacked him with a passionate violence and unusual severity.
+True, a high philosophical flow of thoughts cannot be detected in his
+writings, but nevertheless it is certain that the characters and the
+subjects of which he treats are brilliantly sketched and clearly
+developed.  They are likewise of perfect morality and honesty.
+
+There was expected of him, however, an idea which was not quite realized.
+Appearing upon the literary stage at a period when Naturalism was
+triumphant, it was for a moment believed that he would restore Idealism
+in the manner of George Sand.
+
+In any case the hostile critics have lost.  For years public opinion has
+exalted him, and the reaction is the more significant when compared with
+the tremendous criticism launched against his early romances and novels.
+
+A list of his works follows:
+
+Serge Panine (1881), crowned by the French Academy, has since gone
+through one hundred and fifty French editions; Le Maitre des Forges (1882),
+a prodigious success, two hundred and fifty editions being printed (1900);
+La Comtesse Sarah (1882); Lise Fleuyon (1884);  La Grande Maynieye
+(1886);  Les Dames de Croix-Mort (1886); Volonte (1888);  Le Docteur
+Rameau (1889);  Deynier Amour (1889);  Le Cure de Favieyes (1890);  Dette
+de Haine (1891);  Nemsod et Cie. (1892); Le Lendemain des Amours (1893);
+Le Droit de l'Enfant (1894.);  Les Vielles Rancunes (1894);  La Dame en
+Gris (1895); La Fille du Depute (1896);  Le Roi de Paris (1898);  Au Fond
+du Gouffre (1899);  Gens de la Noce (1900);  La Tenibreuse (1900); Le
+Cyasseur d'Affaires (1901); Le Crepuscule (1901);  Le Marche a l'Amour
+(1902).
+
+Ohnet's novels are collected under the titles, 'Noir et Rose (1887) and
+L'Ame de Pierre (1890).
+
+The dramatic writings of Georges Ohnet, mostly taken from his novels,
+have greatly contributed to his reputation.  Le Maitre des Forges was
+played for a full year (Gymnase, 1883); it was followed by Serge Panine
+(1884); La Comtesse Sarah (1887).  La Grande Mayniere (1888), met also
+with a decided and prolonged success; Dernier Amour (Gymnase, 1890);
+Colonel Roquebrune (Porte St.  Martin, 1897).  Before that he had already
+written the plays Regina Sarpi (1875) and Marthe (1877), which yet hold a
+prominent place upon the French stage.
+
+I have shown in this rapid sketch that a man of the stamp of Georges
+Ohnet must have immortal qualities in himself, even though flayed and
+roasted alive by the critics.  He is most assuredly an artist in form,
+is endowed with a brilliant style, and has been named "L'Historiographe
+de la bourgeoise contemporaine."  Indeed, antagonism to plutocracy and
+hatred of aristocracy are the fundamental theses in almost every one of
+his books.
+
+His exposition, I repeat, is startlingly neat, the development of his
+plots absolutely logical, and the world has acclaimed his ingenuity in
+dramatic construction.  He is truly, and in all senses, of the Ages.
+
+                                        VICTOR CHERBOULIEZ
+                                     de l'Academie Francaise
+
+
+
+
+
+SERGE PANINE
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+THE HOUSE OF DESVARENNES
+
+The firm of Desvarennes has been in an ancient mansion in the Rue Saint
+Dominique since 1875; it is one of the best known and most important in
+French industry.  The counting-houses are in the wings of the building
+looking upon the courtyard, which were occupied by the servants when the
+family whose coat-of-arms has been effaced from above the gate-way were
+still owners of the estate.
+
+Madame Desvarennes inhabits the mansion which she has had magnificently
+renovated.  A formidable rival of the Darblays, the great millers of
+France, the firm of Desvarennes is a commercial and political power.
+Inquire in Paris about its solvency, and you will be told that you may
+safely advance twenty millions of francs on the signature of the head of
+the firm.  And this head is a woman.
+
+This woman is remarkable.  Gifted with keen understanding and a firm
+will, she had in former times vowed to make a large fortune, and she has
+kept her word.
+
+She was the daughter of a humble packer of the Rue Neuve-Coquenard.
+Toward 1848 she married Michel Desvarennes, who was then a journeyman
+baker in a large shop in the Chaussee d'Antin.  With the thousand francs
+which the packer managed to give his daughter by way of dowry, the young
+couple boldly took a shop and started a little bakery business.  The
+husband kneaded and baked the bread, and the young wife, seated at the
+counter, kept watch over the till.  Neither on Sundays nor on holidays
+was the shop shut.
+
+Through the window, between two pyramids of pink and blue packets of
+biscuits, one could always catch sight of the serious-looking Madame
+Desvarennes, knitting woollen stockings for her husband while waiting for
+customers.  With her prominent forehead, and her eyes always bent on her
+work, this woman appeared the living image of perseverance.
+
+At the end of five years of incessant work, and possessing twenty
+thousand francs, saved sou by sou, the Desvarennes left the slopes of
+Montmartre, and moved to the centre of Paris.  They were ambitious and
+full of confidence.  They set up in the Rue Vivienne, in a shop
+resplendent with gilding and ornamented with looking-glasses.  The
+ceiling was painted in panels with bright hued pictures that caught the
+eyes of the passers-by.  The window-shelves were of white marble, and the
+counter, where Madame Desvarennes was still enthroned, was of a width
+worthy of the receipts that were taken every day.  Business increased
+daily; the Desvarennes continued to be hard and systematic workers.  The
+class of customers alone had changed; they were more numerous and richer.
+The house had a specialty for making small rolls for the restaurants.
+Michel had learned from the Viennese bakers how to make those golden
+balls which tempt the most rebellious appetite, and which, when in an
+artistically folded damask napkin, set off a dinner-table.
+
+About this time Madame Desvarennes, while calculating how much the
+millers must gain on the flour they sell to the bakers, resolved, in
+order to lessen expenses, to do without middlemen and grind her own corn.
+Michel, naturally timid, was frightened when his wife disclosed to him
+the simple project which she had formed.  Accustomed to submit to the
+will of her whom he respectfully called "the mistress," and of whom he
+was but the head clerk, he dared not oppose her.  But, a red-tapist by
+nature, and hating innovations, owing to weakness of mind, he trembled
+inwardly and cried in agony:
+
+"Wife, you'll ruin us."
+
+The mistress calmed the poor man's alarm; she tried to impart to him some
+of her confidence, to animate him with her hope, but without success, so
+she went on without him.  A mill was for sale at Jouy, on the banks of
+the Oise; she paid ready money for it, and a few weeks later the bakery
+in the Rue Vivienne was independent of every one.  She ground her own
+flour, and from that time business increased considerably. Feeling
+capable of carrying out large undertakings, and, moreover, desirous of
+giving up the meannesses of retail trade, Madame Desvarennes, one fine
+day, sent in a tender for supplying bread to the military hospitals. It
+was accepted, and from that time the house ranked among the most
+important.  On seeing the Desvarennes take their daring flight, the
+leading men in the trade had said:
+
+"They have system and activity, and if they do not upset on the way, they
+will attain a high position."
+
+But the mistress seemed to have the gift of divination.  She worked
+surely--if she struck out one way you might be certain that success was
+there.  In all her enterprises, "good luck" stood close by her; she
+scented failures from afar, and the firm never made a bad debt.  Still
+Michel continued to tremble.  The first mill had been followed by many
+more; then the old system appeared insufficient to Madame Desvarennes.
+As she wished to keep up with the increase of business she had steam-
+mills built,--which are now grinding three hundred million francs' worth
+of corn every year.
+
+Fortune had favored the house immensely, but Michel continued to tremble.
+From time to time when the mistress launched out a new business, he
+timidly ventured on his usual saying:
+
+"Wife, you're going to ruin us."
+
+But one felt it was only for form's sake, and that he himself no longer
+meant what he said.  Madame Desvarennes received this plaintive
+remonstrance with a calm smile, and answered, maternally, as to a child:
+
+"There, there, don't be frightened."
+
+Then she would set to work again, and direct with irresistible vigor the
+army of clerks who peopled her counting-houses.
+
+In fifteen years' time, by prodigious efforts of will and energy, Madame
+Desvarennes had made her way from the lonely and muddy Rue Neuve-
+Coquenard to the mansion in the Rue Saint-Dominique.  Of the bakery there
+was no longer question.  It was some time since the business in the Rue
+Vivienne had been transferred to the foreman of the shop.  The flour
+trade alone occupied Madame Desvarennes's attention.  She ruled the
+prices in the market; and great bankers came to her office and did
+business with her on a footing of equality.  She did not become any
+prouder for it, she knew too well the strength and weakness of life to
+have pride; her former plain dealing had not stiffened into self-
+sufficiency.  Such as one had known her when beginning business, such one
+found her in the zenith of her fortune.  Instead of a woollen gown she
+wore a silk one, but the color was still black; her language had not
+become refined; she retained the same blunt familiar accent, and at the
+end of five minutes' conversation with any one of importance she could
+not resist calling him "my dear," to come morally near him.  Her commands
+had more fulness.  In giving her orders, she had the manner of a
+commander-in-chief, and it was useless to haggle when she had spoken.
+The best thing to do was to obey, as well and as promptly as possible.
+
+Placed in a political sphere, this marvellously gifted woman would have
+been a Madame Roland; born to the throne, she would have been a Catherine
+II.; there was genius in her.  Sprung from the lower ranks, her
+superiority had given her wealth; had she come from the higher, the great
+mind might have governed the world.
+
+Still she was not happy; she had been married fifteen years, and her
+fireside was devoid of a cradle.  During the first years she had rejoiced
+at not having a child.  Where could she have found time to occupy herself
+with a baby?  Business engrossed her attention; she had no leisure to
+amuse herself with trifles.  Maternity seemed to her a luxury for rich
+women; she had her fortune to make.  In the struggle against the
+difficulties attending the enterprise she had begun, she had not had time
+to look around her and perceive that her home was lonely.  She worked
+from morning till night.  Her whole life was absorbed in this work, and
+when night came, overcome with fatigue, she fell asleep, her head filled
+with cares which stifled all tricks of the imagination.
+
+Michel grieved, but in silence; his feeble and dependent nature missed a
+child.  He, whose mind lacked occupation, thought of the future.  He said
+to himself that the day when the dreamt-of fortune came would be more
+welcome if there were an heir to whom to leave it.  What was the good of
+being rich, if the money went to collateral relatives?  There was his
+nephew Savinien, a disagreeable urchin whom he looked on with
+indifference; and he was biased regarding his brother, who had all but
+failed several times in business, and to whose aid he had come to save
+the honor of the name.  The mistress had not hesitated to help him, and
+had prevented the signature of "Desvarennes" being protested.  She had
+not taunted him, having as large a heart as she had a mind.  But Michel
+had felt humiliated to see his own folk make a gap in the financial
+edifice erected so laboriously by his wife.  Out of this had gradually
+sprung a sense of dissatisfaction with the Desvarennes of the other
+branch, which manifested itself by a marked coolness, when, by chance,
+his brother came to the house, accompanied by his son Savinien.
+
+And then the paternity of his brother made him secretly jealous.
+Why should that incapable fellow, who succeeded in nothing, have a son?
+It was only those ne'er-do-well sort of people who were thus favored.
+He, Michel, already called the rich Desvarennes, he had not a son.  Was
+it just?  But where is there justice in this world?
+
+The first time that she saw him with a downcast face the mistress had
+questioned him, and he had frankly expressed his regrets.  But he had
+been so repelled by his wife, in whose heart a great trouble, steadily
+repressed, however, had been produced, that he never dared to recur to
+the subject.
+
+He suffered in silence.  But he no longer suffered alone.  Like an
+overflowing river that finds an outlet in the valley, which it inundates,
+the longings for maternity, hitherto repressed by the preoccupations of
+business, had suddenly seized Madame Desvarennes.
+
+Strong and unyielding, she struggled and would not own herself conquered.
+Still she became sad.  Her voice sounded less sonorously in the offices
+where she gave an order; her energetic nature seemed subdued.  Now she
+looked around her.  She beheld prosperity made stable by incessant work,
+respect gained by spotless honesty; she had attained the goal which she
+had marked out in her ambitious dreams, as being paradise itself.
+Paradise was there; but it lacked the angel.  They had no child.
+
+From that day a change came over this woman, slowly but surely; scarcely
+perceptible to strangers, but easy to be seen by those around her.
+She became benevolent, and gave away considerable sums of money,
+especially to children's "Homes."  But when the good people who governed
+these establishments, lured on by her generosity, came to ask her to be
+on their committee of management, she became angry, asking them if they
+were joking with her?  What interest could those brats have for her?
+She had other fish to fry.  She gave them what they needed, and what
+more could they want?  The fact was she felt weak and troubled before
+children.  But within her a powerful and unknown voice had arisen, and
+the hour was not far distant when the bitter wave of her regrets was to
+overflow and be made manifest.
+
+She did not like Savinien, her nephew, and kept all her sweetness for the
+son of one of their old neighbors in the Rue Neuve-Coquenard, a small
+haberdasher, who had not been able to get on, but continued humbly to
+sell thread and needles to the thrifty folks of the neighborhood.  The
+haberdasher, Mother Delarue, as she was called, had remained a widow
+after one year of married life.  Pierre, her boy, had grown up under the
+shadow of the bakery, the cradle of the Desvarennes's fortunes.
+
+On Sundays the mistress would give him a gingerbread or a cracknel, and
+amuse herself with his baby prattle.  She did not lose sight of him when
+she removed to the Rue Vivienne.  Pierre had entered the elementary
+school of the neighborhood, and by his precocious intelligence and
+exceptional application, had not been long in getting to the top of his
+class.  The boy had left school after gaining an exhibition admitting him
+to the Chaptal College.  This hard worker, who was in a fair way of
+making his own position without costing his relatives anything, greatly
+interested Madame Desvarennes.  She found in this plucky nature a
+striking analogy to herself.  She formed projects for Pierre's future;
+in fancy she saw him enter the Polytechnic school, and leave it with
+honors.  The young man had the choice of becoming a mining or civil
+engineer, and of entering the government service.
+
+He was hesitating what to do when the mistress came and offered him a
+situation in her firm as junior partner; it was a golden bridge that she
+placed before him.  With his exceptional capacities he was not long in
+giving to the house a new impulse.  He perfected the machinery, and
+triumphantly defied all competition.  All this was a happy dream in which
+Pierre was to her a real son; her home became his, and she monopolized
+him completely.  But suddenly a shadow came o'er the spirit of her
+dreams.  Pierre's mother, the little haberdasher, proud of her son, would
+she consent to give him up to a stranger?  Oh! if Pierre had only been an
+orphan!  But one could not rob a mother of her son!  And Madame
+Desvarennes stopped the flight of her imagination.  She followed Pierre
+with anxious looks; but she forbade herself to dispose of the youth: he
+did not belong to her.
+
+This woman, at the age of thirty-five, still young in heart, was
+disturbed by feelings which she strove, but vainly, to rule.  She hid
+them especially from her husband, whose repining chattering she feared.
+If she had once shown him her weakness he would have overwhelmed her
+daily with the burden of his regrets.  But an unforeseen circumstance
+placed her at Michel's mercy.
+
+Winter had come, bringing December and its snow.  The weather this year
+was exceptionally inclement, and traffic in the streets was so difficult,
+business was almost suspended.  The mistress left her deserted offices
+and retired early to her private apartments.  The husband and wife spent
+their evenings alone.  They sat there, facing each other, at the
+fireside.  A shade concentrated the light of the lamp upon the table
+covered with expensive knick-knacks.  The ceiling was sometimes vaguely
+lighted up by a glimmer from the stove which glittered on the gilt
+cornices.  Ensconced in deep comfortable armchairs, the pair respectively
+caressed their favorite dream without speaking of it.
+
+Madame Desvarennes saw beside her a little pink-and-white baby girl,
+toddling on the carpet.  She heard her words, understood her language,
+untranslatable to all others than a mother.  Then bedtime came.  The
+child, with heavy eyelids, let her little fair-haired head fall on her
+shoulders.  Madame Desvarennes took her in her arms and undressed her
+quietly, kissing her bare and dimpled arms.  It was exquisite enjoyment
+which stirred her heart deliciously.  She saw the cradle, and devoured
+the child with her eyes.  She knew that the picture was a myth.  But what
+did it matter to her?  She was happy.  Michel's voice broke on her
+reverie.
+
+"Wife," said he, "this is Christmas Eve; and as there are only us two,
+suppose you put your slipper on the hearth."
+
+Madame Desvarennes rose.  Her eyes vaguely turned toward the hearth on
+which the fire was dying, and beside the upright of the large sculptured
+mantelpiece she beheld for a moment a tiny shoe, belonging to the child
+which she loved to see in her dreams.  Then the vision vanished, and
+there was nothing left but the lonely hearth.  A sharp pain tore her
+swollen heart; a sob rose to her lips, and, slowly, two tears rolled down
+her cheeks.  Michel, quite pale, looked at her in silence; he held out
+his hand to her, and said, in a trembling voice:
+
+"You were thinking about it, eh?"
+
+Madame Desvarennes bowed her head, twice, silently, and without adding
+another word, the pair fell into each other's arms and wept.
+
+From that day they hid nothing from each other, and shared their troubles
+and regrets in common.  The mistress unburdened her heart by making a
+full confession, and Michel, for the first time in his life, learned the
+depth of soul of his companion to its inmost recesses.  This woman, so
+energetic, so obstinate, was, as it were, broken down.  The springs of
+her will seemed worn out.  She felt despondencies and wearinesses until
+then unknown.  Work tired her.  She did not venture down to the offices;
+she talked of giving up business, which was a bad sign.  She longed for
+country air.  Were they not rich enough?  With their simple tastes so
+much money was unnecessary.  In fact, they had no wants.  They would go
+to some pretty estate in the suburbs of Paris, live there and plant
+cabbages.  Why work?  they had no children.
+
+Michel agreed to these schemes.  For a long time he had wished for
+repose.  Often he had feared that his wife's ambition would lead them too
+far.  But now, since she stopped of her own accord, it was all for the
+best.
+
+At this juncture their solicitor informed them that, near to their works,
+the Cernay estate was to be put up for sale.  Very often, when going from
+Jouy to the mills, Madame Desvarennes had noticed the chateau, the slate
+roofs of the turrets of which rose gracefully from a mass of deep
+verdure.  The Count de Cernay, the last representative of a noble race,
+had just died of consumption, brought on by reckless living, leaving
+nothing behind him but debts and a little girl two years old.  Her
+mother, an Italian singer and his mistress, had left him one morning
+without troubling herself about the child.  Everything was to be sold,
+by order of the Court.
+
+Some most lamentable incidents had saddened the Count's last hours.  The
+bailiffs had entered the house with the doctor when he came to pay his
+last call, and the notices of the sale were all but posted up before the
+funeral was over.  Jeanne, the orphan, scared amid the troubles of this
+wretched end, seeing unknown men walking into the reception-rooms with
+their hats on, hearing strangers speaking loudly and with arrogance, had
+taken refuge in the laundry.  It was there that Madame Desvarennes found
+her, playing, plainly dressed in a little alpaca frock, her pretty hair
+loose and falling on her shoulders.  She looked astonished at what she
+had seen; silent, not daring to run or sing as formerly in the great
+desolate house whence the master had just been taken away forever.
+
+With the vague instinct of abandoned children who seek to attach
+themselves to some one or some thing, Jeanne clung to Madame Desvarennes,
+who, ready to protect, and longing for maternity, took the child in her
+arms.  The gardener's wife acted as guide during her visit over the
+property.  Madame Desvarennes questioned her.  She knew nothing of the
+child except what she had heard from the servants when they gossiped in
+the evenings about their late master.  They said Jeanne was a bastard.
+Of her relatives they knew nothing.  The Count had an aunt in England who
+was married to a rich lord; but he had not corresponded with her lately.
+The little one then was reduced to beggary as the estate was to be sold.
+
+The gardener's wife was a good woman and was willing to keep the child
+until the new proprietor came; but when once affairs were settled, she
+would certainly go and make a declaration to the mayor, and take her to
+the workhouse.  Madame Desvarennes listened in silence.  One word only
+had struck her while the woman was speaking.  The child was without
+support, without ties, and abandoned like a poor lost dog.  The little
+one was pretty too; and when she fixed her large deep eyes on that
+improvised mother, who pressed her so tenderly to her heart, she seemed
+to implore her not to put her down, and to carry her away from the
+mourning that troubled her mind and the isolation that froze her heart.
+
+Madame Desvarennes, very superstitious, like a woman of the people, began
+to think that, perhaps, Providence had brought her to Cernay that day and
+had placed the child in her path.  It was perhaps a reparation which
+heaven granted her, in giving her the little girl she so longed for.
+Acting unhesitatingly, as she did in everything, she left her name with
+the woman, carried Jeanne to her carriage, and took her to Paris,
+promising herself to make inquiries to find her relatives.
+
+A month later, the property of Cernay pleasing her, and the researches
+for Jeanne's friends not proving successful, Madame Desvarennes took
+possession of the estate and the child into the bargain.
+
+Michel welcomed the child without enthusiasm.  The little stranger was
+indifferent to him; he would have preferred adopting a boy.  The mistress
+was delighted.  Her maternal instincts, so long stifled, developed fully.
+She made plans for the future.  Her energy returned; she spoke loudly and
+firmly.  But in her appearance there was revealed an inward contentment
+never remarked before, which made her sweeter and more benevolent.  She
+no longer spoke of retiring from business.  The discouragement which had
+seized her left her as if by magic.  The house which had been so dull for
+some months became noisy and gay.  The child, like a sunbeam, had
+scattered the clouds.
+
+It was then that the most unlooked-for phenomenon, which was so
+considerably to influence Madame Desvarennes's life, occurred.  At the
+moment when the mistress seemed provided by chance with the heiress so
+much longed for, she learned with surprise that she was about to become a
+mother!  After sixteen years of married life, this discovery was almost a
+discomfiture.  What would have been delight formerly was now a cause for
+fear.  She, almost an old woman!
+
+There was an incredible commotion in the business world when the news
+became known.  The younger branch of Desvarennes had witnessed Jeanne's
+arrival with little satisfaction, and were still more gloomy when they
+learned that the chances of their succeeding to great wealth were over.
+Still they did not lose all hopes.  At thirty-five years of age one
+cannot always tell how these little affairs will come off.  An accident
+was possible.  But none occurred; all passed off well.
+
+Madame Desvarennes was as strong physically as she was morally, and
+proved victorious by bringing into the world a little girl, who was named
+Michelins in honor of her father.  The mistress's heart was large enough
+to hold two children; she kept the orphan she had adopted, and brought
+her up as if she had been her very own.  Still there was soon an enormous
+difference in her manner of loving Jeanne and Michelins.  This mother had
+for the long-wished-for child an ardent, mad, passionate love like that
+of a tigress for her cubs.  She had never loved her husband.  All the
+tenderness which had accumulated in her heart blossomed, and it was like
+spring.
+
+This autocrat, who had never allowed contradiction, and before whom all
+her dependents bowed either with or against the grain, was now led in her
+turn; the bronze of her character became like wax in the little pink
+hands of her daughter.  The commanding woman bent before the little fair
+head.  There was nothing good enough for Micheline.  Had the mother owned
+the world she would have placed it at the little one's feet.  One tear
+from the child upset her.  If on one of the most important subjects
+Madame Desvarennes had said "No," and Micheline came and said "Yes," the
+hitherto resolute will became subordinate to the caprice of a child.
+They knew it in the house and acted upon it.  This manoeuvre succeeded
+each time, although Madame Desvarennes had seen through it from the
+first.  It appeared as if the mother felt a secret joy in proving under
+all circumstances the unbounded adoration which she felt for her
+daughter.  She often said:
+
+"Pretty as she is, and rich as I shall make her, what husband will be
+worthy of Micheline?  But if she believes me when it is time to choose
+one, she will prefer a man remarkable for his intelligence, and will give
+him her fortune as a stepping-stone to raise him as high as she chooses
+him to go."
+
+Inwardly she was thinking of Pierre Delarue, who had just taken honors at
+the Polytechnic school, and who seemed to have a brilliant career before
+him.  This woman, humbly born, was proud of her origin, and sought a
+plebeian for her son-in-law, to put into his hand a golden tool powerful
+enough to move the world.
+
+Micheline was ten years old when her father died.  Alas, Michel was not a
+great loss.  They wore mourning for him; but they hardly noticed that he
+was absent.  His whole life had been a void.  Madame Desvarennes, it is
+sad to say, felt herself more mistress of her child when she was a widow.
+She was jealous of Micheline's affections, and each kiss the child gave
+her father seemed to the mother to be robbed from her.  With this fierce
+tenderness, she preferred solitude around this beloved being.
+
+At this time Madame Desvarennes was really in the zenith of womanly
+splendor.  She seemed taller, her figure had straightened, vigorous and
+powerful.  Her gray hair gave her face a majestic appearance.  Always
+surrounded by a court of clients and friends, she seemed like a
+sovereign.  The fortune of the firm was not to be computed.  It was said
+Madame Desvarennes did not know how rich she was.
+
+Jeanne and Micheline grew up amid this colossal prosperity.  The one,
+tall, brown-haired, with blue eyes changing like the sea; the other,
+fragile, fair, with dark dreamy eyes.  Jeanne, proud, capricious, and
+inconstant; Micheline, simple, sweet, and tenacious.  The brunette
+inherited from her reckless father and her fanciful mother a violent and
+passionate nature; the blonde was tractable and good like Michel, but
+resolute and firm like Madame Desvarennes.  These two opposite natures
+were congenial, Micheline sincerely loving Jeanne, and Jeanne feeling the
+necessity of living amicably with Micheline, her mother's idol, but
+inwardly enduring with difficulty the inequalities which began to exhibit
+themselves in the manner with which the intimates of the house treated
+the one and the other.  She found these flatteries wounding, and thought
+Madame Desvarennes's preferences for Micheline unjust.
+
+All these accumulated grievances made Jeanne conceive the wish one
+morning of leaving the house where she had been brought up, and where she
+now felt humiliated.  Pretending to long to go to England to see that
+rich relative of her father, who, knowing her to be in a brilliant
+society, had taken notice of her, she asked Madame Desvarennes to allow
+her to spend a few weeks from home.  She wished to try the ground in
+England, and see what she might expect in the future from her family.
+Madame Desvarennes lent herself to this whim, not guessing the young
+girl's real motive; and Jeanne, well attended, went to her aunt's home in
+England.
+
+Madame Desvarennes, besides, had attained the summit of her hopes, and an
+event had just taken place which preoccupied her.  Micheline, deferring
+to her mother's wishes, had decided to allow herself to be betrothed to
+Pierre Delarue, who had just lost his mother, and whose business improved
+daily.  The young girl, accustomed to treat Pierre like a brother, had
+easily consented to accept him as her future husband.
+
+Jeanne, who had been away for six months, had returned sobered and
+disillusioned about her family.  She had found them kind and affable,
+had received many compliments on her beauty, which was really remarkable,
+but had not met with any encouragement in her desires for independence.
+She came home resolved not to leave until she married.  She arrived in
+the Rue Saint-Dominique at the moment when Pierre Delarue, thirsting with
+ambition, was leaving his betrothed, his relatives, and gay Paris to
+undertake engineering work on the coasts of Algeria and Tunis that would
+raise him above his rivals.  In leaving, the young man did not for a
+moment think that Jeanne was returning from England at the same hour with
+trouble for him in the person of a very handsome cavalier, Prince Serge
+Panine, who had been introduced to her at a ball during the London
+season.  Mademoiselle de Cernay, availing herself of English liberty, was
+returning escorted only by a maid in company with the Prince.  The
+journey had been delightful.  The tete-a-tete travelling had pleased the
+young people, and on leaving the train they had promised to see each
+other again.  Official balls facilitated their meeting; Serge was
+introduced to Madame Desvarennes as being an English friend, and soon
+became the most assiduous partner of Jeanne and Micheline.  It was thus,
+under the most trivial pretext, that the man gained admittance to the
+house where he was to play such an important part.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+THE GALLEY-SLAVE OF PLEASURE
+
+One morning in the month of May, 1879, a young man, elegantly attired,
+alighted from a well-appointed carriage before the door of Madame
+Desvarennes's house.  The young man passed quickly before the porter in
+uniform, decorated with a military medal, stationed near the door.  The
+visitor found himself in an anteroom which communicated with several
+corridors.  A messenger was seated in the depth of a large armchair,
+reading the newspaper, and not even lending an inattentive ear to the
+whispered conversation of a dozen canvassers, who were patiently awaiting
+their turn for gaining a hearing.  On seeing the young man enter by the
+private door, the messenger rose, dropped his newspaper on the armchair,
+hastily raised his velvet skullcap, tried to smile, and made two steps
+forward.
+
+"Good-morning, old Felix," said the young man, in a friendly tone to the
+messenger.  "Is my aunt within?"
+
+"Yes, Monsieur Savinien, Madame Desvarennes is in her office; but she has
+been engaged for more than an hour with the Financial Secretary of the
+War Department."
+
+In uttering these words old Felix put on a mysterious and important air,
+which denoted how serious the discussions going on in the adjoining room
+seemed to his mind.
+
+"You see," continued he, showing Madame Desvarennes's nephew the anteroom
+full of people, "madame has kept all these waiting since this morning,
+and perhaps she won't see them."
+
+"I must see her though," murmured the young man.
+
+He reflected a moment, then added:
+
+"Is Monsieur Marechal in?"
+
+"Yes, sir, certainly.  If you will allow me I will announce you."
+
+"It is unnecessary."
+
+And, stepping forward, he entered the office adjoining that of Madame
+Desvarennes.
+
+Seated at a large table of black wood, covered with bundles of papers and
+notes, a young man was working.  He was thirty years of age, but appeared
+much older.  His prematurely bald forehead, and wrinkled brow, betokened
+a life of severe struggles and privations, or a life of excesses and
+pleasures.  Still those clear and pure eyes were not those of a
+libertine, and the straight nose solidly joined to the face was that of a
+searcher.  Whatever the cause, the man was old before his time.
+
+On hearing the door of his office open, he raised his eyes, put down his
+pen, and was making a movement toward his visitor, when the latter
+interrupted him quickly with these words:
+
+"Don't stir, Marechal, or I shall be off!  I only came in until Aunt
+Desvarennes is at liberty; but if I disturb you I will go and take a
+turn, smoke a cigar, and come back in three quarters of an hour."
+
+"You do not disturb me, Monsieur Savinien; at least not often enough,
+for be it said, without reproaching you, it is more than three months
+since we have seen anything of you.  There, the post is finished.
+I was writing the last addresses."
+
+And taking a heavy bundle of papers off the desk, Marechal showed them to
+Savinien.
+
+"Gracious!  It seems that business is going on well here."
+
+"Better and better."
+
+"You are making mountains of flour."
+
+"Yes; high as Mont Blanc; and then, we now have a fleet."
+
+"What!  a fleet?"  cried Savinien, whose face expressed doubt and
+surprise at the same time.
+
+"Yes, a steam fleet.  Last year Madame Desvarennes was not satisfied with
+the state in which her corn came from the East.  The corn was damaged
+owing to defective stowage; the firm claimed compensation from the
+steamship company.  The claim was only moderately satisfied, Madame
+Desvarennes got vexed, and now we import our own.  We have branches at
+Smyrna and Odessa."
+
+"It is fabulous!  If it goes on, my aunt will have an administration as
+important as that of a European state.  Oh!  you are happy here, you
+people; you are busy.  I amuse myself!  And if you knew how it wearies
+me!  I am withering, consuming myself, I am longing for business."
+
+And saying these words, young Monsieur Desvarennes allowed a sorrowful
+moan to escape him.
+
+"It seems to me," said Marechal, "that it only depends upon yourself to
+do as much and more business than any one?"
+
+"You know well enough that it is not so," sighed Savinien; "my aunt is
+opposed to it."
+
+"What a mistake!"  cried Marechal, quickly.  "I have heard Madame
+Desvarennes say more than twenty times how she regretted your being
+unemployed.  Come into the firm, you will have a good berth in the
+counting-house."
+
+"In the counting-house!"  cried Savinien, bitterly; "there's the sore
+point.  Now look here; my friend, do you think that an organization like
+mine is made to bend to the trivialities of a copying clerk's work?  To
+follow the humdrum of every-day routine?  To blacken paper?  To become a
+servant?--me! with what I have in my brain?"
+
+And, rising abruptly, Savinien began to walk hurriedly up and down the
+room, disdainfully shaking his little head with its low forehead on which
+were plastered a few fair curls (made with curling-irons), with the
+indignant air of an Atlas carrying the world on his shoulders.
+
+"Oh, I know very well what is at the bottom of the business--my aunt is
+jealous of me because I am a man of ideas.  She wishes to be the only one
+of the family who possesses any.  She thinks of binding me down to a
+besotting work," continued he, "but I won't have it.  I know what I want!
+It is independence of thought, bent on the solution of great problems--
+that is, a wide field to apply my discoveries.  But a fixed rule, common
+law, I could not submit to it."
+
+"It is like the examinations," observed Marechal, looking slyly at young
+Desvarennes, who was drawing himself up to his full height; "examinations
+never suited you."
+
+"Never," said Savinien, energetically.  "They wished to get me into the
+Polytechnic School; impossible!  Then the Central School; no better.
+I astonished the examiners by the novelty of my ideas.  They refused me."
+
+"Well, you know," retorted Marechal, "if you began by overthrowing their
+theories--"
+
+"That's it!"  cried Savinien, triumphantly.  "My mind is stronger than I;
+I must let my imagination have free run, and no one will ever know what
+that particular turn of mind has cost me.  Even my family do not think me
+serious.  Aunt Desvarennes has forbidden any kind of enterprise, under
+pretence that I bear her name, and that I might compromise it because I
+have twice failed.  My aunt paid, it is true.  Do you think it is
+generous of her to take advantage of my situation, and prohibit my trying
+to succeed?  Are inventors judged by three or four failures?  If my aunt
+had allowed me I should have astonished the world."
+
+"She feared, above all," said Marechal, simply, "to see you astonishing
+the Tribunal of Commerce."
+
+"Oh!  you, too," moaned Savinien, "are in league with my enemies; you
+make no account of me."
+
+And young Desvarennes sank as if crushed into an armchair and began to
+lament.  He was very unhappy at being misunderstood.  His aunt allowed
+him three thousand francs a month on condition that he would not make use
+of his ten fingers.  Was it moral?  Then he with such exuberant vigor had
+to waste it on pleasure and seeing life to the utmost.  He passed his
+time in theatres, at clubs, restaurants, in boudoirs.  He lost his time,
+his money, his hair, his illusions.  He bemoaned his lot, but continued,
+only to have something to do.  With grim sarcasm he called himself the
+galley-slave of pleasure.  And notwithstanding all these consuming
+excesses, he asserted that he could not render his imagination barren.
+Amid the greatest follies at suppers, during the clinking of glasses; in
+the excitement of the dance-inspirations came to him in flashes, he made
+prodigious discoveries.
+
+And as Marechal ventured a timid "Oh!"  tinged with incredulity, Savinien
+flew into a passion.  Yes; he had invented something astonishing; he saw
+fortune within reach, and he thought the bargain made with his aunt very
+unjust.  Therefore he had come to break it, and to regain his liberty.
+
+Marechal looked at the young man while he was explaining with animation
+his ambitious projects.  He scrutinized that flat forehead within which
+the dandy asserted so many good ideas were hidden.  He measured that slim
+form bent by wild living, and asked himself how that degenerate being
+could struggle against the difficulties of business.  A smile played on
+his lips.  He knew Savinien too well not to be aware that he was a prey
+to one of those attacks of melancholy which seized on him when his funds
+were low.
+
+On these occasions, which occurred frequently, the young man had longings
+for business, which Madame Desvarennes stopped by asking: "How much?"
+Savinien allowed himself to be with difficulty induced to consent to
+renounce the certain profits promised, as he said, by his projected
+enterprise.  At last he would capitulate, and with his pocket well lined,
+nimble and joyful, he returned to his boudoirs, race-courses, fashionable
+restaurants, and became more than ever the galley-slave of pleasure.
+
+"And Pierre?"  asked young Desvarennes, suddenly and quickly changing the
+subject.  "Have you any news of him?"
+
+Marechal became serious.  A cloud seemed to have come across his brow; he
+gravely answered Savinien's question.
+
+Pierre was still in the East.  He was travelling toward Tunis, the coast
+of which he was exploring.  It was a question of the formation of an
+island sea by taking the water through the desert.  It would be a
+colossal undertaking, the results of which would be considerable as
+regarded Algeria.  The climate would be completely changed, and the value
+of the colony would be increased tenfold, because it would become the
+most fertile country in the world.  Pierre had been occupied in this
+undertaking for more than a year with unequalled ardor; he was far from
+his home, his betrothed, seeing only the goal to be attained; turning a
+deaf ear to all that would distract his attention from the great work, to
+the success of which he hoped to contribute gloriously.
+
+"And don't people say," resumed Savinien with an evil smile, "that during
+his absence a dashing young fellow is busy luring his betrothed away from
+him?"
+
+At these words Marechal made a quick movement.
+
+"It is false," he interrupted; "and I do not understand how you, Monsieur
+Desvarennes, should be the bearer of such a tale.  To admit that
+Mademoiselle Micheline could break her word or her engagements is to
+slander her, and if any one other than you--"
+
+"There, there, my dear friend," said Savinien, laughing, "don't get into
+a rage.  What I say to you I would not repeat to the first comer;
+besides, I am only the echo of a rumor that has been going the round
+during the last three weeks.  They even give the name of him who has been
+chosen for the honor and pleasure of such a brilliant conquest.  I mean
+Prince Serge Panine."
+
+"As you have mentioned Prince Panine," replied Marechal, "allow me to
+tell you that he has not put his foot inside Madame Desvarennes's door
+for three weeks.  This is not the way of a man about to marry the
+daughter of the house."
+
+"My dear fellow, I only repeat what I have heard.  As for me, I don't
+know any more.  I have kept out of the way for more than three months.
+And besides, it matters little to me whether Micheline be a commoner or a
+princess, the wife of Delarue or of Panine.  I shall be none the richer
+or the poorer, shall I?  Therefore I need not care.  The dear child will
+certainly have millions enough to marry easily.  And her adopted sister,
+the stately Mademoiselle Jeanne, what has become of her?"
+
+"Ah!  as to Mademoiselle de Cernay, that is another affair," cried
+Marechal.
+
+And as if wishing to divert the conversation in an opposite direction to
+which Savinien had led it a moment before, he spoke readily of Madame
+Desvarennes's adopted daughter.  She had made a lively impression on one
+of the intimate friends of the house--the banker Cayrol, who had offered
+his name and his fortune to the fair Jeanne.
+
+This was a cause of deep amazement to Savinien.  What!  Cayrol!  The
+shrewd close--fisted Auvergnat!  A girl without a fortune!  Cayrol Silex
+as he was called in the commercial world on account of his hardness.
+This living money-bag had a heart then!  It was necessary to believe it
+since both money-bag and heart had been placed at Mademoiselle de
+Cernay's feet.  This strange girl was certainly destined to millions.
+She had just missed being Madame Desvarennes's heiress, and now Cayrol
+had taken it into his head to marry her.
+
+But that was not all.  And when Marechal told Savinien that the fair
+Jeanne flatly refused to become the wife of Cayrol, there was an outburst
+of joyful exclamations.  She refused!  By Jove, she was mad!  An
+unlooked-for marriage--for she had not a penny, and had most extravagant
+notions.  She had been brought up as if she were to live always in velvet
+and silks--to loll in carriages and think only of her pleasure.  What
+reason did she give for refusing him!  None.  Haughtily and disdainfully
+she had declared that she did not love "that man," and that she would not
+marry him.
+
+When Savinien heard these details his rapture increased.  One thing
+especially charmed him: Jeanne's saying "that man," when speaking of
+Cayrol.  A little girl who was called "De Cernay" just as he might call
+himself "Des Batignolles" if he pleased: the natural and unacknowledged
+daughter of a Count and of a shady public singer!  And she refused
+Cayrol, calling him "that man."  It was really funny.  And what did
+worthy Cayrol say about it?
+
+When Marechal declared that the banker had not been damped by this
+discouraging reception, Savinien said it was human nature.  The fair
+Jeanne scorned Cayrol and Cayrol adored her.  He had often seen those
+things happen.  He knew the baggages so well!  Nobody knew more of women
+than he did.  He had known some more difficult to manage than proud
+Mademoiselle Jeanne.
+
+An old leaven of hatred had festered in Savinien's heart against Jeanne
+since the time when the younger branch of the Desvarennes had reason to
+fear that the superb heritage was going to the adopted daughter.
+Savinien had lost the fear, but had kept up the animosity.  And
+everything that could happen to Jeanne of a vexing or painful nature
+would be witnessed by him with pleasure.
+
+He was about to encourage Marechal to continue his revelations, and had
+risen and was leaning on the desk.  With his face excited and eager, he
+was preparing his question, when, through the door which led to Madame
+Desvarennes's office, a confused murmur of voices was heard.  At the same
+time the door was half opened, held by a woman's hand, square, with short
+fingers, a firm-willed and energetic hand.  At the same time, the last
+words exchanged between Madame Desvarennes and the Financial Secretary of
+the War Office were distinctly audible.  Madame Desvarennes was speaking,
+and her voice sounded clear and plain; a little raised and vibrating.
+There seemed a shade of anger in its tone.
+
+"My dear sir, you will tell the Minister that does not suit me.  It is
+not the custom of the house.  For thirty-five years I have conducted
+business thus, and I have always found it answer.  I wish you good-
+morning."
+
+The door of the office facing that which Madame Desvarennes held closed,
+and a light step glided along the corridor.  It was the Financial
+Secretary's.  The mistress appeared.
+
+Marechal rose hastily.  As to Savinien, all his resolution seemed to have
+vanished at the sound of his aunt's voice, for he had rapidly gained a
+corner of the room, and seated himself on a leather-covered sofa, hidden
+behind an armchair, where he remained perfectly quiet.
+
+"Do you understand that, Marechal?"  said dame Desvarennes; "they want to
+place a resident agent at the mill on pretext of checking things.  They
+say that all military contractors are obliged to submit to it.  My word,
+do they take us for thieves, the rascals?  It is the first time that
+people have seemed to doubt me.  And it has enraged me.  I have been
+arguing for a whole hour with the man they sent me.  I said to him, 'My
+dear sir, you may either take it or leave it.  Let us start from this
+point: I can do without you and you cannot do without me.  If you don't
+buy my flour, somebody else will.  I am not at all troubled about it.
+But as to having any one here who would be as much master as myself, or
+perhaps more, never!  I am too old to change my customs.'  Thereupon the
+Financial Secretary left.  There!  And, besides, they change their
+Ministry every fortnight.  One would never know with whom one had to
+deal.  Thank you, no."
+
+While talking thus with Marechal, Madame Desvarennes was walking about
+the office.  She was still the same woman with the broad prominent
+forehead.  Her hair, which she wore in smooth plaits, had become gray,
+but the sparkle of her dark eyes only seemed the brighter from this.  She
+had preserved her splendid teeth, and her smile had remained young and
+charming.  She spoke with animation, as usual, and with the gestures of a
+man.  She placed herself before her secretary, seeming to appeal to him
+as a witness of her being in the right.  During the hour with the
+official personage she had been obliged to contain herself.  She
+unburdened herself to Marechal, saying just what she thought.
+
+But all at once she perceived Savinien, who was waiting to show himself
+now that she had finished.  The mistress turned sharply to the young man,
+and frowned slightly:
+
+"Hallo!  you are there, eh?  How is it that you could leave your fair
+friends?"
+
+"But, aunt, I came to pay you my respects."
+
+"No nonsense now; I've no time," interrupted the mistress.  "What do you
+want?"
+
+Savinien, disconcerted by this rude reception, blinked his eyes, as if
+seeking some form to give his request; then, making up his mind, he said:
+
+"I came to see you on business."
+
+"You on business?"  replied Madame Desvarennes, with a shade of
+astonishment and irony.
+
+"Yes, aunt, on business," declared Savinien, looking down as if he
+expected a rebuff.
+
+"Oh, oh, oh!"  said Madame Desvarennes, "you know our agreement; I give
+you an allowance--"
+
+"I renounce my income," interrupted Savinien, quickly, "I wish to take
+back my independence.  The transfer I made has already cost me too dear.
+It's a fool's bargain.  The enterprise which I am going to launch is
+superb, and must realize immense profits.  I shall certainly not abandon
+it."
+
+While speaking, Savinien had become animated and had regained his self-
+possession.  He believed in his scheme, and was ready to pledge his
+future.  He argued that his aunt could not blame him for giving proof of
+his energy and daring, and he discoursed in bombastic style.
+
+"That's enough!"  cried Madame Desvarennes, interrupting her nephew's
+oration.  "I am very fond of mills, but not word-mills.  You are talking
+too much about it to be sincere.  So many words can only serve to
+disguise the nullity of your projects.  You want to embark in
+speculation?  With what money?"
+
+"I contribute the scheme and some capitalists will advance the money to
+start with; we shall then issue shares!"
+
+"Never in this life!  I oppose it.  You!  With a responsibility.  You!
+Directing an undertaking.  You would only commit absurdities.  In fact,
+you want to sell an idea, eh?  Well, I will buy it."
+
+"It is not only the money I want," said Savinien, with an indignant air,
+"it is confidence in my ideas, it is enthusiasm on the part of my
+shareholders, it is success.  You don't believe in my ideas, aunt!"
+
+"What does it matter to you, if I buy them from you?  It seems to me a
+pretty good proof of confidence.  Is that settled?"
+
+"Ah, aunt, you are implacable!"  groaned Savinien.  "When you have laid
+your hand upon any one, it is all over.  Adieu, independence; one must
+obey you.  Nevertheless, it was a vast and beautiful conception."
+
+"Very well.  Marechal, see that my nephew has ten thousand francs.  And
+you, Savinien, remember that I see no more of you."
+
+"Until the money is spent!"  murmured Marechal, in the ear of Madame
+Desvarennes's nephew.
+
+And taking him by the arm he was leading him toward the safe when the
+mistress turned to Savinien and said:
+
+"By the way, what is your invention?"
+
+"Aunt, it is a threshing machine," answered the young man, gravely.
+
+"Rather a machine for coining money," said the incorrigible Marechal, in
+an undertone.
+
+"Well; bring me your plans," resumed Madame Desvarennes, after having
+reflected a moment.  "Perchance you may have hit upon something."
+
+The mistress had been generous, and now the woman of business reasserted
+herself and she thought of reaping the benefit.
+
+Savinien seemed very confused at this demand, and as his aunt gave him an
+interrogative look, he confessed:
+
+"There are no drawings made as yet."
+
+"No drawings as yet?"  cried the mistress.  "Where then is your
+invention?"
+
+"It is here," replied Savinien, and with an inspired gesture he struck
+his narrow forehead.
+
+Madame Desvarennes and Marechal could not resist breaking out into a
+laugh.
+
+"And you were already talking of issuing shares?"  said the mistress.
+"Do you think people would have paid their money with your brain as sole
+guarantee?  You!  Get along; I am the only one to make bargains like
+that, and you are the only one with whom I make them.  Go, Marechal, give
+him his money; I won't gainsay it.  But you are a trickster, as usual!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+PIERRE RETURNS
+
+By a wave of her hand she dismissed Savinien, who, abashed, went out with
+Marechal.  Left alone, she seated herself at her secretary's desk, and
+taking the pile of letters she signed them.  The pen flew in her fingers,
+and on the paper was displayed her name, written in large letters in a
+man's handwriting.
+
+She had been occupied thus for about a quarter of an hour when Marechal
+reappeared.  Behind him came a stout thickset man of heavy build, and
+gorgeously dressed.  His face, surrounded by a bristly dark brown beard,
+and his eyes overhung by bushy eyebrows, gave him, at the first glance, a
+harsh appearance.  But his mouth promptly banished this impression.  His
+thick and sensual lips betrayed voluptuous tastes.  A disciple of Lavater
+or Gall would have found the bump of amativeness largely developed.
+
+Marechal stepped aside to allow him to pass.
+
+"Good-morning, mistress," said he familiarly, approaching Madame
+Desvarennes.
+
+The mistress raised her head quickly, and said:
+
+"Ah!  it's you, Cayrol!  That's capital!  I was just going to send for
+you."
+
+Jean Cayrol, a native of Cantal, had been brought up amid the wild
+mountains of Auvergne.  His father was a small farmer in the neighborhood
+of Saint-Flour, scraping a miserable pittance from the ground for the
+maintenance of his family.  From the age of eight years Cayrol had been a
+shepherd-boy.  Alone in the quiet and remote country, the child had given
+way to ambitious dreams.  He was very intelligent, and felt that he was
+born to another sphere than that of farming.
+
+Thus, at the first opportunity which had occurred to take him into a
+town, he was found ready.  He went as servant to a banker at Brioude.
+There, in the service of this comparatively luxurious house, he got
+smoothed down a little, and lost some of his clumsy loutishness.  Strong
+as an ox, he did the work of two men, and at night, when in his garret,
+fell asleep learning to read.  He was seized by the ambition to get on.
+No pains were to be spared to gain his goal.
+
+His master having been elected a member of the Chamber of Deputies,
+Cayrol accompanied him to Paris.  Life in the capital finished the
+turmoil of Cayrol's brain.  Seeing the prodigious activity of the great
+city on whose pavements fortunes sprang up in a day like mushrooms, the
+Auvergnat felt his moral strength equal to the occasion, and leaving his
+master, he became clerk to a merchant in the Rue du Sentier.
+
+There, for four years, he studied commerce, and gained much experience.
+He soon learned that it was only in financial transactions that large
+fortunes were to be rapidly made.  He left the Rue du Sentier, and found
+a place at a stock-broker's.  His keen scent for speculation served him
+admirably.  After the lapse of a few years he had charge of the business.
+His position was getting better; he was making fifteen thousand francs
+per annum, but that was nothing compared to his dreams.  He was then
+twenty-eight years of age.  He felt ready to do anything to succeed,
+except something unhandsome, for this lover of money would have died
+rather than enrich himself by dishonest means.
+
+It was at this time that his lucky star threw him in Madame Desvarennes's
+way.  The mistress, understanding men, guessed Cayrol's worth quickly.
+She was seeking a banker who would devote himself to her interests.  She
+watched the young man narrowly for some time; then, sure she was not
+mistaken as to his capacity, she bluntly proposed to give him money to
+start a business.  Cayrol, who had already saved eighty thousand francs,
+received twelve hundred thousand from Madame Desvarennes, and settled in
+the Rue Taitbout, two steps from the house of Rothschild.
+
+Madame Desvarennes had made a lucky hit in choosing Cayrol as her
+confidential agent.  This short, thickset Auvergnat was a master of
+finance, and in a few years had raised the house to an unexpected degree
+of prosperity.  Madame Desvarennes had drawn considerable sums as
+interest on the money lent, and the banker's fortune was already
+estimated at several millions.  Was it the happy influence of Madame
+Desvarennes that changed everything she touched into gold, or were
+Cayrol's capacities really extraordinary?  The results were there and
+that was sufficient.  They did not trouble themselves over and above
+that.
+
+The banker had naturally become one of the intimates of Madame
+Desvarennes's house.  For a long time he saw Jeanne without particularly
+noticing her.  This young girl had not struck his fancy.  It was one
+night at a ball, on seeing her dancing with Prince Panine, that he
+perceived that she was marvellously engaging.  His eyes were attracted by
+an invincible power and followed her graceful figure whirling through the
+waltz.  He secretly envied the brilliant cavalier who was holding this
+adorable creature in his arms, who was bending over her bare shoulders,
+and whose breath lightly touched her hair.  He longed madly for Jeanne,
+and from that moment thought only of her.
+
+The Prince was then very friendly with Mademoiselle de Cernay; he
+overwhelmed her with kind attentions.  Cayrol watched him to see if he
+spoke to her of love, but Panine was a past master in these drawing-room
+skirmishes, and the banker got nothing for his pains.  That Cayrol was
+tenacious has been proved.  He became intimate with the Prince.  He
+tendered him such little services as create intimacy, and when he was
+sure of not being repulsed with haughtiness, he questioned Serge.  Did he
+love Mademoiselle de Cernay?  This question, asked in a trembling voice
+and with a constrained smile, found the Prince quite calm.  He answered
+lightly that Mademoiselle de Cernay was a very agreeable partner, but
+that he had never dreamed of offering her his homage.  He had other
+projects in his head.  Cayrol pressed the Prince's hand violently, made a
+thousand protestations of devotedness, and finally obtained his complete
+confidence.
+
+Serge loved Mademoiselle Desvarennes, and it was to become intimate with
+her that he had so eagerly sought her friend's company.  Cayrol, in
+learning the Prince's secret, resumed his usual reserved manner.  He knew
+that Micheline was engaged to Pierre Delarue, but still, women were so
+whimsical!  Who could tell?  Perhaps Mademoiselle Desvarennes had looked
+favorably upon the handsome Serge.
+
+He was really admirable to view, this Panine, with his blue eyes, pure as
+a maiden's, and his long fair mustache falling on each side of his rosy
+mouth.  He had a truly royal bearing, and was descended from an ancient
+aristocratic race; he had a charming hand and an arched foot, enough to
+make a woman envious.  Soft and insinuating with his tender voice and
+sweet Sclavonic accent, he was no ordinary man, but one usually creating
+a great impression wherever he went.
+
+His story was well known in Paris.  He was born in the province of Posen,
+so violently seized on by Prussia, that octopus of Europe.  Serge's
+father had been killed during the insurrection of 1848, and he, when a
+year old, was brought by his uncle, Thaddeus Panine, to France, and was
+educated at the College Rollin, where he had not acquired over much
+learning.
+
+In 1866, at the moment when war broke out between Prussia and Austria,
+Serge was eighteen years old.  By his uncle's orders he had left Paris,
+and had entered himself for the campaign in an Austrian cavalry regiment.
+All who bore the name of Panine, and had strength to hold a sword or
+carry a gun, had risen to fight the oppressor of Poland.  Serge, during
+this short and bloody struggle, showed prodigies of valor.  On the night
+of Sadowa, out of seven bearing the name of Panine, who had served
+against Prussia, five were dead, one was wounded; Serge alone was
+untouched, though red with the blood of his uncle Thaddeus, who was
+killed by the bursting of a shell.  All these Panines, living or dead,
+had gained honors.  When they were spoken of before Austrians or Poles,
+they were called heroes.
+
+Such a man was a dangerous companion for a young, simple, and artless
+girl like Micheline.  His adventures were bound to please her
+imagination, and his beauty sure to charm her eyes.  Cayrol was a prudent
+man; he watched, and it was not long before he perceived that Micheline
+treated the Prince with marked favor.  The quiet young girl became
+animated when Serge was there.  Was there love in this transformation?
+Cayrol did not hesitate.  He guessed at once that the future would be
+Panine's, and that the maintenance of his own influence in the house of
+Desvarennes depended on the attitude which he was about to take.  He
+passed over to the side of the newcomer with arms and baggage, and placed
+himself entirely at his disposal.
+
+It was he who three weeks before, in the name of Panine, had made
+overtures to Madame Desvarennes. The errand had been difficult, and the
+banker had turned his tongue several times in his mouth before speaking.
+Still, Cayrol could overcome all difficulties. He was able to explain the
+object of his mission without Madame flying into a passion.  But, the
+explanation over, there was a terrible scene.  He witnessed one of the
+most awful bursts of rage that it was possible to expect from a violent
+woman.  The mistress treated the friend of the family as one would not
+have dared to treat a petty commercial traveller who came to a private
+house to offer his wares.  She showed him the door, and desired him not
+to darken the threshold again.
+
+But if Cayrol was resolute he was equally patient.  He listened without
+saying a word to the reproaches of Madame Desvarennes, who was
+exasperated that a candidate should be set up in opposition to the son-
+in-law of her choosing.  He did not go, and when Madame Desvarennes was a
+little calmed by the letting out of her indignation, he argued with her.
+The mistress was too hasty about the business; it was no use deciding
+without reflecting.  Certainly, nobody esteemed Pierre Delarue more than
+he did; but it was necessary to know whether Micheline loved him.  A
+childish affection was not love, and Prince Panine thought he might hope
+that Mademoiselle Desvarennes----
+
+The mistress did not allow Cayrol to finish his sentence; she rang the
+bell and asked for her daughter.  This time, Cayrol prudently took the
+opportunity of disappearing.  He had opened fire; it was for Micheline to
+decide the result of the battle.  The banker awaited the issue of the
+interview between mother and daughter in the next room.  Through the door
+he heard the irritated tones of Madame Desvarennes, to which Micheline
+answered softly and slowly.  The mother threatened and stormed.  Coldly
+and quietly the daughter received the attack.  The tussle lasted about an
+hour, when the door reopened and Madame Desvarennes appeared, pale and
+still trembling, but calmed.  Micheline, wiping her beautiful eyes, still
+wet with tears, regained her apartment.
+
+"Well," said Cayrol timidly, seeing the mistress standing silent and
+absorbed before him; "I see with pleasure that you are less agitated.
+Did Mademoiselle Micheline give you good reasons?"
+
+"Good reasons!"  cried Madame Desvarennes with a violent gesture, last
+flash of the late storm.  "She cried, that's all.  And you know when she
+cries I no longer know what I do or say!  She breaks my heart with her
+tears.  And she knows it.  Ah! it is a great misfortune to love children
+too much!"
+
+This energetic woman was conquered, and yet understood that she was wrong
+to allow herself to be conquered.  She fell into a deep reverie, and
+forgot that Cayrol was present.  She thought of the future which she had
+planned for Micheline, and which the latter carelessly destroyed in an
+instant.
+
+Pierre, now an orphan, would have been a real son to the mistress.
+He would have lived in her house, and have surrounded her old age with
+care and affection.  And then, he was so full of ability that he could
+not help attaining a brilliant position.  She would have helped him,
+and would have rejoiced in his success.  And all this scaffolding was
+overturned because this Panine had crossed Micheline's path.  A foreign
+adventurer, prince perhaps, but who could tell?  Lies are easily told
+when the proofs of the lie have to be sought beyond the frontiers.
+And it was her daughter who was going to fall in love with an insipid fop
+who only coveted her millions.  That she should see such a man enter her
+family, steal Micheline's love from her, and rummage her strongbox!  In a
+moment she vowed mortal hatred against Panine, and resolved to do all she
+could to prevent the longed-for marriage with her daughter.
+
+She was disturbed in her meditation by Cayrol's voice.  He wished to take
+an answer to the Prince.  What must he say to him?
+
+"You will let him know," said Madame Desvarennes, "that he must refrain
+from seeking opportunities of meeting my daughter.  If he be a gentleman,
+he will understand that his presence, even in Paris, is disagreeable to
+me.  I ask him to go away for three weeks.  After that time he may come
+back, and I agree to give him an answer."
+
+"You promise me that you will not be vexed with me for having undertaken
+this errand?"
+
+"I promise on one condition.  It is, that not a word which has passed
+here this morning shall be repeated to any one.  Nobody must suspect the
+proposal that you have just made to me."
+
+Cayrol swore to hold his tongue, and he kept his word.  Prince Panine
+left that same night for England.
+
+Madame Desvarennes was a woman of quick resolution.  She took a sheet of
+paper, a pen, and in her large handwriting wrote the following lines
+addressed to Pierre:
+
+"If you do not wish to find Micheline married on your return, come back
+without a moment's delay."
+
+She sent this ominous letter to the young man, who was then in Tripoli.
+That done, she returned to her business as if nothing had happened.  Her
+placid face did not once betray the anguish of her heart during those
+three weeks.
+
+The term fixed by Madame Desvarennes with the Prince had expired that
+morning.  And the severity with which the mistress had received the
+Minister of War's Financial Secretary was a symptom of the agitation in
+which the necessity of coming to a decision placed Micheline's mother.
+Every morning for the last week she had expected Pierre to arrive.  What
+with having to give an answer to the Prince as she had promised, and the
+longing to see him whom she loved as a son, she felt sick at heart and
+utterly cast down.  She thought of asking the Prince for a respite.  It
+was for that reason she was glad to see Cayrol.
+
+The latter, therefore, had arrived opportunely.  He looked as if he
+brought startling news.  By a glance he drew Madame Desvarennes's
+attention to Marechal and seemed to say:
+
+"I must be alone with you; send him away."
+
+The mistress understood, and with a decided gesture said:
+
+"You can speak before Marechal; he knows all my affairs as well as I do
+myself."
+
+"Even the matter that brings me here?"  replied Cayrol, with surprise.
+
+"Even that.  It was necessary for me to have some one to whom I could
+speak, or else my heart would have burst!  Come, do your errand.  The
+Prince?"
+
+"A lot it has to do with the Prince," exclaimed Cayrol, in a huff.
+"Pierre has arrived!"
+
+Madame Desvarennes rose abruptly.  A rush of blood rose to her face, her
+eyes brightened, and her lips opened with a smile.
+
+"At last!"  she cried.  "But where is he?  How did you hear of his
+return?"
+
+"Ah!  faith, it was just by chance.  I was shooting yesterday at
+Fontainebleau, and I returned this morning by the express.  On arriving
+at Paris, I alighted on the platform, and there I found myself face to
+face with a tall young man with a long beard, who, seeing me pass, called
+out, 'Ah, Cayrol!' It was Pierre.  I only recognized him by his voice.
+He is much changed; with his beard, and his complexion bronzed like an
+African."
+
+"What did he say to you?"
+
+"Nothing.  He pressed my hand.  He looked at me for a moment with
+glistening eyes.  There was something on his lips which he longed to ask,
+yet did not; but I guessed it.  I was afraid of giving way to tenderness,
+that might have ended in my saying something foolish, so I left him."
+
+"How long ago is that?"
+
+"About an hour ago.  I only just ran home before coming on here.  There I
+found Panine waiting for me.  He insisted upon accompanying me.  I hope
+you won't blame him?"
+
+Madame Desvarennes frowned.
+
+"I will not see him just now," she said, looking at Cayrol with a
+resolute air.  "Where did you leave him?"
+
+"In the garden, where I found the young ladies."
+
+As if to verify the banker's words, a merry peal of laughter was heard
+through the half-open window.  It was Micheline, who, with returning
+gayety, was making up for the three weeks' sadness she had experienced
+during Panine's absence.
+
+Madame Desvarennes went to the window, and looked into the garden.
+Seated on the lawn, in large bamboo chairs, the young girls were
+listening to a story the Prince was telling.  The morning was bright and
+mild; the sun shining through Micheline's silk sunshade lit up her fair
+head.  Before her, Serge, bending his tall figure, was speaking with
+animation.  Micheline's eyes were softly fixed on him.  Reclining in her
+armchair, she allowed herself to be carried away with his conversation,
+and thoroughly enjoyed his society, of which she had been deprived for
+the last three weeks.  Beside her, Jeanne, silently watching the Prince,
+was mechanically nibbling, with her white teeth, a bunch of carnations
+which she held in her hands.  A painful thought contracted Mademoiselle
+de Cernay's brow, and her pale lips on the red flowers seemed to be
+drinking blood.
+
+The mistress slowly turned away from this scene.  A shadow had crossed
+her brow, which had, for a moment, become serene again at the
+announcement of Pierre's arrival.  She remained silent for a little
+while, as if considering; then coming to a resolution, and turning to
+Cayrol, she said:
+
+"Where is Pierre staying?"
+
+"At the Hotel du Louvre," replied the banker.
+
+"Well, I'm going there."
+
+Madame Desvarennes rang the bell violently.
+
+"My bonnet, my cloak, and the carriage," she said, and with a friendly
+nod to the two men, she went out quickly.
+
+Micheline was still laughing in the garden.  Marechal and Cayrol looked
+at each other.  Cayrol was the first to speak.
+
+"The mistress told you all about the matter then?  How is it you never
+spoke to me about it?"
+
+"Should I have been worthy of Madame Desvarennes's confidence had I
+spoken of what she wished to keep secret?"
+
+"To me?"
+
+"Especially to you.  The attitude which you have taken forbade my
+speaking.  You favor Prince Panine?"
+
+"And you; you are on Pierre Delarue's side?"
+
+"I take no side.  I am only a subordinate, you know; I do not count."
+
+"Do not attempt to deceive me.  Your influence over the mistress is
+great.  The confidence she has in you is a conclusive proof.  Important
+events are about to take place here.  Pierre has certainly returned to
+claim his right as betrothed, and Mademoiselle Micheline loves Prince
+Serge.  Out of this a serious conflict will take place in the house.
+There will be a battle.  And as the parties in question are about equal
+in strength, I am seeking adherents for my candidate.  I own, in all
+humility, I am on love's side.  The Prince is beloved by Mademoiselle
+Desvarennes, and I serve him.  Micheline will be grateful, and will do me
+a turn with Mademoiselle de Cernay.  As to you, let me give you a little
+advice.  If Madame Desvarennes consults you, speak well of Panine.  When
+the Prince is master here, your position will be all the better for it."
+
+Marechal had listened to Cayrol without anything betraying the impression
+his words created.  He looked at the banker in a peculiar manner, which
+caused him to feel uncomfortable, and made him lower his eyes.
+
+"Perhaps you do not know, Monsieur Cayrol," said the secretary, after a
+moment's pause, "how I entered this firm.  It is as well in that case to
+inform you.  Four years ago, I was most wretched.  After having sought
+fortune ten times without success, I felt myself giving way morally and
+physically.  There are some beings gifted with energy, who can surmount
+all the difficulties of life.  You are one of those.  As for me, the
+struggle exhausted my strength, and I came to grief.  It would take too
+long to enumerate all the ways of earning my living I tried.  Few even
+fed me; and I was thinking of putting an end to my miserable existence
+when I met Pierre.  We had been at college together.  I went toward him;
+he was on the quay.  I dared to stop him.  At first he did not recognize
+me, I was so haggard, so wretched-looking!  But when I spoke, he cried,
+'Marechal!' and, without blushing at my tatters, put his arms round my
+neck.  We were opposite the Belle Jardiniere, the clothiers; he wanted to
+rig me out.  I remember as if it were but yesterday I said, 'No, nothing,
+only find me work!'--'Work, my poor fellow,' he answered, 'but just look
+at yourself; who would have confidence to give you any?  You look like a
+tramp, and when you accosted me a little while ago, I asked myself if you
+were not about to steal my watch!'  And he laughed gayly, happy at having
+found me again, and thinking that he might be of use to me.  Seeing that
+I would not go into the shop, he took off his overcoat, and put it on my
+back to cover my tattered clothes, and there and then he took me to
+Madame Desvarennes.  Two days later I entered the office.  You see the
+position I hold, and I owe it to Pierre.  He has been more than a friend
+to me--a brother.  Come!  after that, tell me what you would think of me
+if I did what you have just asked me?"
+
+Cayrol was confused; he twisted his bristly beard with his fingers.
+
+"Faith, I do not say that your scruples are not right; but, between
+ourselves, every step that is taken against the Prince will count for
+naught.  He will marry Mademoiselle Desvarennes."
+
+"It is possible.  In that case, I shall be here to console Pierre and
+sympathize with him."
+
+"And in the mean time you are going to do all you can in his favor?"
+
+"I have already had the honor of telling you that I cannot do anything."
+
+"Well, well.  One knows what talking means, and you will not change my
+idea of your importance.  You take the weaker side then; that's superb!"
+
+"It is but strictly honest," said Marechal.  "It is true that that
+quality has become very rare!"
+
+Cayrol wheeled round on his heels.  He took a few steps toward the door,
+then, returning to Marechal, held out his hand:
+
+"Without a grudge, eh?"
+
+The secretary allowed his hand to be shaken without answering, and the
+banker went out, saying to himself:
+
+"He is without a sou and has prejudices!  There's a lad without a
+future."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+THE RIVALS
+
+On reaching Paris, Pierre Delarue experienced a strange feeling.  In his
+feverish haste he longed for the swiftness of electricity to bring him
+near Micheline.  As soon as he arrived in Paris, he regretted having
+travelled so fast.  He longed to meet his betrothed, yet feared to know
+his fate.
+
+He had a sort of presentiment that his reception would destroy his hopes.
+And the more he tried to banish these thoughts, the more forcibly they
+returned.  The thought that Micheline had forgotten her promise made the
+blood rush to his face.
+
+Madame Desvarennes's short letter suggested it.  That his betrothed was
+lost to him he understood, but he would not admit it.  How was it
+possible that Micheline should forget him?  All his childhood passed
+before his mind.  He remembered the sweet and artless evidences of
+affection which the young girl had given him.  And yet she no longer
+loved him!  It was her own mother who said so.  After that could he still
+hope?
+
+A prey to this deep trouble, Pierre entered Paris.  On finding himself
+face to face with Cayrol, the young man's first idea was, as Cayrol had
+guessed, to cry out, "What's going on?  Is all lost to me?"  A sort of
+anxious modesty kept back the words on his lips.  He would not admit that
+he doubted.  And, then, Cayrol would only have needed to answer that all
+was over, and that he could put on mourning for his love.  He turned
+around, and went out.
+
+The tumult of Paris surprised and stunned him.  After spending a year in
+the peaceful solitudes of Africa, to find himself amid the cries of
+street-sellers, the rolling of carriages, and the incessant movement of
+the great city, was too great a contrast to him.  Pierre was overcome by
+languor; his head seemed too heavy for his body to carry; he mechanically
+entered a cab which conveyed him to the Hotel du Louvre.  Through the
+window, against the glass of which he tried to cool his heated forehead,
+he saw pass in procession before his eyes, the Column of July, the church
+of St. Paul, the Hotel de Ville in ruins, and the colonnade of the
+Louvre.
+
+An absurd idea took possession of him.  He remembered that during the
+Commune he was nearly killed in the Rue Saint-Antoine by the explosion of
+a shell, thrown by the insurgents from the heights of Pere-Lachaise.
+He thought that had he died then, Micheline would have wept for him.
+Then, as in a nightmare, it seemed to him that this hypothesis was
+realized.  He saw the church hung with black, he heard the funeral
+chants.  A catafalque contained his coffin, and slowly his betrothed
+came, with a trembling hand, to throw holy water on the cloth which
+covered the bier.  And a voice said within him:
+
+"You are dead, since Micheline is about to marry another."
+
+He made an effort to banish this importunate idea.  He could not succeed.
+Thoughts flew through his brain with fearful rapidity.  He thought he was
+beginning to be seized with brain fever.  And this dismal ceremony kept
+coming before him with the same chants, the same words repeated, and the
+same faces appearing.  The houses seemed to fly before his vacant eyes.
+To stop this nightmare he tried to count the gas-lamps: one, two, three,
+four, five--but the same thought interrupted his calculation:
+
+"You are dead, since your betrothed is about to marry another."
+
+He was afraid he was going mad.  A sharp pain shot across his forehead
+just above the right eyebrow.  In the old days he had felt the same pain
+when he had overworked himself in preparing for his examinations at the
+Polytechnic School.  With a bitter smile he asked himself if one of the
+aching vessels in his brain was about to burst?
+
+The sudden stoppage of the cab freed him from this torture.  The hotel
+porter opened the door.  Pierre stepped out mechanically.  Without
+speaking a word he followed a waiter, who showed him to a room on the
+second floor.  Left alone, he sat down.  This room, with its commonplace
+furniture, chilled him.  He saw in it a type of his future life: lonely
+and desolate.  Formerly, when he used to come to Paris, he stayed with
+Madame Desvarennes, where he had the comforts of home, and every one
+looked on him affectionately.
+
+Here, at the hotel, orders were obeyed with politeness at so much a day.
+Would it always be thus in future?
+
+This painful impression dissipated his weakness as by enchantment.  He so
+bitterly regretted the sweets of the past, that he resolved to struggle
+to secure them for the future.  He dressed himself quickly, and removed
+all the traces of his journey; then, his mind made up, he jumped into a
+cab, and drove to Madame Desvarennes's.  All indecision had left him.
+His fears now seemed contemptible.  He must defend himself.  It was a
+question of his happiness.
+
+At the Place de la Concorde a carriage passed his cab.  He recognized the
+livery of Madame Desvarennes's coachman and leant forward.  The mistress
+did not see him.  He was about to stop the cab and tell his driver to
+follow her carriage when a sudden thought decided him to go on.  It was
+Micheline he wanted to see.  His future destiny depended on her.  Madame
+Desvarennes had made him clearly understand that by calling for his help
+in her fatal letter.  He went on his way, and in a few minutes arrived at
+the mansion in the Rue Saint-Dominique.
+
+Micheline and Jeanne were still in the garden, seated in the same place
+on the lawn.  Cayrol had joined Serge.  Both, profiting by the lovely
+morning, were enjoying the society of their beloved ones.  A quick step
+on the gravel walk attracted their attention.  In the sunlight a young
+man, whom neither Jeanne nor Micheline recognized, was advancing.  When
+about two yards distant from the group he slowly raised his hat.
+
+Seeing the constrained and astonished manner of the young girls, a sad
+smile played on his lips, then he said, softly:
+
+"Am I then so changed that I must tell you my name?"
+
+At these words Micheline jumped up, she became as white as her collar,
+and trembling, with sobs rising to her lips, stood silent and petrified
+before Pierre.  She could not speak, but her eyes were eagerly fixed on
+the young man.  It was he, the companion of her youth, so changed that
+she had not recognized him; worn by hard work, perhaps by anxieties,
+bronzed--and with his face hidden by a black beard which gave him a manly
+and energetic appearance.  It was certainly he, with a thin red ribbon at
+his button-hole, which he had not when he went away, and which showed the
+importance of the works he had executed and of great perils he had faced.
+Pierre, trembling and motionless, was silent; the sound of his voice
+choked with emotion had frightened him.  He had expected a cold
+reception, but this scared look, which resembled terror, was beyond all
+he had pictured.  Serge wondered and watched.
+
+Jeanne broke the icy silence.  She went up to Pierre, and presented her
+forehead.
+
+"Well," she said, "don't you kiss your friends?"
+
+She smiled affectionately on him.  Two grateful tears sparkled in the
+young man's eyes, and fell on Mademoiselle de Cernay's hair.  Micheline,
+led away by the example and without quite knowing what she was doing,
+found herself in Pierre's arms.  The situation was becoming singularly
+perplexing to Serge.  Cayrol, who had not lost his presence of mind,
+understood it, and turning toward the Prince, said:
+
+"Monsieur Pierre Delarue: an old friend and companion of Mademoiselle
+Desvarennes's; almost a brother to her," thus explaining in one word all
+that could appear unusual in such a scene of tenderness.
+
+Then, addressing Pierre, he simply added--"Prince Panine."
+
+The two men looked at each other.  Serge, with haughty curiosity; Pierre,
+with inexpressible rage.  In a moment, he guessed that the tall, handsome
+man beside his betrothed was his rival.  If looks could kill, the Prince
+would have fallen down dead.  Panine did not deign to notice the hatred
+which glistened in the eyes of the newcomer.  He turned toward Micheline
+with exquisite grace and said:
+
+"Your mother receives her friends this evening, I think, Mademoiselle; I
+shall have the honor of paying my respects to her."
+
+And taking leave of Jeanne with a smile, and of Pierre with a courteous
+bow, he left, accompanied by Cayrol.
+
+Serge's departure was a relief to Micheline.  Between these two men to
+whom she belonged, to the one by a promise, to the other by an avowal,
+she felt ashamed.  Left alone with Pierre she recovered her self-
+possession, and felt full of pity for the poor fellow threatened with
+such cruel deception.  She went tenderly to him, with her loving eyes of
+old, and pressed his hand:
+
+"I am very glad to see you again, my dear Pierre; and my mother will be
+delighted.  We were very anxious about you.  You have not written to us
+for some months."
+
+Pierre tried to joke: "The post does not leave very often in the desert.
+I wrote whenever I had an opportunity."
+
+"Is it so very pleasant in Africa that you could not tear yourself away a
+whole year?"
+
+"I had to take another journey on the coast of Tripoli to finish my
+labors.  I was interested in my work, and anxious not to lose the result
+of so much effort, and I think I have succeeded--at least in--the opinion
+of my employers," said the young man, with a ghastly smile.
+
+"My dear Pierre, you come in time from the land of the sphinx,"
+interrupted Jeanne gravely, and glancing intently at Micheline.
+"There is here, I assure you, a difficult enigma to solve."
+
+"What is it?"
+
+"That which is written in this heart," she replied, lightly touching her
+companion's breast.
+
+"From childhood I have always read it as easily as a book," said Pierre,
+with tremulous voice, turning toward the amazed Micheline.
+
+Mademoiselle de Cernay tossed her head.
+
+"Who knows?  Perhaps her disposition has changed during your absence;"
+and nodding pleasantly, she went toward the house.
+
+Pierre followed her for a moment with his eyes, then, turning toward his
+betrothed, said:
+
+"Micheline, shall I tell you your secret?  You no longer love me."
+
+The young girl started.  The attack was direct.  She must at once give an
+explanation.  She had often thought of what she would say when Pierre
+came back to her.  The day had arrived unexpectedly.  And the answers she
+had prepared had fled.  The truth appeared harsh and cold.  She
+understood that the change in her was treachery, of which Pierre was the
+innocent victim; and feeling herself to blame, she waited tremblingly the
+explosion of this loyal heart so cruelly wounded.  She stammered, in
+tremulous accents:
+
+"Pierre, my friend, my brother."
+
+"Your brother!"  cried the young man, bitterly.  "Was that the name you
+were to give me on my return?"
+
+At these words, which so completely summed up the situation, Micheline
+remained silent.  Still she felt that at all hazards she must defend
+herself.  Her mother might come in at any moment.  Between Madame
+Desvarennes and her betrothed, what would become of her?  The hour was
+decisive.  Her strong love for Serge gave her fresh energy.
+
+"Why did you go away?"  she asked, with sadness.
+
+Pierre raised with pride his head which had been bent with anguish.
+
+"To be worthy of you," he merely said.
+
+"You did not need to be worthy of me; you, who were already above every
+one else.  We were betrothed; you only had to guard me."
+
+"Could not your heart guard itself?"
+
+"Without help, without the support of your presence and affection?"
+
+"Without other help or support than I had myself: Hope and Remembrance."
+
+Micheline turned pale.  Each word spoken by Pierre made her feel the
+unworthiness of her conduct more completely.  She endeavored to find a
+new excuse:
+
+"Pierre, you know I was only a child."
+
+"No," said the young man, with choked voice, "I see that you were already
+a woman; a being weak, inconstant, and cruel; who cares not for the love
+she inspires, and sacrifices all to the love she feels."
+
+So long as Pierre had only complained, Micheline felt overwhelmed and
+without strength; but the young man began to accuse.  In a moment the
+young girl regained her presence of mind and revolted.
+
+"Those are hard words!"  she exclaimed.
+
+"Are they not deserved?"  cried Pierre, no longer restraining himself.
+"You saw me arrive trembling, with eyes full of tears, and not only had
+you not an affectionate word to greet me with, but you almost accuse me
+of indifference.  You reproach me with having gone away.  Did you not
+know my motive for going?  I was betrothed to you; you were rich and I
+was poor.  To remove this inequality I resolved to make a name.  I sought
+one of those perilous scientific missions which bring celebrity or death
+to those who undertake them.  Ah!  think not that I went away from you
+without heart-breaking!  For a year I was almost alone, crushed with
+fatigue, always in danger; the thought that I was suffering for you
+supported me.
+
+"When lost in the vast desert, I was sad and discouraged; I invoked you,
+and your sweet face gave me fresh hope and energy.  I said to myself,
+'She is waiting for me.  A day will come when I shall win the prize of
+all my trouble.'  Well, Micheline, the day has come; here I am, returned,
+and I ask for my reward.  Is it what I had a right to expect?  While I
+was running after glory, another, more practical and better advised,
+stole your heart.  My happiness is destroyed.  You did well to forget me.
+The fool who goes so far away from his betrothed does not deserve her
+faithfulness.  He is cold, indifferent, he does not know how to love!"
+
+These vehement utterances troubled Micheline deeply.  For the first time
+she understood her betrothed, felt how much he loved her, and regretted
+not having known it before.  If Pierre had spoken like that before going
+away, who knows?  Micheline's feelings might have been quickened.
+No doubt she would have loved him.  It would have come naturally.
+But Pierre had kept the secret of his passion for the young girl to
+himself.  It was only despair, and the thought of losing her, that made
+him give vent to his feelings now.
+
+"I see that I have been cruel and unjust to you," said Micheline.
+"I deserve your reproaches, but I am not the only one to blame.  You,
+too, are at fault.  What I have just heard has upset me.  I am truly
+sorry to cause you so much pain; but it is too late.  I no longer belong
+to myself."
+
+"And did you belong to yourself?"
+
+"No!  It is true, you had my word, but be generous.  Do not abuse the
+authority which being my betrothed gives you.  That promise I would now
+ask back from you."
+
+"And if I refuse to release you from your promise?  If I tried to, regain
+your love?"  cried Pierre, forcibly.  "Have I not the right to defend
+myself?  And what would you think of my love if I relinquished you so
+readily?"
+
+There was a moment's silence.  The interview was at its highest pitch of
+excitement.  Micheline knew that she must put an end to it.  She replied
+with firmness:
+
+"A girl such as I am will not break her word; mine belongs to you, but my
+heart is another's.  Say you insist, and I am ready to keep my promise to
+become your wife.  It is for you to decide."
+
+Pierre gave the young girl a look which plunged into the depths of her
+heart.  He read there her resolve that she would act loyally, but that at
+the same time she would never forget him who had so irresistibly gained
+her heart.  He made a last effort.
+
+"Listen," he said, with ardent voice, "it is impossible that you can have
+forgotten me so soon: I love you so much!  Remember our affection in the
+old days, Micheline.  Remember!"
+
+He no longer argued; he pleaded.  Micheline felt victorious.  She was
+moved with pity.
+
+"Alas!  my poor Pierre, my affection was only friendship, and my heart
+has not changed toward you.  The love which I now feel is quite
+different.  If it had not come to me, I might have been your wife.
+And I esteemed you so much, that I should have been happy.  But now I
+understand the difference.  You, whom I had accepted, would never have
+been more to me than a tender companion; he whom I have chosen will be
+my master."
+
+Pierre uttered a cry at this cruel and frank avowal.
+
+"Ah!  how you hurt me!"
+
+And bitter tears rolled down his face to the relief of his overburdened
+heart.  He sank on to a seat, and for a moment gave way to violent grief.
+Micheline, more touched by his despair than she had been by his
+reproaches, went to him and wiped his face with her lace handkerchief.
+Her white hand was close to the young man's mouth,--and he kissed it
+eagerly.  Then, as if roused by the action, he rose with a changed look
+in his eyes, and seized the young girl in his arms.  Micheline did not
+utter a word.  She looked coldly and resolutely at Pierre, and threw back
+her head to avoid the contact of his eager lips.  That look was enough.
+The arms which held her were unloosed, and Pierre moved away, murmuring:
+
+"I beg your pardon.  You see I am not in my right mind."
+
+Then passing his hand across his forehead as if to chase away a wicked
+thought, he added:
+
+"So it is irrevocable?  You love him?"
+
+"Enough to give you so much pain; enough to be nobody's unless I belong
+to him."
+
+Pierre reflected a moment, then, coming to a decision:
+
+"Go, you are free," said he; "I give you back your promise."
+
+Micheline uttered a cry of triumph, which made him who had been her
+betrothed turn pale.  She regretted not having hidden her joy better.
+She approached Pierre and said:
+
+"Tell me that you forgive me!"
+
+"I forgive you."
+
+"You still weep?"
+
+"Yes; I am weeping over my lost happiness.  I thought the best means of
+being loved were to deserve it.  I was mistaken.  I will courageously
+atone for my error.  Excuse my weakness, and believe that you will never
+have a more faithful and devoted friend than I."
+
+Micheline gave him her hand, and, smiling, bowed her forehead to his
+lips.  He slowly impressed a brotherly kiss, which effaced the burning
+trace of the one which he had stolen a moment before.
+
+At the same time a deep voice was heard in the distance, calling Pierre.
+Micheline trembled.
+
+"'Tis my mother," she said.  "She is seeking you.  I will leave you.
+Adieu, and a thousand thanks from my very heart."
+
+And nimbly springing behind a clump of lilac-trees in flower, Micheline
+disappeared.
+
+Pierre mechanically went toward the house.  He ascended the marble steps
+and entered the drawing-room.  As he shut the door, Madame Desvarennes
+appeared.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+A CRITICAL INTERVIEW
+
+Madame Desvarennes had been driven to the Hotel du Louvre without losing
+a minute.  She most wanted to know in what state of mind her daughter's
+betrothed had arrived in Paris.  Had the letter, which brutally told him
+the truth, roused him and tightened the springs of his will?  Was he
+ready for the struggle?
+
+If she found him confident and bold, she had only to settle with him as
+to the common plan of action which must bring about the eviction of the
+audacious candidate who wished to marry Micheline.  If she found him
+discouraged and doubtful of himself, she had decided to animate him with
+her ardor against Serge Panine.
+
+She prepared these arguments on the way, and, boiling with impatience,
+outstripped in thought the fleet horse which was drawing her past the
+long railings of the Tuileries toward the Hotel du Louvre.  Wrapped in
+her meditations she did not see Pierre.  She was saying to herself:
+
+"This fair-haired Polish dandy does not know with whom he has to deal.
+He will see what sort of a woman I am.  He has not risen early enough in
+the morning to hoodwink me.  If Pierre is only of the same opinion as I,
+we shall soon spoil this fortune-hunter's work."
+
+The carriage stopped.
+
+"Monsieur Pierre Delarue?"  inquired the mistress.
+
+"Madame, he went out a quarter of an hour ago."
+
+"To go where?"
+
+"He did not say."
+
+"Do you know whether he will be absent long?"
+
+"I don't know."
+
+"Much obliged."
+
+Madame Desvarennes, quite discomfited by this mischance, reflected.
+Where could Pierre have gone?  Probably to her house.  Without losing a
+minute, she reentered the carriage, and gave orders to return to the Rue
+Saint-Dominique.  If he had gone at once to her house, it was plain that
+he was ready to do anything to keep Micheline.  The coachman who had
+received the order drove furiously.  She said to herself:
+
+"Pierre is in a cab.  Allowing that he is driving moderately quick he
+will only have half-an-hour's start of me.  He will pass through the
+office, will see Marechal, and however eager he be, will lose a quarter
+of an hour in chatting to him.  It would be most vexing if he did
+anything foolish in the remaining fifteen minutes!  The fault is mine:
+I ought to have sent him a letter at Marseilles, to tell him what line of
+conduct to adopt on his arrival.  So long as he does not meet Micheline
+on entering the house!"
+
+At that idea Madame Desvarennes felt the blood rushing to her face.  She
+put her head out of the carriage window, and called to the coachman:
+
+"Drive faster!"
+
+He drove more furiously still, and in a few minutes reached the Rue
+Saint-Dominique.
+
+She tore into the house like a hurricane, questioned the hall-porter, and
+learned that Delarue had arrived.  She hastened to Marechal, and asked
+him in such a strange manner, "Have you seen Pierre?"  that he thought
+some accident had happened.
+
+On seeing her secretary's scared look, she understood that what she most
+dreaded had come to pass.  She hurried to the drawing-room, calling
+Pierre in a loud voice.  The French window opened, and she found herself
+face to face with the young man.  A glance at her adopted son's face
+increased her fears.  She opened her arms and clasped Pierre to her
+heart.
+
+After the first emotions were over, she longed to know what had happened
+during her absence, and inquired of Pierre:
+
+"By whom were you received on arriving here?"
+
+"By Micheline."
+
+"That is what I feared!  What did she tell you?"
+
+"Everything!"
+
+In three sentences these two strong beings had summed up all that had
+taken place.  Madame Desvarennes remained silent for a moment, then,
+with sudden tenderness, and as if to make up for her daughter's
+treachery, said:
+
+"Come, let me kiss you again, my poor boy.  You suffer, eh?  and I too!
+I am quite overcome.  For ten years I have cherished the idea of your
+marrying Micheline.  You are a man of merit, and you have no relatives.
+You would not take my daughter away from me; on the contrary I think you
+like me, and would willingly live with me.  In arranging this marriage
+I realized the dream of my life.  I was not taking a son-in-law-I was
+gaining a new child."
+
+"Believe me," said Pierre, sadly, "it is not my fault that your wish is
+not carried out."
+
+"That, my boy, is another question!" cried Madame Desvarennes, whose
+voice was at once raised two tones.  "And that is where we do not agree.
+You are responsible for what has occurred.  I know what you are going,
+to tell me.  You wished to bring laurels to Micheline as a dower.  That
+is all nonsense!  When one leaves the Polytechnic School with honors, and
+with a future open to you like yours, it is not necessary to scour the
+deserts to dazzle a young girl.  One begins by marrying her, and
+celebrity comes afterward, at the same time as the children.  And then
+there was no need to risk all at such a cost.  What, are we then so
+grand?  Ex-bakers!  Millionaires, certainly, which does not alter the
+fact that poor Desvarennes carried out the bread, and that I gave change
+across the counter when folks came to buy sou-cakes!  But you wanted to
+be a knight-errant, and, during that time, a handsome fellow.  Did
+Micheline tell you the gentleman's name?"
+
+"I met him when I came here; he was with her in the garden.  We were
+introduced to each other."
+
+"That was good taste," said Madame Desvarennes with irony.  "Oh, he is a
+youth who is not easily disturbed, and in his most passionate transports
+will not disarrange a fold of his cravat.  You know he is a Prince?
+That is most flattering to the Desvarennes!  We shall use his coat-of-
+arms as our trade-mark.  The fortune hunter, ugh!  No doubt he said to
+himself, 'The baker has money--and her daughter is agreeable.'  And he is
+making a business of it."
+
+"He is only following the example of many of his equals.  Marriage is
+to-day the sole pursuit of the nobility."
+
+"The nobility!  That of our country might be tolerated, but foreign
+noblemen are mere adventurers."
+
+"It is well known that the Panines come from Posen--the papers have
+mentioned them more than twenty times."
+
+"Why is he not in his own country?"
+
+"He is exiled."
+
+"He has done something wrong, then!"
+
+"He has, like all his family, fought for independence."
+
+"Then he is a revolutionist!"
+
+"A patriot."
+
+"You are very kind to tell me all that."
+
+"I may hate Prince Panine," said Pierre, simply, "but that is no reason
+why I should not be just to him."
+
+"So be it; he is an exceptional being, a great citizen, a hero, if you
+like.  But that does not prove that he will make my daughter happy.  And
+if you take my advice, we shall send him about his business in a very
+short time."
+
+Madame Desvarennes was excited and paced hurriedly up and down the room.
+The idea of resuming the offensive after she had been forced to act on
+the defensive for months past pleased her.  She thought Pierre argued too
+much.  A woman of action, she did not understand why Pierre had not yet
+come to a resolution.  She felt that she must gain his confidence.
+
+"You are master of the situation," she said.  "The Prince does not suit
+me--"
+
+"Micheline loves him," interrupted Pierre.
+
+"She fancies so," replied Madame Desvarennes.  "She has got it into her
+head, but it will wear off.  You thoroughly understand that I did not bid
+you to come from Africa to be present at my daughter's wedding.  If you
+are a man, we shall see some fun.  Micheline is your betrothed.  You have
+our word, and the word of a Desvarennes is as good as the signature.
+--It has never been dishonored.  Well, refuse to give us back our
+promise.  Gain time, make love, and take my daughter away from that
+dandy."
+
+Pierre remained silent for a few minutes.  In a moment he measured the
+extent of the mischief done, by seeing Micheline before consulting Madame
+Desvarennes.  With the help of this energetic woman he might have
+struggled, whereas left to his own strength, he had at the outset been
+vanquished and forced to lay down his arms.  Not only had he yielded, but
+he had drawn his ally into his defeat.
+
+"Your encouragements come too late," said he.  "Micheline asked me to
+give her back her promise, and I gave it to her."
+
+"You were so weak as that!"  cried Madame Desvarennes.  "And she had so
+much boldness?  Does she dote on him so?  I suspected her plans, and I
+hastened to warn you.  But all is not lost.  You have given Micheline
+back her promise.  So be it.  But I have not given you back yours.  You
+are pledged to me.  I will not countenance the marriage which my daughter
+has arranged without my consent!  Help me to break it off.  And, faith,
+you could easily find another woman worth Micheline, but where shall I
+find a son-in-law worth you?  Come, the happiness of us all is in peril;
+save it!"
+
+"Why continue the struggle?  I am beaten beforehand."
+
+"But if you forsake me, what can I do single-handed with Micheline?"
+
+"Do what she wishes, as usual.  You are surprised at my giving you this
+advice?  It is no merit on my part.  Until now you have refused your
+daughter's request; but if she comes again beseeching and crying, you who
+are so strong and can say so well 'I will,' will be weak and will not be
+able to refuse her her Prince.  Believe me; consent willingly.  Who
+knows?  Your son'-in-law may be grateful to you for it by-and-by."
+
+Madame Desvarennes had listened to Pierre with amazement.
+
+"Really, you are incredible," she said; "you discuss all this so calmly.
+Have you no grief?"
+
+"Yes," replied Pierre, solemnly, "it is almost killing me."
+
+"Nonsense!  You are boasting!" cried Madame Desvarennes, vehemently.
+"Ah, scholar!  figures have dried up your heart!"
+
+"No," replied the young man, with melancholy, "but work has destroyed in
+me the seductions of youth.  It has made me thoughtful, and a little sad.
+I frightened Micheline, instead of attracting her.  The worst is that we
+live in such a state of high pressure, it is quite impossible to grasp
+all that is offered to us in this life-work and pleasure.  It is
+necessary to make a choice, to economize one's time and strength, and to
+work with either the heart or the brain alone.  The result is that the
+neglected organ wastes away, and that men of pleasure remain all their
+lives mediocre workers, while hard workers are pitiful lovers.  The
+former sacrifice the dignity of existence, the latter that which is the
+charm of existence.  So that, in decisive moments, when the man of
+pleasure appeals to his intelligence, he finds he is unfit for duty, and
+when the man of toil appeals to his heart, he finds that he is
+unqualified for happiness."
+
+"Well, my boy, so much the worse for the women who cannot appreciate men
+of work, and who allow themselves to be wheedled by men of pleasure.
+I never was one of those; and serious as you are, thirty years ago I
+would have jumped at you.  But as you know your ailment so well, why
+don't you cure yourself?  The remedy is at hand."
+
+"What is it?"
+
+"Strong will.  Marry Micheline.  I'll answer for everything."
+
+"She does not love me."
+
+"A woman always ends by loving her husband."
+
+"I love Micheline too much to accept her hand without her heart."
+
+Madame Desvarennes saw that she would gain nothing, and that the game was
+irrevocably lost.  A great sorrow stole over her.  She foresaw a dark
+future, and had a presentiment that trouble had entered the house with
+Serge Panine.  What could she do?  Combat the infatuation of her
+daughter!  She knew that life would be odious for her if Micheline ceased
+to laugh and to sing.  Her daughter's tears would conquer her will.
+Pierre had told her truly.  Where was the use of fighting when defeat was
+certain?  She, too, felt that she was powerless, and with heartfelt
+sorrow came to a decision.
+
+"Come, I see that I must make up my mind to be grandmother to little
+princes.  It pleases me but little on the father's account.  My daughter
+will have a sad lot with a fellow of that kind.  Well, he had better keep
+in the right path; for I shall be there to call him to order.  Micheline
+must be happy.  When my husband was alive, I was already more of a mother
+than a wife; now my whole life is wrapped up in my daughter."
+
+Then raising her vigorous arms with grim energy, she added:
+
+"Do you know, if my daughter were made miserable through her husband, I
+should be capable of killing him."
+
+These were the last words of the interview which decided the destiny of
+Micheline, of the Prince, of Madame Desvarennes, and of Pierre.  The
+mistress stretched out her hand and rang the bell.  A servant appeared,
+to whom she gave instructions to tell Marechal to come down.  She thought
+it would be pleasant for Pierre to pour out his griefs into the heart of
+his friend.  A man weeps with difficulty before a woman, and she guessed
+that the young man's heart was swollen with tears.  Marechal was not far
+off.  He arrived in a moment, and springing toward Pierre put his arms
+round his neck.  When Madame Desvarennes saw the two friends fully
+engrossed with each other, she said to Marechal:
+
+"I give you leave until this evening.  Then bring Pierre back with you;
+I wish to see him after dinner."
+
+And with a firm step she went toward Micheline's room, where the latter
+was waiting in fear to know the result of the interview.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+A SIGNIFICANT MEETING
+
+The mansion in the Rue Saint-Dominique is certainly one of the finest to
+be seen.  Sovereigns alone have more sumptuous palaces.  The wide
+staircase, of carved oak, is bordered by a bronze balustrade, made by
+Ghirlandajo, and brought from Florence by Sommervieux, the great dealer
+in curiosities.  Baron Rothschild would consent to give only a hundred
+thousand francs for it.  Madame Desvarennes bought it.  The large panels
+of the staircase are hung with splendid tapestry, from designs by
+Boucher, representing the different metamorphoses of Jupiter.  At each
+landing-place stands a massive Japanese vase of 'claisonne' enamel,
+supported by a tripod of Chinese bronze, representing chimeras.  On the
+first floor, tall columns of red granite, crowned by gilt capitals,
+divide the staircase from a gallery, serving as a conservatory.  Plaited
+blinds of crimson silk hang before the Gothic windows, filled with
+marvellous stained glass.
+
+In the vestibule-the hangings of which are of Cordova-leather, with gold
+ground-seemingly awaiting the good pleasure of some grand lady, is a
+sedan-chair, decorated with paintings by Fragonard.  Farther on, there is
+one of those superb carved mother-of-pearl coffers, in which Oriental
+women lay by their finery and jewellery.  A splendid Venetian mirror,
+its frame embellished with tiny figure subjects, and measuring two metres
+in width and three in height, fills a whole panel of the vestibule.
+Portieres of Chinese satin, ornamented with striking embroidery, such as
+figures on a priest's chasuble, fall in sumptuous folds at the drawing-
+room and dining-room doors.
+
+The drawing-room contains a splendid set of Louis Quatorze furniture,
+of gilt wood, upholstered in fine tapestry, in an extraordinary state of
+preservation.  Three crystal lustres, hanging at intervals along the
+room, sparkle like diamonds.  The hangings, of woven silk and gold, are
+those which were sent as a present by Louis Quatorze to Monsieur de
+Pimentel, the Spanish Ambassador, to reward him for the part he had taken
+in the conclusion of the Treaty of the Pyrenees.  These hangings are
+unique, and were brought back from Spain in 1814, in the baggage-train of
+Soult's army, and sold to an inhabitant of Toulouse for ten thousand
+francs.  It was there that Madame Desvarennes discovered them in a garret
+in 1864, neglected by the grandchildren of the buyer, who were ignorant
+of the immense value of such unrivalled work.  Cleverly mended, they are
+to-day the pride of the great trader's drawing-room.  On the mantelpiece
+there is a large clock in Chinese lacquer, ornamented with gilt bronze,
+made on a model sent out from Paris in the reign of Louis Quatorze, and
+representing the Flight of the Hours pursued by Time.
+
+Adjoining the great drawing-room is a boudoir upholstered in light gray
+silk damask, with bouquets of flowers.  This is Madame Desvarennes's
+favorite room.  A splendid Erard piano occupies one side of the
+apartment.  Facing it is a sideboard in sculptured ebony, enriched with
+bronze, by Gouthieres.  There are only two pictures on the walls: "The
+Departure of the Newly Married Couple," exquisitely painted by Lancret;
+and "The Prediction," an adorable work by Watteau, bought at an
+incredible price at the Pourtales sale.  Over the chimney-piece is a
+miniature by Pommayrac, representing Micheline as a little child--a
+treasure which Madame Desvarennes cannot behold without tears coming to
+her eyes.  A door, hidden by curtains, opens on to a staircase leading
+directly to the courtyard.
+
+The dining-room is in the purest Renaissance style austere woodwork;
+immense chests of caned pearwood, on which stand precious ewers in Urbino
+ware, and dishes by Bernard Palissy.  The high stone fireplace is
+surmounted by a portrait of Diana of Poitiers, with a crescent on her
+brow, and is furnished with firedogs of elaborately worked iron.  The
+centre panel bears the arms of Admiral Bonnivet.  Stained-glass windows
+admit a softly-tinted light.  From the magnificently painted ceiling, a
+chandelier of brass repousse work hangs from the claws of a hovering
+eagle.
+
+The billiard-room is in the Indian style.  Magnificent panoplies unite
+Rajpoot shields, Mahratta scimitars, helmets with curtains of steel,
+rings belonging to Afghan chiefs, and long lances ornamented with white
+mares' tails, wielded by the horsemen of Cabul.  The walls are painted
+from designs brought from Lahore.  The panels of the doors were decorated
+by Gerome.  The great artist has painted Nautch girls twisting their
+floating scarves, and jugglers throwing poignards into the air.  Around
+the room are low divans, covered with soft and brilliant Oriental cloth.
+The chandelier is quite original in form, being the exact representation
+of the god Vishnu.  From the centre of the body hangs a lotus leaf of
+emeralds, and from each of the four arms is suspended a lamp shaped like
+a Hindu pagoda, which throws out a mellow light.
+
+Madame Desvarennes was entertaining her visitors in these celebrated
+apartments that evening.  Marechal and Pierre had just come in, and were
+talking together near the fireplace.  A few steps from them was a group,
+consisting of Cayrol, Madame Desvarennes, and a third person, who had
+never until then put his foot in the house, in spite of intercessions in
+his favor made by the banker to Madame Desvarennes.  He was a tall, pale,
+thin man, whose skin seemed stretched on his bones, with a strongly
+developed under-jaw, like that of a ravenous animal, and eyes of
+indefinable color, always changing, and veiled behind golden-rimmed
+spectacles.  His hands were soft and smooth, with moist palms and closely
+cut nails--vicious hands, made to take cunningly what they coveted.  He
+had scanty hair, of a pale yellow, parted just above the ear, so as to
+enable him to brush it over the top of his head.  This personage, clad in
+a double-breasted surtout, over a white waistcoat, and wearing a many-
+colored rosette, was called Hermann Herzog.
+
+A daring financier, he had come from Luxembourg, preceded by a great
+reputation; and, in a few months, he had launched in Paris such a series
+of important affairs that the big-wigs on the Exchange felt bound to
+treat with him.  There were many rumors current about him.  Some said he
+was the most intelligent, most active, and most scrupulous of men that it
+was possible to meet.  Others said that no greater scoundrel had ever
+dared the vengeance of the law, after plundering honest people.  Of
+German nationality, those who cried him down said he was born at Mayence.
+Those who treated the rumors as legends said he was born at Frankfort,
+the most Gallic town beyond the river Rhine.
+
+He had just completed an important line of railway from Morocco to the
+centre of our colony in Algeria, and now he was promoting a company for
+exporting grain and flour from America.  Several times Cayrol had tried
+to bring Herzog and Madame Desvarennes together.  The banker had an
+interest in the grain and flour speculation, but he asserted that it
+would not succeed unless the mistress had a hand in it.  Cayrol had a
+blind faith in the mistress's luck.
+
+Madame Desvarennes, suspicious of everything foreign, and perfectly
+acquainted with the rumors circulated respecting Herzog, had always
+refused to receive him.  But Cayrol had been so importunate that, being
+quite tired of refusing, and, besides, being willing to favor Cayrol for
+having so discreetly managed the negotiations of Micheline's marriage,
+she had consented.
+
+Herzog had just arrived.  He was expressing to Madame Desvarennes his
+delight at being admitted to her house.  He had so often heard her highly
+spoken of that he had formed a high idea of her, but one which was,
+however, far below the reality; he understood now that it was an honor to
+be acquainted with her.  He wheedled her with German grace, and with a
+German-Jewish accent, which reminds one of the itinerant merchants, who
+offer you with persistence "a goot pargain."
+
+The mistress had been rather cold at first, but Herzog's amiability had
+thawed her.  This man, with his slow speech and queer eyes, produced a
+fascinating effect on one like a serpent.  He was repugnant, and yet, in
+spite of one's self one was led on.  He, had at once introduced the grain
+question, but in this he found himself face to face with the real Madame
+Desvarennes; and no politeness held good on her part when it was a
+question of business.  From his first words, she had found a weak point
+in the plan, and had attacked him with such plainness that the financier,
+seeing his enterprise collapse at the sound of the mistress's voice-like
+the walls of Jericho at the sound of the Jewish trumpets--had beaten a
+retreat, and had changed the subject.
+
+He was about to float a credit and discount company superior to any in
+the world.  He would come back and talk with Madame Desvarennes about it,
+because she ought to participate in the large profits which the matter
+promised.  There was no risk.  The novelty of the undertaking consisted
+in the concurrence of the largest banking-houses of France and abroad,
+which would hinder all competition, and prevent hostility on the part of
+the great money-handlers.  It was very curious, and Madame Desvarennes
+would feel great satisfaction in knowing the mechanism of this company,
+destined to become, from the first, the most important in the world, and
+yet most easy to understand.
+
+Madame Desvarennes neither said "Yes" nor "No."  Moved by the soft and
+insinuating talkativeness of Herzog, she felt herself treading on
+dangerous ground.  It seemed to her that her foot was sinking, as in
+those dangerous peat-mosses of which the surface is covered with green
+grass, tempting one to run on it.  Cayrol was under the charm.  He drank
+in the German's words.  This clever man, who had never till then been
+duped, had found his master in Herzog.
+
+Pierre and Marechal had come nearer, and Madame Desvarennes, profiting by
+this mingling of groups, introduced the men to each other.  On hearing
+the name of Pierre Delarue, Herzog looked thoughtful, and asked if the
+young man was the renowned engineer whose works on the coast of Africa
+had caused so much talk in Europe?  On Madame Desvarennes replying in the
+affirmative, he showered well-chosen compliments on Pierre.  He had had
+the pleasure of meeting Delarue in Algeria, when he had gone over to
+finish the railroad in Morocco.
+
+But Pierre had stepped back on learning that the constructor of that
+important line was before him.
+
+"Ah! is it you, sir, who carried out that job?"  said he.  "Faith! you
+treated those poor Moors rather hardly!"
+
+He remembered the misery of the poor natives employed by Europeans who
+superintended the work.  Old men, women, and children were placed at the
+disposal of the contractors by the native authorities, to dig up and
+remove the soil; and these poor wretches, crushed with hard work, and
+driven with the lash by drunken overseers--who commanded them with a
+pistol in hand--under a burning sun, inhaled the noxious vapors arising
+from the upturned soil, and died like flies.  It was a terrible sight,
+and one that Pierre could not forget.
+
+But Herzog, with his cajoling sweetness, protested against this
+exaggerated picture.  Delarue had arrived during the dog-days--a bad
+time.  And then, it was necessary for the work to be carried on without
+delay.  Besides, a few Moors, more or less--what did it matter?  Negroes,
+all but monkeys!
+
+Marechal, who had listened silently until then, interrupted the
+conversation, to defend the monkeys in the name of Littre.  He had framed
+a theory, founded on Darwin, and tending to prove that men who despised
+monkeys despised themselves.  Herzog, a little taken aback by this
+unexpected reply, had looked at Marechal slyly, asking himself if it was
+a joke.  But, seeing Madame Desvarennes laugh, he recovered his self-
+possession.  Business could not be carried on in the East as in Europe.
+And then, had it not always been thus?  Had not all the great discoverers
+worked the countries which they discovered?  Christopher Columbus,
+Cortez--had they not taken riches from the Indians, in exchange for the
+civilization which they brought them?  He (Herzog) had, in making a
+railway in Morocco, given the natives the means of civilizing themselves.
+It was only fair that it should cost them something.
+
+Herzog uttered his tirade with all the charm of which he was capable;
+he looked to the right and to the left to notice the effect.  He saw
+nothing but constrained faces.  It seemed as if they were expecting some
+one or something.  Time was passing; ten o'clock had just struck.
+From the little boudoir sounds of music were occasionally heard, when
+Micheline's nervous hand struck a louder chord on her piano.  She was
+there, anxiously awaiting some one or something.  Jeanne de Cernay,
+stretched in an easy-chair, her head leaning on her hand, was dreaming.
+
+During the past three weeks the young girl had changed.  Her bright wit
+no longer enlivened Micheline's indolent calmness; her brilliant eyes
+were surrounded by blue rings, which denoted nights passed without sleep.
+The change coincided strangely with Prince Panine's departure for
+England, and the sending of the letter which recalled Pierre to Paris.
+Had the inhabitants of the mansion been less occupied with their own
+troubles, they would no doubt have noticed this sudden change, and have
+sought to know the reason.  But the attention of all was concentrated on
+the events which had already troubled them, and which would no doubt be
+yet more serious to the house, until lately so quiet.
+
+The visitors' bell sounded, and caused Micheline to rise.  The blood
+rushed to her cheeks.  She whispered, "It is he!"  and, hesitating, she
+remained a moment leaning on the piano, listening vaguely to the sounds
+in the drawing-room.  The footman's voice announcing the visitor reached
+the young girls:
+
+"Prince Panine."
+
+Jeanne also rose then, and if Micheline had turned round she would have
+been frightened at the pallor of her companion.  But Mademoiselle
+Desvarennes was not thinking of Mademoiselle de Cernay; she had just
+raised the heavy door curtain, and calling to Jeanne, "Are you coming?"
+passed into the drawing-room:
+
+It was indeed Prince Serge, who was expected by Cayrol with impatience,
+by Madame Desvarennes with silent irritation, by Pierre with deep
+anguish.  The handsome prince, calm and smiling, with white cravat and
+elegantly fitting dress-coat which showed off his fine figure, advanced
+toward Madame Desvarennes before whom he bowed.  He seemed only to have
+seen Micheline's mother.  Not a look for the two young girls or the men
+who were around him.  The rest of the universe did not seem to count.
+He bent as if before a queen, with a dash of respectful adoration.
+He seemed to be saying:
+
+"Here I am at your feet; my life depends on you; make a sign and I shall
+be the happiest of men or the most miserable."
+
+Micheline followed him with eyes full of pride; she admired his haughty
+grace and his caressing humility.  It was by these contrasts that Serge
+had attracted the young girl's notice.  She felt herself face to face
+with a strange nature, different from men around her, and had become
+interested in him.  Then he had spoken to her, and his sweet penetrating
+voice had touched her heart.
+
+What he had achieved with Micheline he longed to achieve with her mother.
+After placing himself at the feet of the mother of her whom he loved,
+he sought the road to her heart.  He took his place beside the mistress
+and spoke.  He hoped that Madame Desvarennes would excuse the haste of
+his visit.  The obedience which he had shown in going away must be a
+proof to her of his submission to her wishes.  He was her most devoted
+and respectful servant.  He resigned himself to anything she might exact
+of him.
+
+Madame Desvarennes listened to that sweet voice; she had never heard it
+so full of charm.  She understood what influence this sweetness had
+exercised over Micheline; she repented not having watched over her more
+carefully, and cursed the hour that had brought all this evil upon them.
+She was obliged, however, to answer him.  The mistress went straight to
+the point.  She was not one to beat about the bush when once her mind was
+made up.
+
+"You come, no doubt, sir, to receive an answer to the request you
+addressed to me before your departure for England!"
+
+The Prince turned slightly pale.  The words which Madame Desvarennes was
+about to pronounce were of such importance to him that he could not help
+feeling moved.  He answered, in a suppressed tone:
+
+"I would not have dared to speak to you on the subject, Madame,
+especially in public; but since you anticipate my desire, I admit I am
+waiting with deep anxiety for one word from you which will decide my
+fate."
+
+He continued bent before Madame Desvarennes like a culprit before his
+judge.  The mistress was silent for a moment, as if hesitating before
+answering, and then said, gravely:
+
+"That word I hesitated to pronounce, but some one in whom I have great
+confidence has advised me to receive you favorably."
+
+"He, Madame, whoever he may be, has gained my everlasting gratitude."
+
+"Show it to him," said Madame Desvarennes; "he is the companion of
+Micheline's young days, almost a son to me."
+
+And turning toward Pierre, she pointed him out to Panine.
+
+Serge took three rapid strides toward Pierre, but quick as he had been
+Micheline was before him.  Each of the lovers seized a hand of Pierre,
+and pressed it with tender effusion.  Panine, with his Polish
+impetuosity, was making the most ardent protestations to Pierre--he would
+be indebted to him for life.
+
+Micheline's late betrothed, with despair in his heart, allowed his hands
+to be pressed and wrung in silence.  The voice of her whom he loved
+brought tears to his eyes.
+
+"How generous and good you are!"  said the young girl, "how nobly you
+have sacrificed yourself!"
+
+"Don't thank me," replied Pierre; "I have no merit in accomplishing what
+you admire.  I am weak, you see, and I could not bear to see you suffer."
+
+There was a great commotion in the drawing-room.  Cayrol was explaining
+to Herzog, who was listening with great attention, what was taking place.
+Serge Panine was to be Madame Desvarennes's son-in-law.  It was a great
+event.
+
+"Certainly," said the German; "Madame Desvarennes's son-in-law will
+become a financial power.  And a Prince, too.  What a fine name for a
+board of directors!"
+
+The two financiers looked at each other for a moment; the same thought
+had struck them.
+
+"Yes, but," replied Cayrol, "Madame Desvarennes will never allow Panine
+to take part in business."
+
+"Who knows?"  said Herzog.  "We shall see how the marriage settlements
+are drawn up."
+
+"But," cried Cayrol, "I would not have it said that I was leading Madame
+Desvarennes's son-in-law into speculations."
+
+"Who is speaking of that?"  replied Herzog, coldly.  "Am I seeking
+shareholders?  I have more money than I want; I refuse millions every
+day."
+
+"Oh, I know capitalists run after you," said Cayrol, laughingly; "and to
+welcome them you affect the scruples of a pretty woman.  But let us go
+and congratulate the Prince."
+
+While Cayrol and Herzog were exchanging those few words which had such a
+considerable influence on the future of Serge Panine--a scene, terrible
+in its simplicity, was going on without being noticed.  Micheline had
+thrown herself with a burst of tenderness into her mother's arms.
+Serge was deeply affected by the young girl's affection for him, when a
+trembling hand touched his arm.  He turned round.  Jeanne de Cernay was
+before him, pale and wan; her eyes sunken into her head like two black
+nails, and her lips tightened by a violent contraction.  The Prince stood
+thunderstruck at the sight of her.  He looked around him.  Nobody was
+observing him.  Pierre was beside Marechal, who was whispering those
+words which only true friends can find in the sad hours of life.  Madame
+Desvarennes was holding Micheline in her arms.  Serge approached
+Mademoiselle de Cernay.  Jeanne still fixed on him the same menacing
+look.  He was afraid.
+
+"Take care!"  he said.
+
+"Of what?"  asked the young girl, with a troubled voice.  "What have I to
+fear now?"
+
+"What do you wish?"  resumed Panine, with old firmness, and with a
+gesture of impatience.
+
+"I wish to speak with you immediately."
+
+"You see that is impossible."
+
+"I must."
+
+Cayrol and Herzog approached.  Serge smiled at Jeanne with a sign of the
+head which meant "Yes."  The young girl turned away in silence, awaiting
+the fulfilment of the promise made.
+
+Cayrol took her by the hand with tender familiarity.
+
+"What were you saying to the happy man who has gained the object of his
+dreams, Mademoiselle?  It is not to him you must speak, but to me, to
+give me hope.  The moment is propitious; it is the day for betrothals.
+You know how much I love you; do me the favor of no longer repulsing me
+as you have done hitherto!  If you would be kind, how charming it would
+be to celebrate the two weddings on the same day.  One church, one
+ceremony, one splendid feast would unite two happy couples.  Is there
+nothing in this picture to entice you?"
+
+"I am not easily enticed, as you know," said Jeanne, in a firm voice,
+trying to smile.
+
+Micheline and Madame Desvarennes had drawn near.
+
+"Come, Cayrol," said Serge, in a tone of command; "I am happy to-day;
+perhaps I may succeed in your behalf as I have done in my own.  Let me
+plead your cause with Mademoiselle de Cernay?"
+
+"With all my heart.  I need an eloquent pleader," sighed the banker,
+shaking his head sadly.
+
+"And you, Mademoiselle, will you submit to the trial?"  asked the Prince,
+turning toward Jeanne.  "We have always been good friends, and I shall be
+almost a brother to you.  This gives me some right over your mind and
+heart, it seems to me.  Do you authorize me to exercise it?"
+
+"As you like, sir," answered Jeanne, coldly.  "The attempt is novel.  Who
+knows?  Perhaps it will succeed!"
+
+"May Heaven grant it," said Cayrol.  Then, approaching Panine:
+
+"Ah!  dear Prince, what gratitude I shall owe you!  You know," added he
+in a whisper, "if you need a few thousand louis for wedding presents--"
+
+"Go, go, corrupter!"  replied Serge, with the same forced gayety; "you
+are flashing your money in front of us.  You see it is not invincible,
+as you are obliged to have recourse to my feeble talents.  But know that
+I am working for glory."
+
+And turning toward Madame Desvarennes he added: "I only ask a quarter of
+an hour."
+
+"Don't defend yourself too much," said Micheline in her companion's ear,
+and giving her a tender kiss which the latter did not return.
+
+"Come with me," said Micheline to Pierre, offering him her arm; "I want
+to belong to you alone while Serge is pleading with Jeanne.  I will be
+your sister as formerly.  If you only knew how I love you!"
+
+The large French window which led to the garden had just been opened by
+Marechal, and the mild odors of a lovely spring night perfumed the
+drawing-room.  They all went out on the lawn.  Thousands of stars were
+twinkling in the sky, and the eyes of Micheline and Pierre were lifted
+toward the dark blue heavens seeking vaguely for the star which presided
+over their destiny.  She, to know whether her life would be the long poem
+of love of which she dreamed; he, to ask whether glory, that exacting
+mistress for whom he had made so many sacrifices, would at least comfort
+him for his lost love.
+
+
+
+
+ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:
+
+A man weeps with difficulty before a woman
+Antagonism to plutocracy and hatred of aristocrats
+Enough to be nobody's unless I belong to him
+Even those who do not love her desire to know her
+Flayed and roasted alive by the critics
+Hard workers are pitiful lovers
+He lost his time, his money, his hair, his illusions
+He was very unhappy at being misunderstood
+I thought the best means of being loved were to deserve it
+Men of pleasure remain all their lives mediocre workers
+My aunt is jealous of me because I am a man of ideas
+Negroes, all but monkeys!
+Patience, should he encounter a dull page here or there
+Romanticism still ferments beneath the varnish of Naturalism
+Sacrifice his artistic leanings to popular caprice
+Unqualified for happiness
+You are talking too much about it to be sincere
+
+
+
+
+End of this Project Gutenberg Etext of Serge Panine, v1
+by Georges Ohnet
+
+
+
+
+
+
+SERGE PANINE
+
+By GEORGES OHNET
+
+
+
+BOOK 2.
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+JEANNE'S SECRET
+
+
+In the drawing-room Jeanne and Serge remained standing, facing each
+other. The mask had fallen from their faces; the forced smile had
+disappeared.  They looked at each other attentively, like two duellists
+seeking to read each other's game, so that they may ward off the fatal
+stroke and prepare the decisive parry.
+
+"Why did you leave for England three weeks ago, without seeing me and
+without speaking to me?"
+
+"What could I have said to you?"  replied the Prince, with an air of
+fatigue and dejection.
+
+Jeanne flashed a glance brilliant as lightning:
+
+"You could have told me that you had just asked for Micheline's hand!"
+
+"That would have been brutal!"
+
+"It would have been honest!  But it would have necessitated an
+explanation, and you don't like explaining.  You have preferred leaving
+me to guess this news from the acts of those around me, and the talk of
+strangers."
+
+All these words had been spoken by Jeanne with feverish vivacity.  The
+sentences were as cutting as strokes from a whip.  The young girl's
+agitation was violent; her cheeks were red, and her breathing was hard
+and stifled with emotion.  She stopped for a moment; then, turning toward
+the Prince, and looking him full in the face, she said:
+
+"And so, this marriage is decided?"
+
+Serge answered,
+
+"Yes."
+
+It was fainter than a whisper.  As if she could not believe it, Jeanne
+repeated:
+
+"You are going to marry Micheline?"
+
+And as Panine in a firmer voice answered again, "Yes!"  the young girl
+took two rapid steps and brought her flushed face close to him.
+
+"And I, then?"  she cried with a violence she could no longer restrain.
+
+Serge made a sign.  The drawing-room window was still open, and from
+outside they could be heard.
+
+"Jeanne, in mercy calm yourself," replied he.  "You are in a state of
+excitement."
+
+"Which makes you uncomfortable?"  interrupted the young girl mockingly.
+
+"Yes, but for your sake only," said he, coldly.
+
+"For mine?"
+
+"Certainly.  I fear your committing an imprudence which might harm you."
+
+"Yes; but you with me!  And it is that only which makes you afraid."
+
+The Prince looked at Mademoiselle de Cernay, smilingly.  Changing his
+tone, he took her hand in his.
+
+"How naughty you are to-night!  And what temper you are showing toward
+poor Serge!  What an opinion he will have of himself after your
+displaying such a flattering scene of jealousy!"
+
+Jeanne drew away her hand.
+
+"Ah, don't try to joke.  This is not the moment, I assure you.  You don't
+exactly realize your situation.  Don't you understand that I am prepared
+to tell Madame Desvarennes everything--"
+
+"Everything!"  said the Prince.  "In truth, it would not amount to much.
+You would tell her that I met you in England; that I courted you, and
+that you found my attentions agreeable.  And then?  It pleases you to
+think too seriously of that midsummer night's dream under the great trees
+of Churchill Castle, and you reproach me for my errors!  But what are
+they?  Seriously, I do not see them!  We lived in a noisy world; where we
+enjoyed the liberty which English manners allow to young people.  Your
+aunt found no fault with the charming chatter which the English call
+flirtation.  I told you I loved you; you allowed me to think that I was
+not displeasing to you.  We, thanks to that delightful agreement, spent a
+most agreeable summer, and now you do not wish to put an end to that
+pleasant little excursion made beyond the limits drawn by our Parisian
+world, so severe, whatever people say about it.  It is not reasonable,
+and it is imprudent.  If you carry out your menacing propositions, and if
+you take my future mother-in-law as judge of the rights which you claim,
+don't you understand that you would be condemned beforehand?  Her
+interests are directly opposed to yours.  Could she hesitate between her
+daughter and you?"
+
+"Oh! your calculations are clever and your measures were well taken,"
+replied Jeanne.  "Still, if Madame Desvarennes were not the woman you
+think her--" Then, hesitating:
+
+"If she took my part, and thinking that he who was an unloyal lover would
+be an unfaithful husband--she would augur of the future of her daughter
+by my experience; and what would happen?"
+
+"Simply this," returned Serge.  "Weary of the precarious and hazardous
+life which I lead, I would leave for Austria, and rejoin the service.
+A uniform is the only garb which can hide poverty honorably."
+
+Jeanne looked at him with anguish; and making an effort said:
+
+"Then, in any case, for me it is abandonment?"   And falling upon a seat,
+she hid her face in her hands.  Panine remained silent for a moment.  The
+young girl's, grief, which he knew to be sincere, troubled him more than
+he wished to show.  He had loved Mademoiselle de Cernay, and he loved her
+still.  But he felt that a sign of weakness on his part would place him
+at Jeanne's mercy, and that an avowal from his lips at this grave moment
+meant a breaking-off of his marriage with Micheline.  He hardened himself
+against his impressions, and replied, with insinuating sweetness:
+
+"Why do you speak of desertion, when a good man who loves you fondly, and
+who possesses a handsome fortune, wishes to marry you?"
+
+Mademoiselle de Cernay raised her head, hastily.
+
+"So, it is you who advise me to marry Monsieur Cayrol?  Is there nothing
+revolting to you in the idea that I should follow your advice?  But then,
+you deceived me from the first moment you spoke to me.  You have never
+loved me even for a day!  Not an hour!"
+
+Serge smiled, and resuming his light, caressing tone, replied:
+
+"My dear Jeanne, if I had a hundred thousand francs a year, I give you my
+word of honor that I would not marry another woman but you, for you would
+make an adorable Princess."
+
+Mademoiselle de Cernay made a gesture of perfect indifference.
+
+"Ah!  what does the title matter to me?"  she exclaimed, with passion.
+"What I want is you!  Nothing but you!"
+
+"You do not know what you ask.  I love you far too much to associate you
+with my destiny.  If you knew that gilded misery, that white kid-gloved
+poverty, which is my lot, you would be frightened, and you would
+understand that in my resolution to give you up there is much of
+tenderness and generosity.  Do you think it is such an easy matter to
+give up a woman so adorable as you are?  I resign myself to it, though.
+
+"What could I do with my beautiful Jeanne in the three rooms in the Rue
+de Madame where I live?  Could I, with the ten or twelve thousand francs
+which I receive through the liberality of the Russian Panines, provide a
+home?  I can hardly make it do for myself.  I live at the club, where I
+dine cheaply.  I ride my friends' horses!  I never touch a card, although
+I love play.  I go much in society; I shine there, and walk home to save
+the cost of a carriage.  My door-keeper cleans my rooms and keeps my
+linen in order.  My private life is sad, dull, and humiliating.  It is
+the black chrysalis of the bright butterfly which you know.  That is what
+Prince Panine is, my dear Jeanne.  A gentleman of good appearance, who
+lives as carefully as an old maid.  The world sees him elegant and happy,
+and its envies his luxury; but this luxury is as deluding as watch-chains
+made of pinchbeck.  You understand now that I cannot seriously ask you to
+share such an existence."
+
+But if, with this sketch of his life, correctly described, Panine thought
+to turn the young girl against him, he was mistaken.  He had counted
+without considering Jeanne's sanguine temperament, which would lead her
+to make any sacrifices to keep the man she adored.
+
+"If you were rich, Serge," she said, "I would not have made an effort to
+bring you back to me.  But you are poor and I have a right to tell you
+that I love you.  Life with you would be all devotedness and self-denial.
+Each pain endured would be a proof of love, and that is why I wish to
+suffer.  Your life with mine would be neither sad nor humiliated; I would
+make it sweet by my tenderness, and bright by my happiness.  And we
+should be so happy that you would say, 'How could I ever have dreamed of
+anything else?'"
+
+"Alas!  Jeanne," replied the Prince; "it is a charming and poetic idyl
+which you present to me.  We should flee far from the world, eh?  We
+should go to an unknown spot and try to regain paradise lost.  How long
+would that happiness last?  A season during the springtime of our youth.
+Then autumn would come, sad and harsh.  Our illusions would vanish like
+the swallows in romances, and we should find, with alarm, that we had
+taken the dream of a day for eternal happiness!  Forgive my speaking
+plain words of disenchantment," added Serge, seeing Jeanne rising
+abruptly, "but our life is being settled at this moment.  Reason alone
+should guide us."
+
+"And I beseech you to be guided only by your heart," cried Mademoiselle
+de Cernay, seizing the hands of the Prince, and pressing them with her
+trembling fingers.  "Remember that you loved me.  Say that you love me
+still!"
+
+Jeanne had drawn near to Serge.  Her burning face almost touched his.
+Her eyes, bright with excitement, pleaded passionately for a tender look.
+She was most fascinating, and Panine, usually master of himself, lost his
+presence of mind for a moment.  His arms encircled the shoulders of the
+adorable pleader, and his lips were buried in the masses of her dark
+hair.
+
+"Serge!"  cried Mademoiselle de Cernay, clinging to him whom she loved so
+fondly.
+
+But the Prince was as quickly calmed as he had been carried away.  He
+gently put Jeanne aside.
+
+"You see," he said with a smile, "how unreasonable we are and how easily
+we might commit an irreparable folly.  And yet our means will not allow
+us."
+
+"In mercy do not leave me!"  pleaded Jeanne, in a tone of despair.  "You
+love me!  I feel it; everything tells me so!  And you would desert me
+because you are poor and I am not rich.  Is a man ever poor when he has
+two arms?  Work."
+
+The word was uttered by Jeanne with admirable energy.  She possessed the
+courage to overcome every difficulty.
+
+Serge trembled.  For the second time he felt touched to the very soul by
+this strange girl.  He understood that he must not leave her with the
+slightest hope of encouragement, but throw ice on the fire which was
+devouring her.
+
+"My dear Jeanne," he said, with affectionate sweetness, "you are talking
+nonsense.  Remember this, that for Prince Panine there are only three
+social'conditions possible: to be rich, a soldier, or a priest.  I have
+the choice.  It is for you to decide."
+
+This put an end to Mademoiselle de Cernay's resistance.  She felt how
+useless was further argument, and falling on a sofa, crushed with grief,
+cried:
+
+"Ah! this time it is finished; I am lost!"
+
+Panine, then, approaching her, insinuating and supple, like the serpent
+with the first woman, murmured in her ear, as if afraid lest his words,
+in being spoken aloud, would lose their subtle venom:
+
+"No, you are not lost.  On the contrary, you are saved, if you will only
+listen to and understand me.  What are we, you and I?  You, a child
+adopted by a generous woman; I, a ruined nobleman.  You live in luxury,
+thanks to Madame Desvarennes's liberality.  I can scarcely manage to keep
+myself with the help of my family.  Our present is precarious, our future
+hazardous.  And, suddenly, fortune is within our grasp.  We have only to
+stretch out our hands, and with one stroke we gain the uncontested power
+which money brings!
+
+"Riches, that aim of humanity!  Do you understand?  We, the weak and
+disdained, become strong and powerful.  And what is necessary to gain
+them?  A flash of sense; a minute of wisdom; forget a dream and accept a
+reality."
+
+Jeanne waited till he had finished.  A bitter smile played on her lips.
+Henceforth she would believe in no one.  After listening to what Serge
+had just said, she could listen to anything.
+
+"So," said she, "the dream is love; the reality is interest.  And is it
+you who speak thus to me?  You, for whom I was prepared to endure any
+sacrifice!  You, whom I would have served on my knees!  And what reason
+do you give to justify your conduct?  Money!  Indispensable and stupid
+money!  Nothing but money!  But it is odious, infamous, low!"
+
+Serge received this terrible broadside of abuse without flinching.  He
+had armed himself against contempt, and was deaf to all insults.  Jeanne
+went on with increasing rage:
+
+"Micheline has everything: family, fortune, and friends, and she is
+taking away my one possession--your love.  Tell me that you love her!
+It will be more cruel but less vile!  But no, it is not possible!
+You gave way to temptation at seeing her so rich; you had a feeling of
+covetousness, but you will become yourself again and will act like an
+honest man.  Think, that in my eyes you are dishonoring yourself!
+Serge, answer me!"
+
+She clung to him again, and tried to regain him by her ardor, to warm him
+with her passion.  He remained unmoved, silent, and cold.  Her conscience
+rebelled.
+
+"Well, then," said she, "marry her."
+
+She remained silent and sullen, seeming to forget he was there.  She was
+thinking deeply.  Then she walked wildly up and down the room, saying:
+
+"So, it is that implacable self-interest with which I have just come in
+contact, which is the law of the world, the watchword of society!  So,
+in refusing to share the common folly, I risk remaining in isolation,
+and I must be strong to make others stand in awe of me.  Very well, then,
+I shall henceforth act in such a manner as to be neither dupe nor victim.
+In future, everything will be: self, and woe to him who hinders me.  That
+is the morality of the age, is it not?"
+
+And she laughed nervously.
+
+"Was I not stupid?  Come, Prince, you have made me clever.  Many thanks
+for the lesson; it was difficult, but I shall profit by it."
+
+The Prince, astonished at the sudden change, listened to Jeanne with
+stupor.  He did not yet quite understand.
+
+"What do you intend to do?"  asked he.
+
+Jeanne looked at him with a fiendish expression.  Her eyes sparkled like
+stars; her white teeth shone between her lips.
+
+"I intend," replied she, "to lay the foundation of my power, and to
+follow your advice, by marrying a millionaire!"
+
+She ran to the window, and, looking out toward the shady garden, called:
+
+"Monsieur Cayrol!"
+
+Serge, full of surprise, and seized by a sudden fit of jealousy, went
+toward her as if to recall her.
+
+"Jeanne," said he, vaguely holding out his arms.
+
+"Well!  what is it?"  she asked, with crushing haughtiness.  "Are you
+frightened at having gained your cause so quickly?"
+
+And as Serge did not speak:
+
+"Come," added she, "you will have a handsome fee; Micheline's dower will
+be worth the trouble you have had."
+
+They heard Cayrol's hurried steps ascending the stairs.
+
+"You have done me the honor to call me, Mademoiselle," said he, remaining
+on the threshold of the drawing-room.  "Am I fortunate enough at length
+to have found favor in your eyes?"
+
+"Here is my hand," said Mademoiselle de Cernay, simply tendering him her
+white taper fingers, which he covered with kisses.
+
+Madame Desvarennes had come in behind the banker.  She uttered a joyous
+exclamation.
+
+"Cayrol, you shall not marry Jeanne for her beauty alone.  I will give
+her a dower."
+
+Micheline fell on her companion's neck.  It was a concert of
+congratulations.  But Jeanne, with a serious air, led Cayrol aside:
+
+"I wish to act honestly toward you, sir; I yield to the pleading of which
+I am the object.  But you must know that my sentiments do not change so
+quickly.  It is my hand only which I give you today."
+
+"I have not the conceitedness to think that you love me, Mademoiselle,"
+said Cayrol, humbly.  "You give me your hand; it will be for me to gain
+your heart, and with time and sincere affection I do not despair of
+winning it.  I am truly happy, believe me, for the favor you do me, and
+all my life long shall be spent in proving my gratitude to you."
+
+Jeanne was moved; she glanced at Cayrol, and did not think him so common-
+looking as usual.  She resolved to do all in her power to like this good
+man.
+
+Serge, in taking leave of Madame Desvarennes, said:
+
+"In exchange for all the happiness which you give me, I have only my life
+to offer; accept it, Madame, it is yours."
+
+The mistress looked at the Prince deeply; then, in a singular tone, said:
+
+"I accept it; from to-day you belong to me."
+
+Marechal took Pierre by the arm and led him outside.
+
+"The Prince has just uttered words which remind me of Antonio saying to
+the Jew in 'The Merchant of Venice': 'Thy ducats in exchange for a pound
+of my flesh.'  Madame Desvarennes loves her daughter with a more
+formidable love than Shylock had for his gold.  The Prince will do well
+to be exact in his payments of the happiness which he has promised."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+A PLEASANT UNDERSTANDING
+
+The day following this memorable evening, Pierre left for Algeria,
+notwithstanding the prayers of Madame Desvarennes who wished to keep him
+near her.  He was going to finish his labors.  He promised to return in
+time for the wedding.  The mistress, wishing to give him some
+compensation, offered him the management of the mills at Jouy, saying:
+
+"So that if you are not my son, you will be at least my partner.  And if
+I do not leave you all my money at my death, I can enrich you during my
+life."
+
+Pierre would not accept.  He would not have it said that in wishing to
+marry Micheline he had tried to make a speculation.  He wished to leave
+that house where he had hoped to spend his life, empty-handed, so that no
+one could doubt that it was the woman he loved in Micheline and not the
+heiress.  He had been offered a splendid appointment in Savoy as manager
+of some mines; he would find there at the same time profit and happiness,
+because there were interesting scientific studies to be made in order to
+enable him to carry on the work creditably.  He resolved to throw himself
+heart and soul into the work and seek forgetfulness in study.
+
+In the mansion of the Rue Saint-Dominique the marriage preparations were
+carried on with great despatch.  On the one side the Prince, and on the
+other Cayrol, were eager for the day: the one because he saw the
+realization of his ambitious dreams, the other because he loved so madly.
+Serge, gracious and attentive, allowed himself to be adored by Micheline,
+who was never weary of listening to and looking at him whom she loved.
+It was a sort of delirium that had taken possession of the young girl.
+Madame Desvarennes looked on the metamorphosis in her child with
+amazement.  The old Micheline, naturally indolent and cold, just living
+with the indolence of an odalisque stretched on silk cushions, had
+changed into a lively, loving sweetheart, with sparkling eyes and
+cheerful lips.  Like those lowers which the sun causes to bloom and be
+fragrant, so Micheline under a look from Serge became animated and grown
+handsomer.
+
+The mother looked on with bitterness; she spoke of this transformation in
+her child with ironical disdain, She was sure Micheline was not in
+earnest; only a doll was capable of falling in love so foolishly with a
+man for his personal beauty.  For to her mind the Prince was as regards
+mental power painfully deficient.  No sense, dumb as soon as the
+conversation took a serious turn, only able to talk dress like a woman,
+or about horses like a jockey.  And it was such a person upon whom
+Micheline literally doted!  The mistress felt humiliated; she dared not
+say anything to her daughter, but she relieved herself in company of
+Marechal, whose discretion she could trust, and whom she willingly called
+the tomb of her secrets.
+
+Marechal listened patiently to the confidences of Madame Desvarennes,
+and he tried to fight against the growing animosity of the mistress
+toward her future son-in-law.  Not that he liked the Prince--he was too
+much on Pierre's side to be well disposed toward Panine; but with his
+good sense he saw that Madame Desvarennes would find it advantageous to
+overcome her feeling of dislike.  And when the mistress, so formidable
+toward everybody except her daughter, cried with rage:
+
+"That Micheline!  I have just seen her again in the garden, hanging on
+the arm of that great lanky fellow, her eyes fixed on his like a lark
+fascinated by a looking-glass.  What on earth has happened to her that
+she should be in such a state?"
+
+Marechal interrupted her gently.
+
+"All fair people are like that," he affirmed with ironical gayety.  "You
+cannot understand it, Madame; you are dark."
+
+Then Madame Desvarennes became angry.
+
+"Be quiet," she said, "you are stupid!  She ought to have a shower-bath!
+She is mad!"
+
+As for Cayrol he lived in ecstasy, like an Italian kneeling before a
+madonna.  He had never been so happy; he was overwhelmed with joy.  Until
+then, he had only thought of business matters.  To be rich was the aim of
+his life; and now he was going to work for happiness.  It was all
+pleasure for him.  He was not blase; he amused himself like a child,
+adorning the rooms which were to be occupied by Jeanne.  To his mind
+nothing was too expensive for the temple of his goddess, as he said, with
+a loud laugh which lighted up his whole face.  And when he spoke of his
+love's future nest, he exclaimed, with a voluptuous shiver:
+
+"It is charming; a veritable little paradise!"  Then the financier shone
+through all, and he added:
+
+"And I know what it costs!"
+
+But he did not grudge his money.  He knew he would get the interest of it
+back.  On one subject he was anxious--Mademoiselle de Cernay's health.
+Since the day of their engagement, Jeanne had become more serious and
+dull.  She had grown thin and her eyes were sunken as if she wept in
+secret.  When he spoke of his fears to Madame Desvarennes, the latter
+said:
+
+"These young girls are so senseless.  The notion of marriage puts them in
+such an incomprehensible state!  Look at my daughter.  She chatters like
+a magpie and skips about like a kid.  She has two glow-worms under her
+eyelids!  As to Jeanne, that's another affair; she has the matrimonial
+melancholy, and has the air of a young victim.  Leave them alone; it will
+all come right.  But you must admit that the gayety of the one is at
+least as irritating as the languor of the other!"
+
+Cayrol, somewhat reassured by this explanation, and thinking, like her,
+that it was the uncertainties of marriage which were troubling Jeanne,
+no longer attached any importance to her sad appearance.  Micheline and
+Serge isolated themselves completely.  They fled to the garden as soon as
+any one ventured into the drawing room, to interrupt their tete-a-tete.
+If visitors came to the garden they took refuge in the conservatory.
+
+This manoeuvre pleased Serge, because he always felt uncomfortable in
+Jeanne's presence.  Mademoiselle de Cernay had a peculiar wrinkle on her
+brow whenever she saw Micheline passing before her hanging on the arm of
+the Prince, which tormented him.  They were obliged to meet at table in
+the evening, for Serge and Cayrol dined at the Rue Saint-Dominique.
+The Prince talked in whispers to Micheline, but every now and then he was
+obliged to speak to Jeanne.  These were painful moments to Serge.  He was
+always in dread of some outburst, knowing her ardent and passionate
+nature.  Thus, before Jeanne, he made Micheline behave in a less
+demonstrative manner.  Mademoiselle Desvarennes was proud of this
+reserve, and thought it was tact and good breeding on the part of the
+Prince, without doubting that what she thought reserve in the man of the
+world was the prudence of an anxious lover.
+
+Jeanne endured the tortures of Hades.  Too proud to say anything after
+the explanation she had had with Serge, too much smitten to bear calmly
+the sight of her rival's happiness, she saw draw near with deep horror
+the moment when she would belong to the man whom she had determined to
+marry although she did not love him.  She once thought of breaking off
+the engagement; as she could not belong to the man whom she adored,
+at least she could belong to herself.  But the thought of the struggle
+she would have to sustain with those who surrounded her, stopped her.
+What would she do at Madame Desvarennes's?  She would have to witness
+the happiness of Micheline and Serge.  She would rather leave the house.
+
+With Cayrol at least she could go away; she would be free, and perhaps
+the esteem which she would surely have for her husband would do instead
+of love.  Sisterly or filial love, in fact the least affection, would
+satisfy the poor man, who was willing to accept anything from Jeanne.
+And she would not have that group of Serge and Micheline before her eyes,
+always walking round the lawn and disappearing arm in arm down the narrow
+walks.  She would not have the continual murmur of their love-making in
+her ears, a murmur broken by the sound of kisses when they reached shady
+corners.
+
+One evening, when Serge appeared in the little drawing-room of the Rue
+Saint-Dominique, he found Madame Desvarennes alone.  She looked serious,
+as if same important business were pending.  She stood before the
+fireplace; her hands crossed behind her back like a man.  Apparently,
+she had sought to be alone.  Cayrol, Jeanne, and Micheline were in the
+garden.  Serge felt uneasy.  He had a presentiment of trouble.
+But determined to make the best of it, whatever it might be, he looked
+pleasant and bowed to Madame Desvarennes, without his face betraying his
+uneasiness.
+
+"Good-day, Prince; you are early this evening, though not so early as
+Cayrol; but then he does not quite know what he is doing now.  Sit down,
+I want to talk to you.  You know that a young lady like Mademoiselle
+Desvarennes cannot get married without her engagement being much talked
+about.  Tongues have been very busy, and pens too.  I have heard a lot of
+scandal and have received heaps of anonymous letters about you."
+
+Serge gave a start of indignation.
+
+"Don't be uneasy," continued the mistress.  "I did not heed the tales,
+and I burned the letters.  Some said you were a dissolute man, capable of
+anything to gain your object.  Others insinuated that you were not a
+Prince, that you were not a Pole, but the son of a Russian coachman and a
+little dressmaker of Les Ternes; that you had lived at the expense of
+Mademoiselle Anna Monplaisir, the star of the Varietes Theatre, and that
+you were bent on marrying to pay your debts with my daughter's money."
+
+Panine, pale as death, rose up and said, in a stifled voice:
+
+"Madame!"
+
+"Sit down, my dear child," interrupted the mistress.  "If I tell you
+these things, it is because I have the proofs that they are untrue.
+Otherwise, I would not have given myself the trouble to talk to you about
+them.  I would have shown you the door and there would have been an end
+of it.  Certainly, you are not an angel; but the peccadillos which you
+have been guilty of are those which one forgives in a son, and which in a
+son-in-law makes some mothers smile.  You are a Prince, you are handsome,
+and you have been loved.  You were then a bachelor; and it was your own
+affair.  But now, you are going to be, in about ten days, the husband of
+my daughter, and it is necessary for us to make certain arrangements.
+Therefore, I waited to see you, to speak of your wife, of yourself, and
+of me."
+
+What Madame Desvarennes had just said relieved Serge of a great weight.
+He felt so happy that he resolved to do everything in his power to please
+the mother of his betrothed.
+
+"Speak, Madame," he exclaimed.  "I am listening to you with attention and
+confidence.  I am sure that from you I can only expect goodness and
+sense."
+
+The mistress smiled.
+
+"Oh, I know you have a gilt tongue, my handsome friend, but I don't pay
+myself with words, and I, am not easy to be wheedled."
+
+"Faith," said Serge, "I won't deceive you.  I will try to please you with
+all my heart."
+
+Madame Desvarennes's face brightened as suddenly at these words as a
+landscape, wrapped in a fog, which is suddenly lighted up by the sun.
+
+"Then we shall understand each other," she said.  "For the last fortnight
+we have been busy with marriage preparations, and have not been able to
+think or reason.  Everybody is rambling about here.  Still, we are
+commencing a new life, and I think it is as well to lay the foundation.
+I seem to be drawing up a contract, eh?  What can I do?  It is an old
+business habit.  I like to know how I stand."
+
+"I think it is quite right.  I think, too, that you have acted with great
+delicacy in not imposing your conditions upon me before giving your
+consent."
+
+"Has that made you feel better disposed toward me?  So much the better!"
+said the mistress.  "Because you know that I depend on my daughter, who
+will henceforth depend on you, and it is to my interest that I should be
+in your good graces."
+
+In pronouncing these words with forced cheerfulness, Madame Desvarennes's
+voice trembled slightly.  She knew what an important game she was
+playing, and wished to win it at any price.
+
+"You see," continued she, "I am not an easy woman to deal with.  I am a
+little despotic, I know.  I have been in the habit of commanding during
+the last thirty-five years.  Business was heavy, and required a strong
+will.  I had it, and the habit is formed.  But this strong will, which
+has served me so well in business will, I am afraid, with you, play me
+some trick.  Those who have lived with me a long time know that if I am
+hot-headed I have a good heart.  They submit to my tyranny; but you who
+are a newcomer, how will you like it?"
+
+"I shall do as the others do," said Serge, simply.  "I shall be led,
+and with pleasure.  Think that I have lived for years without kindred,
+without ties--at random; and, believe me, any chain will be light and
+sweet which holds me to any one or anything.  And then," frankly added
+he, changing his tone and looking at Madame Desvarennes with tenderness,
+"if I did not do everything to please you I should be ungrateful."
+
+"Oh!"  cried Madame Desvarennes, "unfortunately that is not a reason."
+
+"Would you have a better one?"  said the young man, in his most charming
+accent.  "If I had not married your daughter for her own sake, I believe
+that I should have married her for yours."  Madame Desvarennes was quite
+pleased, and shaking her finger threateningly at Serge, said:
+
+"Ah, you Pole, you boaster of the North!"
+
+"Seriously," continued Serge, "before I knew I was to be your son-in-law,
+I thought you a matchless woman.  Add to the admiration I had for your
+great qualities the affection which your goodness has inspired, and you
+will understand that I am both proud and happy to have such a mother as
+you."
+
+Madame Desvarennes looked at Panine attentively; she saw he was sincere.
+Then, taking courage, she touched the topic of greatest interest to her.
+"If that is the case, you will have no objections to live with me?"  She
+stopped; then emphasized the words, "With me."
+
+"But was not that understood?"  asked Serge, gayly' "I thought so.  You
+must have seen that I have not been seeking a dwelling for my wife and
+myself.  If you had not made the offer to me, I should have asked you to
+let me stay with you."
+
+Madame Desvarennes broke into such an outburst of joy that she astonished
+Panine.  It was then only that in that pallor, in that sudden trembling,
+in that changed voice, he understood, the immensity of the mother's love
+for her daughter.
+
+"I have everything to gain by that arrangement," continued he.  "My wife
+will be happy at not leaving you, and you will be pleased at my not
+having taken away your daughter.  You will both like me better, and that
+is all I wish."
+
+"How good you are in deciding thus, and how I thank you for it," resumed
+Madame Desvarennes.  "I feared you would have ideas of independence."
+
+"I should have been happy to sacrifice them to you, but I have not even
+that merit."
+
+All that Serge had said had been so open and plain, and expressed with
+such sweetness that, little by little, Madame Desvarennes's prejudices
+disappeared.  He took possession of her as he had done of Micheline,
+and as he did of every one whom he wished to conquer.  His charm was
+irresistible.  He seized on one by the eyes and the ears.  Naturally
+fascinating, moving, captivating, bold, he always preserved his artless
+and tender ways, which made him resemble a young girl.
+
+"I am going to tell you how we shall manage," said the mistress.
+"Foreseeing my daughter's marriage, I have had my house divided into two
+distinct establishments.  They say that life in common with a mother-in-
+law is objectionable to a son-in-law, therefore I wish you to have a home
+of your own.  I know that an old face like mine frightens young lovers.
+I will come to you when you invite me.  But even when I am shut up in my
+own apartments I shall be with my daughter; I shall breathe the same air;
+I shall hear her going and coming, singing, laughing, and I shall say to
+myself, 'It is all right, she is happy.'  That is all I ask.  A little
+corner, whence I can share her life."
+
+Serge took her hand with effusion.
+
+"Don't be afraid; your daughter will not leave you."
+
+Madame Desvarennes, unable to contain her feelings, opened her arms, and
+Serge fell on her breast, like a true son.
+
+"Do you know, I am going to adore you!"  cried Madame Desvarennes,
+showing Panine a face beaming with happiness.
+
+"I hope so," said the young man, gayly.
+
+Madame Desvarennes became thoughtful.
+
+"What a strange thing life is!"  resumed she.  "I did not want you for a
+son-in-law, and now you are behaving so well toward me that I am full of
+remorse.  Oh, I see now what a dangerous man you are, if you captivate
+other women's hearts as you have caught mine."
+
+She looked at the Prince fixedly, and added, in her clear commanding
+voice, with a shade of gayety:
+
+"Now, I hope you will reserve all your powers of charming for my
+daughter.  No more flirting, eh?  She loves you; she would be jealous,
+and you would get into hot water with me!  Let Micheline's life be happy,
+without a cloud-blue, always blue sky!"
+
+"That will be easy," said Serge.  "To be unhappy I should have to seek
+misfortune; and I certainly shall not do that."
+
+He began to laugh.
+
+"Besides, your good friends who criticised so when you gave me
+Micheline's hand would be only too pleased.  I will not give them the
+pleasure of posing as prophets and saying, 'We knew it would be so!'"
+
+"You must forgive them," replied Madame Desvarennes.  "You have made
+enemies.  Without speaking of projects which I had formed, I may say that
+my daughter has had offers from the best folks in Paris; from first-rate
+firms!  Our circle was rather indignant.
+
+"People said: 'Oh, Madame Desvarennes wanted her daughter to be a
+Princess.  We shall see how it will turn out.  Her son-in-law will spend
+her money and spurn her.'  The gossip of disappointed people.  Give them
+the lie; manage that we shall all live together, and we shall be right
+against the world."
+
+"Do you hope it will be so?"
+
+"I am sure of it," answered the mistress, affectionately pressing the
+hand of her future son-in-law.
+
+Micheline entered, anxious at the long interview between Serge and her
+mother.  She saw them hand in hand.  She uttered a joyful cry, and threw
+her arms caressingly round her mother's neck.
+
+"Well! you are agreed?"  she said, making a gracious sign to Serge.
+
+"He has been charming," replied Madame Desvarennes, whispering in her
+daughter's ear.  "He agrees to live in this house, and that quite
+gracefully.  There, child, this is the happiest moment I've had since
+your engagement.  I admit that I regret nothing."
+
+Then, resuming aloud:
+
+"We will leave to-morrow for Cernay, where the marriage shall take place.
+I shall have to order the workmen in here to get ready for your
+reception.  Besides the wedding will be more brilliant in the country.
+We shall have all the work-people there.  We will throw the park open to
+the countryside; it will be a grand fete.  For we are lords of the manor
+there," added she, with pride.
+
+"You are right, mamma; it will be far better," exclaimed Micheline.
+And taking Serge by the hand:
+
+"Come, let us go," said she, and led him into the garden.
+
+And amid the sweet-smelling shrubs they resumed their walk, always the
+same yet ever new, their arms twined round each other, the young girl
+clinging to him whom she loved, and he looking fondly at her, and with
+caressing voice telling her the oft-told tale of love which she was never
+tired of hearing, and which always filled her with thrills of joy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+THE DOUBLE MARRIAGE
+
+The Chateau of Cernay is a vast and beautiful structure of the time of
+Louis XIII.  A walled park of a hundred acres surrounds it, with trees
+centuries old.  A white painted gate separates the avenue from the road
+leading to Pontoise by way of Conflans.  A carpet of grass, on which
+carriages roll as if on velvet, leads up to the park gates.  Before
+reaching, it there is a stone bridge which spans the moat of running
+water.  A lodge of stone, faced with brick, with large windows, rises at
+each corner of this space.
+
+The chateau, surrounded by cleverly arranged trees, stands in the centre,
+on a solid foundation of red granite from the Jura.  A splendid double
+staircase leads to the ground floor as high as an 'entresol'.  A spacious
+hall, rising to the roof of the building, lighted by a window filled with
+old stained glass, first offers itself to the visitor.  A large organ, by
+Cavallie-Col, rears its long brilliant pipes at one end of the hall to a
+level with the gallery of sculptured wood running round and forming a
+balcony on the first floor.  At each corner is a knight in armor, helmet
+on head, and lance in hand, mounted on a charger, and covered with the
+heavy trappings of war.  Cases full of objects of art of great value,
+bookshelves containing all the new books, are placed along the walls.
+A billiard-table and all sorts of games are lodged under the vast
+staircase.  The broad bays which give admission to the reception-rooms
+and grand staircase are closed by tapestry of the fifteenth century,
+representing hunting scenes.  Long cords of silk and gold loop back these
+marvellous hangings in the Italian style.  Thick carpets, into which the
+feet sink, deaden the sound of footsteps.  Spacious divans, covered with
+Oriental materials, are placed round the room.
+
+Over the chimney-piece, which is splendidly carved in woodwork, is a
+looking-glass in the Renaissance style, with a bronze and silver frame,
+representing grinning fawns and dishevelled nymphs.  Benches are placed
+round the hearth, which is large enough to hold six people.  Above the
+divans, on the walls, are large oilpaintings by old masters.  An
+"Assumption," by Jordaens, which is a masterpiece; "The Gamesters," by
+Valentin; "A Spanish Family on Horseback," painted by Velasquez; and the
+marvel of the collection--a "Holy Family," by Francia, bought in Russia.
+Then, lower down, "A Young Girl with a Canary," by Metzu; a "Kermesse,"
+by Braurver, a perfect treasure, glitter, like the gems they are, in the
+midst of panoplies, between the high branches of palm-trees planted in
+enormous delft vases.  A mysterious light filters into that fresh and
+picturesque apartment through the stained-glass windows.
+
+From the hall the left wing is reached, where the reception-rooms are,
+and one's eyes are dazzled by the brightness which reigns there.  It is
+like coming out from a cathedral into broad daylight.  The furniture, of
+gilt wood and Genoese velvet, looks very bright.  The walls are white and
+gold; and flowers are everywhere.  At the end is Madame Desvarennes's
+bedroom, because she does not like mounting stairs, and lives on the
+ground floor.  Adjoining it is a conservatory, furnished as a drawing-
+room, and serving as a boudoir for the mistress of the house.
+
+The dining-room, the gun-room, and the smoking-room are in the right
+wing.  The gun-room deserves a particular description.  Four glass cases
+contain guns of every description and size of the best English and French
+manufacture.  All the furniture is made of stags' horns, covered with
+fox-skins and wolf-skins.  A large rug, formed by four bears' skins, with
+menacing snouts, showing their white teeth at the four corners, is in the
+centre of the room.  On the walls are four paintings by Princeteau,
+admirably executed, and representing hunting scenes.  Low couches, wide
+as beds, covered with gray cloth, invite the sportsmen to rest.  Large
+dressing-rooms, fitted up with hot and cold water, invite them to refresh
+themselves with a bath.  Everything has been done to suit the most
+fastidious taste.  The kitchens are underground.
+
+On the first story are the principal rooms.  Twelve bedrooms, with
+dressing-rooms, upholstered in chintz of charming design.  From these, a
+splendid view of the park and country beyond may be obtained.  In the
+foreground is a piece of water, bathing, with its rapid current, the
+grassy banks which border the wood, while the low-lying branches of the
+trees dip into the flood, on which swans, dazzlingly white, swim in
+stately fashion.  Beneath an old willow, whose drooping boughs form quite
+a vault of pale verdure, a squadron of multicolored boats remain fastened
+to the balustrade of a landing stage.  Through an opening in the trees
+you see in the distance fields of yellow corn, and in the near
+background, behind a row of poplars, ever moving like a flash of silver
+lightning, the Oise flows on between its low banks.
+
+This sumptuous dwelling, on the evening of the 14th of July, was in its
+greatest splendor.  The trees of the park were lit up by brilliant
+Venetian lanterns; little boats glided on the water of the lake carrying
+musicians whose notes echoed through the air.  Under a marquee, placed
+midway in the large avenue, the country lads and lasses were dancing with
+spirit, while the old people, more calm, were seated under the large
+trees enjoying the ample fare provided.  A tremendous uproar of gayety
+reechoed through the night, and the sound of the cornet attracted the
+people to the ball.
+
+It was nine o'clock.  Carriages were fast arriving with guests for the
+mansion.  In the centre of the handsome hall, illuminated with electric
+light, stood Madame Desvarennes in full dress, having put off black for
+one day, doing honor to the arrivals.  Behind her stood Marechal and
+Savinien, like two aides-de-camp, ready, at a sign, to offer their arms
+to the ladies, to conduct them to the drawing-rooms.  The gathering was
+numerous.  Merchant-princes came for Madame Desvarennes's sake; bankers
+for Cayrol's; and the aristocrats and foreign nobility for the Prince's.
+An assemblage as opposed in ideas as in manners: some valuing only money,
+others high birth; all proud and elbowing each other with haughty
+assurance, speaking ill of each other and secretly jealous.
+
+There were heirs of dethroned kings; princes without portions, who were
+called Highness, and who had not the income of their fathers' former
+chamberlains; millionaires sprung from nothing, who made a great show and
+who would have given half of their possessions for a single quartering of
+the arms of these great lords whom they affected to despise.
+
+Serge and Cayrol went from group to group; the one with his graceful and
+delicate elegance; the other with his good-humor, radiant and elated by
+the consciousness of his triumphs.  Herzog had just arrived, accompanied
+by his daughter, a charming girl of sixteen, to whim Marechal had offered
+his arm.  A whispering was heard when Herzog passed.  He was accustomed
+to the effect which he produced in public, and quite calmly congratulated
+Cayrol.
+
+Serge had just introduced Micheline to Count Soutzko, a gray-haired old
+gentleman of military appearance, whose right sleeve was empty.  He was a
+veteran of the Polish wars, and an old friend of Prince Panine's, at
+whose side he had received the wounds which had so frightfully mutilated
+him.  Micheline, smiling, was listening to flattering tales which the old
+soldier was relating about Serge.  Cayrol, who had got rid of Herzog,
+was looking for Jeanne, who had just disappeared in the direction of the
+terrace.
+
+The rooms were uncomfortably warm, and many of the visitors had found
+their way to the terraces.  Along the marble veranda, overlooking the
+lake, chairs had been placed.  The ladies, wrapped in their lace scarfs,
+had formed into groups and were enjoying the delights of the beautiful
+evening.  Bursts of subdued laughter came from behind fans, while the
+gentlemen talked in whispers.  Above all this whispering was heard the
+distant sound of the cornet at the peasants' ball.
+
+Leaning over the balustrade, in a shady corner, far from the noise which
+troubled him and far from the fete which hurt him, Pierre was dreaming.
+His eyes were fixed on the illuminations in the park, but he did not see
+them.  He thought of his vanished hopes.  Another was beloved by
+Micheline, and in a few hours he would take her away, triumphant and
+happy.  A great sadness stole over the young man's spirit; he was
+disgusted with life and hated humanity.  What was to become of him now?
+His life was shattered; a heart like his could not love twice, and
+Micheline's image was too deeply engraven on it for it ever to be
+effaced.  Of what use was all the trouble he had taken to raise himself
+above others?  A worthless fellow had passed that way and Micheline had
+yielded to him.  Now it was all over!
+
+And Pierre asked himself if he had not taken a wrong view of things, and
+if it was not the idle and good-for-nothing fellows who were more prudent
+than he.  To waste his life in superhuman works, to tire his mind in
+seeking to solve great problems, and to attain old age without other
+satisfaction than unproductive honors and mercenary rewards.  Those who
+only sought happiness and joy--epicureans who drive away all care, all
+pain, and only seek to soften their existence, and brighten their
+horizon--were they not true sages?  Death comes so quickly!  And it is
+with astonishment that one perceives when the hour is at hand, that one
+has not lived!  Then the voice of pride spoke to him: what is a man who
+remains useless, and does not leave one trace of his passage through the
+world by works or discoveries?  And, in a state of fever, Pierre said to
+himself:
+
+"I will throw myself heart and soul into science; I will make my name
+famous, and I will make that ungrateful child regret me.  She will see
+the difference between me and him whom she has chosen.  She will
+understand that he is nobody, except by her money, whereas she would
+have been all by me."
+
+A hand was placed on his shoulder; and Marechal's affectionate voice said
+to him:
+
+"Well! what are you doing here, gesticulating like that?"
+
+Pierre turned round.
+
+Lost in his thoughts he had not heard his friend approaching.
+
+"All our guests have arrived," continued Marechal.  "I have only just
+been able to leave them and to come to you.  I have been seeking you for
+more than a quarter of an hour.  You are wrong to hide yourself; people
+will make remarks.  Come toward the house; it is as well to show yourself
+a little; people might imagine things which they must not imagine."
+
+"Eh! let them think what they like; what does it matter to me?"  said
+Pierre, sadly.  "My life is a blank."
+
+"Your life may be a blank; but it is your duty not to let any one
+perceive it.  Imitate the young Spartan, who smiled although the fox,
+hidden under his cloak, was gnawing his vitals.  Let us avoid ridicule,
+my friend.  In society there is nothing that provokes laughter more than
+a disappointed lover, who rolls his eyes about and looks woe-begone.
+And, then, you-see, suffering is a human law; the world is an arena, life
+is a conflict.  Material obstacles, moral griefs, all hinder and
+overwhelm us.  We must go on, though, all the same, and fight.  Those who
+give in are trodden down!  Come, pull yourself together!"
+
+"And for whom should I fight now?  A moment ago I was making projects,
+but I was a fool!  All hope and ambition are dead in me."
+
+"Ambition will return, you may be sure!  At present you are suffering
+from weariness of mind; but your strength will return.  As to hope, one
+must never despair."
+
+"What can I expect in the future?"
+
+"What?  Why, everything!  In this world all sorts of things happen!"
+said Marechal, gayly.  "Who is to prove that the Princess will not be a
+widow soon?"
+
+Pierre could not help laughing and said,
+
+"Come, don't talk such nonsense!"
+
+"My dear fellow," concluded Marechal, "in life it is only nonsense that
+is common-sense.  Come and smoke a cigar."
+
+They traversed several groups of people and bent their steps in the
+direction of the chateau.  The Prince was advancing toward the terrace,
+with an elegantly dressed and beautiful woman on his arm.  Savinien, in
+the midst of a circle of dandies, was picking the passers-by to pieces in
+his easy-going way.  Pierre and Marechal came behind these young men
+without being noticed.
+
+"Who is that hanging on the arm of our dear Prince?" asked a little fat
+man, girt in a white satin waistcoat, and a spray of white lilac in his
+buttonhole.
+
+"Eh!  Why, Le Brede, my boy, you don't know anything!"  cried Savinien in
+a bantering, jocose tone.
+
+"Because I don't know that lovely fair woman?"  said Le Brede, in a
+piqued voice.  "I don't profess to know the names of all the pretty women
+in Paris!"
+
+"In Paris?  That woman from Paris?  You have not looked at her.  Come,
+open your eyes.  Pure English style, my friend."
+
+The dandies roared with laughter.  They had at once recognized the pure
+English style.  They were not men to be deceived.  One of them, a tall,
+dark fellow, named Du Tremblays, affected an aggrieved air, and said:
+
+"Le Brede, my dear fellow, you make us blush for you!"
+
+The Prince passed, smiling and speaking in a low voice to the beautiful
+Englishwoman, who was resting the tips of her white gloved fingers on her
+cavalier's arm.
+
+"Who is she?"  inquired Le Brede, impatiently.
+
+"Eh, my dear fellow, it is Lady Harton, a cousin of the Prince.  She is
+extremely rich, and owns a district in London."
+
+"They say that a year ago she was very kind to Serge Panine," added Du
+Tremblays, confidentially.
+
+"Why did he not marry her, then, since she is so rich?  He has been quite
+a year in the market, the dear Prince."
+
+"She is married."
+
+"Oh, that is a good reason.  But where is her husband?"
+
+"Shut up in a castle in Scotland.  Nobody ever sees him.  He is out of
+his mind; and is surrounded by every attention."
+
+"And a strait-waistcoat!  Then why does not this pretty woman get a
+divorce?"
+
+"The money belongs to the husband."
+
+"Really!"
+
+Pierre and Marechal had listened, in silence, to this cool and yet
+terrible conversation.  The group of young men dispersed.  The two
+friends looked at each other.  Thus, then, Serge Panine was judged by his
+companions in pleasure, by the frequenters of the clubs in which he had
+spent a part of his existence.  The Prince being "in the market" was
+obliged to marry a rich woman.  He could not marry Lady Harton, so he
+had sought Micheline.  And the sweet child was the wife of such a man!
+And what could be done?  She loved him!
+
+Madame Desvarennes and Micheline appeared on the terrace.  Lady Harton
+pointed to the bride with her fan.  The Prince, leaving his companion,
+advanced toward Micheline.
+
+"One of my English relatives, a Polish lady, married to Lord Harton,
+wishes to be introduced to you," said Serge.  "Are you agreeable?"
+
+"With all my heart," replied the young wife, looking lovingly at her
+husband.  "All who belong to you are dear to me, you know."
+
+The beautiful Englishwoman approached slowly.
+
+"The Princess Panine!"  said Serge, gravely, introducing Micheline, who
+bowed gracefully.  Then, with a shade of familiarity: "Lady Harton!"
+continued he, introducing his relative.
+
+"I am very fond of your husband, Madame," said the Englishwoman.  "I hope
+you will allow me to love you also; and I beg you to grant me the favor
+of accepting this small remembrance."
+
+While speaking, she unfastened from her wrist a splendid bracelet with
+the inscription, Semper.
+
+Serge frowned and looked stern.  Micheline, lowering her eyes, and awed
+by the Englishwoman's grandeur, timidly said:
+
+"I accept it, Madame, as a token of friendship."
+
+"I think I recognize this bracelet, Madame," observed Serge.
+
+"Yes; you gave it to me," replied Lady Harton, quietly.  "Semper--I beg
+your pardon, Madame, we Poles all speak Latin--Semper means 'Always!'
+It is a great word.  On your wife's arm this bracelet will be well
+placed.  Au revoir, dear Prince.  I wish you every happiness."
+
+And bowing to Micheline with a regal bow, Lady Harton took the arm of a
+tall young man whom she had beckoned, and walked away.
+
+Micheline, amazed, looked at the bracelet sparkling on her white wrist.
+Without uttering a word Serge unfastened it, took it off his wife's arm,
+and advancing on the terrace, with a rapid movement flung it in the
+water.  The bracelet gleamed in the night-air and made a brilliant
+splash; then the water resumed its tranquillity.  Micheline, astonished,
+looked at Serge, who came toward her, and very humbly said:
+
+"I beg your pardon."
+
+The young wife did not answer, but her eyes filled with tears; a smile
+brightened her lips, and hurriedly taking his arm, she led him into the
+drawing-room.
+
+Dancing was going on there.  The young ladies of Pontoise, and the cream
+of Creil, had come to the fete, bent on not losing such an opportunity of
+enjoying themselves.  Under the watchful eyes of their mothers, who,
+decked out in grand array, were seated along the walls, they were
+gamboling, in spite of the stifling heat, with all the impetuosity of
+young provincials habitually deprived of the pleasures of the ballroom.
+Crossing the room, Micheline and Serge reached Madame Desvarennes's
+boudoir.
+
+It was delightfully cool in there.  Cayrol had taken refuge there with
+Jeanne, and Mademoiselle Susanne Herzog.  This young girl felt
+uncomfortable at being a third party with the newly-married couple, and
+welcomed the arrival of the Prince and Micheline with pleasure.  Her
+father had left her for a moment in Cayrol's care; but she had not seen
+him for more than an hour.
+
+"Mademoiselle," said the Prince, gayly, "a little while ago, when I was
+passing through the rooms, I heard these words: 'Loan, discount,
+liquidation.'  Your father must have been there.  Shall I go and seek
+him?"
+
+"I should be very grateful," said the young girl.
+
+"I will go."
+
+And turning lightly on his heels, happy to escape Jeanne's looks, Serge
+reentered the furnace.  At once he saw Herzog seated in the corner of a
+bay-window with one of the principal stock-brokers of Paris.  He was
+speaking.  The Prince went straight up to him.
+
+"Sorry to draw you away from the sweets of conversation," said he,
+smiling; "but your daughter is waiting for you, and is anxious at your
+not coming."
+
+"Faith!  My daughter, yes.  I will come and see you tomorrow," said he to
+his companion.  "We will talk over this association: there is much to be
+gained by it."
+
+The other, a man with a bloated face, and fair Dundreary whiskers, was
+eager to do business with him.  Certainly the affair was good.
+
+"Oh, my dear Prince, I am happy to be alone with you for a moment!"  said
+Herzog, with that familiarity which was one of his means of becoming
+intimate with people.  "I was going to compliment you!  What a splendid
+position you have reached."
+
+"Yes; I have married a charming woman," replied the Prince, coldly.
+
+"And what a fortune!"  insisted the financier.  "Ah, it is worthy of the
+lot of a great lord such as you are!  Oh, you are like those masterpieces
+of art which need a splendidly carved frame!  Well, you have your frame,
+and well gilt too!"
+
+He laughed and seemed pleased at Serge's happiness.  He had taken one of
+his hands and was patting it softly between his own.
+
+"Not a very 'convenient' mother-in-law, for instance," he went on, good-
+naturedly; "but you are so charming!  Only you could have, coaxed Madame
+Desvarennes, and you have succeeded.  Oh!  she likes you, my dear Prince;
+she told me so only a little while ago.  You have won her heart.  I don't
+know how you manage it, but you are irresistible!  By the way, I was not
+there when the marriage contract was read, and I, forgot to ask Cayrol.
+Under what conditions art you married?"
+
+The Prince looked at Herzog with a look that was hardly friendly.  But
+the financier appeared so indifferent, that Serge could not help
+answering him:
+
+"My wife's fortune is settled on herself."
+
+"Ah! ah! that is usual in Normandy!"  replied Herzog with a grave look.
+"I was told Madame Desvarennes was a clever woman and she has proved it.
+And you signed the contract with your eyes shut, my dear Prince.  It is
+perfect, just as a gentleman should do!"
+
+He said this with a good-natured air.  Then, suddenly lifting his eyes,
+and with an ironical smile playing on his lips, he added:
+
+"You are bowled out, my dear fellow, don't you know?"
+
+"Sir!" protested Serge with haughtiness.
+
+"Don't cry out; it is too late, and would be useless," replied the
+financier.  "Let me explain your position to you.  Your hands are tied.
+You cannot dispose of a sou belonging to your wife without her consent.
+It is true, you have influence over her, happily for you.  Still you must
+foresee that she will be guided by her mother.  A strong woman, too,
+the mother!  Ah, Prince, you have allowed yourself to be done completely.
+I would not have thought it of you."
+
+Serge, nonplussed for a moment, regained his self-possession, and looked
+Herzog in the face:
+
+"I don't know what idea you have formed of me, sir, and I don't know what
+object you have in speaking thus to me."
+
+"My interest in you," interrupted the financier.  "You are a charming
+fellow: you please me much.  With your tastes, it is possible that in a
+brief time you may be short of money.  Come and see me: I will put you
+into the way of business.  Au revoir, Prince."
+
+And without giving Serge time to answer him, Herzog reached the boudoir
+where his daughter was waiting with impatience.  Behind him came the
+Prince looking rather troubled.  The financier's words had awakened
+importunate ideas in his mind.  Was it true that he had been duped by
+Madame Desvarennes, and that the latter, while affecting airs of
+greatness and generosity, had tied him like a noodle to her daughter's
+apron-string?  He made an effort to regain his serenity.
+
+"Micheline loves me and all will be well," said he to himself.
+
+Madame Desvarennes joined the young married people.  The rooms were
+clearing by degrees.  Serge took Cayrol apart.
+
+"What are you going to do to-night, my dear fellow?
+
+"You know an apartment has been prepared for you here?"
+
+"Yes, I have already thanked Madame Desvarennes, but I mean to go back to
+Paris.  Our little paradise is prepared for us, and I wish to enter it
+to-night.  I have my carriage and horses here.  I am taking away my wife
+post-haste."
+
+"That is an elopement," said Serge; gayly, "quite in the style of the
+regency!"
+
+"Yes, my dear Prince, that's how we bankers do it," said Cayrol,
+laughing.
+
+Then changing his tone:
+
+"See, I vibrate, I am palpitating.  I am hot and cold by turns.  Just
+fancy, I have never loved before; my heart is whole, and I love to
+distraction!"
+
+Serge instinctively glanced at Jeanne.  She was seated, looking sad and
+tired.
+
+Madame Desvarennes, between Jeanne and Micheline, had her arms twined
+round the two young girls.  Regret filled her eyes.  The mother felt that
+the last moments of her absolute reign were near, and she was
+contemplating with supreme adoration these two children who had grown up
+around her like two fragile and precious flowers.  She was saying to
+them,
+
+"Well, the great day is over.  You are both married.  You don't belong to
+me any longer.  How I shall miss you!  This morning I had two children,
+and now--"
+
+"You have four," interrupted Micheline.  "Why do you complain?"
+
+"I don't complain," retorted Madame Desvarennes, quickly.
+
+"That's right!"  said Micheline, gayly.
+
+Then going toward Jeanne:
+
+"But you are not speaking, you are so quiet; are you ill?"
+
+Jeanne shuddered, and made an effort to soften the hard lines on her
+face.
+
+"It is nothing.  A little fatigue."
+
+"And emotion," added Micheline.  "This morning when we entered the
+church, at the sound of the organ, in the midst of flowers, surrounded by
+all our friends, I felt that I was whiter than my veil.  And the crossing
+to my place seemed so long, I thought I should never get there.  I did
+so, though.  And now everybody calls me 'Madame' and some call me
+'Princess.'  It amuses me!"
+
+Serge had approached.
+
+"But you are a Princess," said he, smiling, "and everybody must call you
+so."
+
+"Oh, not mamma, nor Jeanne, nor you," said the young wife, quickly;
+"always call me Micheline.  It will be less respectful, but it will be
+more tender."
+
+Madame Desvarennes could not resist drawing her daughter once more to her
+heart.
+
+"Dear child," she said with emotion, "you need affection, as flowers need
+the sun!  But I love you, there."
+
+She stopped and added:
+
+"We love you."
+
+And she held out her hand to her son-in-law.  Then changing the subject:
+
+"But I am thinking, Cayrol, as you are returning to Paris, you might take
+some orders for me which I will write out."
+
+"What?  Business?  Even on my wedding-day?"  exclaimed Micheline.
+
+"Eh! my daughter, we must have flour," replied the mistress, laughing.
+"While we are enjoying ourselves Paris eats, and it has a famous
+appetite."
+
+Micheline, leaving her mother, went to her husband.
+
+"Serge, it is not yet late.  Suppose we put in an appearance at the work-
+people's ball?  I promised them, and the good folks will be so happy!"
+
+"As you please.  I am awaiting your orders.  Let us make ourselves
+popular!"
+
+Madame Desvarennes had gone to her room.  Carol took the opportunity of
+telling his coachman to drive round by the park to the door of the little
+conservatory and wait there.  Thus, his wife and he would avoid meeting
+any one, and would escape the leave-taking of friends and the curiosity
+of lockers-on.
+
+Micheline went up to Jeanne, and said:
+
+"As you are going away quietly, dear, I shall not see you again this
+evening.  Adieu!"
+
+And with a happy smile, she kissed her.  Then taking her husband's arm
+she led him toward the park.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+CAYROL'S DISAPPOINTMENT
+
+Jeanne left alone, watched them as they disappeared with the light and
+easy movements of lovers.
+
+Serge, bending toward Micheline, was speaking tenderly.  A rush of bitter
+feeling caused Jeanne's heart to swell.  She was alone, she, while he
+whom she loved-her whole being revolted.  Unhappy one!  Why did she think
+of this man?  Had she the right to do so now?  She no longer belonged to
+herself.  Another, who was as kind to her as Serge was ungrateful, was
+her husband.  She thought thus in sincerity of heart.  She wished to love
+Cayrol.  Alas, poor Jeanne!  She would load him with attentions and
+caresses!  And Serge would be jealous, for he could never have forgotten
+her so soon.
+
+Her thoughts again turned to him whom she wished to forget.  She made an
+effort, but in vain.  Serge was uppermost; he possessed her.  She was
+afraid.  Would she never be able to break off the remembrance?  Would his
+name be ever on her lips, his face ever before her eyes?
+
+Thank heaven!  she was about to leave.  Travelling, and the sight of
+strange places other than those where she had lived near Serge, would
+draw her attention from the persecution she suffered.  Her husband was
+about to take her away, to defend her.  It was his duty, and she would
+help him with energy.  With all the strength of her will she summoned
+Cayrol.  She clung violently to him as a drowning person catches at a
+straw, with the vigor of despair.
+
+There was between Jeanne and Cayrol a sympathetic communication.
+Mentally called by his wife, the husband appeared.
+
+"Ah! at last!"  said she.
+
+Cayrol, surprised at this welcome, smiled.  Jeanne, without noticing,
+added:
+
+"Well, Monsieur; are we leaving soon?"
+
+The banker's surprise increased.  But as this surprise was decidedly an
+agreeable one he did not protest.
+
+"In a moment, Jeanne, dear," he said.
+
+"Why this delay?" asked the young wife, nervously.
+
+"You will understand.  There are more than twenty carriages before the
+front door.  Our coachman is driving round, and we will go out by the
+conservatory door without being seen."
+
+"Very well; we will wait."
+
+This delay displeased Jeanne.  In the ardor of her resolution, in the
+first warmth of her struggle, she wished at once to put space between her
+and Serge.  Unfortunately, Cayrol had thwarted this effort of proud
+revolt.  She was vexed with him.  He, without knowing the motives which
+actuated his wife, guessed that something had displeased her.  He wished
+to change the current of her thoughts.
+
+"You were marvellously beautiful to-night," he said, approaching her
+gallantly.  "You were much admired, and I was proud of you.  If you had
+heard my friends!  It was a concert of congratulations: What a fortunate
+fellow that Cayrol is!  He is rich; he has a charming wife!  You see,
+Jeanne, thanks to you, in the eyes of all, my happiness is complete."
+
+Jeanne frowned, and without answering, shook her head haughtily.  Cayrol
+continued, without noticing this forecast of a storm:
+
+"They envy me; and I can understand it!  I would not change places with
+anybody.  There, our friend Prince Panine is very happy; he has married a
+woman whom he loves and who adores him.  Well, he is not happier than I
+am!"
+
+Jeanne rose abruptly, and gave her husband a terrible look.
+
+"Monsieur!"  she cried with rage.
+
+"I beg your pardon," said Cayrol, humbly; "I appear ridiculous to you,
+but my happiness is stronger than I am, and I cannot hide my joy.  You
+will see that I can be grateful.  I will spend my life in trying to
+please you.  I have a surprise for you to begin with."
+
+"What kind of surprise?"  asked Jeanne, with indifference.
+
+Cayrol rubbed his hands with a mysterious air.  He was enjoying
+beforehand the pleasant surprise he had in store for his wife.
+
+"You think we are going to Paris to spend our honeymoon like ordinary
+folk?"
+
+Jeanne started.  Cayrol seemed unfortunate in his choice of words.
+
+"Well, not at all," continued the banker.  "Tomorrow I leave my offices.
+My customers may say what they like; I will leave my business, and we are
+off."
+
+Jeanne showed signs of pleasure.  A flash of joy lit up her face.  To go
+away, that was rest for her!
+
+"And where shall we go?"
+
+"That is the surprise!  You know that the Prince and his wife intend
+travelling!"
+
+"Yes; but they refused to say where they were going;" interrupted Jeanne,
+with a troubled expression.
+
+"Not to me.  They are going to Switzerland.  Well, we shall join them
+there."
+
+Jeanne arose like a startled deer when it hears the sound of a gun.
+
+"Join them there!"  she exclaimed.
+
+"Yes; to continue the journey together.  A party of four; two newly-
+married couples.  It will be charming.  I spoke to Serge on the subject.
+He objected at first, but the Princess came to my assistance.  And when
+he saw that his wife and I were agreed, he commenced to laugh, and said:
+'You wish it?  I consent.  Don't say anything more!'  It is all very well
+to talk of love's solitude; in about a fortnight, passed tete-a-tete,
+Serge will be glad to have us.  We will go to Italy to see the lakes; and
+there, in a boat, all four, of us will have such pleasant times."
+
+Cayrol might have gone on talking for an hour, but Jeanne was not
+listening.  She was thinking.  Thus all the efforts which she had decided
+to make to escape from him whom she loved would be useless.  An
+invincible fatality ever brought her toward him whom she was seeking to
+avoid.  And it was her husband who was aiding this inevitable and
+execrable meeting.  A bitter smile played on her lips.  There was
+something mournfully comic in this stubbornness of Cayrol's, in throwing
+her in the way of Serge.
+
+Cayrol, embarrassed by Jeanne's silence, waited a moment.
+
+"What is the matter?"  he asked.  "You are just like the Prince when I
+spoke to him on the subject."
+
+Jeanne turned away abruptly.  Cayrol's comparison was too direct.  His
+blunders were becoming wearisome.
+
+The banker, quite discomfited on seeing the effect of his words,
+continued:
+
+"You object to this journey?  If so, I am willing to give it up."
+
+The young wife was touched by this humble servility.
+
+"Well, yes," she said, softly, "I should be grateful to you."
+
+"I had hoped to please you," said Cayrol.  "It is for me to beg pardon
+for having succeeded so badly.  Let us remain in Paris.  It does not
+matter to me what place we are in!  Being near to you is all I desire."
+
+He approached her, and, with beaming eyes, added:
+
+"You are so beautiful, Jeanne; and I have loved you so long a time!"
+
+She moved away, full of a vague dread.  Cayrol, very excitedly, put her
+cloak round her shoulders, and looking toward the door, added:
+
+"The carriage is there, we can go now."
+
+Jeanne, much troubled, did not rise.
+
+"Wait another minute," said she.
+
+Cayrol smiled constrainedly:
+
+"A little while ago you were hurrying me off."
+
+It was true.  But a sudden change had come over Jeanne.  Her energy had
+given way.  She felt very weary.  The idea of going away with Cayrol, and
+of being alone with him in the carriage frightened her.  She looked
+vaguely at her husband, and saw, in a sort of mist, this great fat man,
+with a protruding shirt-front, rolls of red flesh on his neck above his
+collar, long fat ears which only needed gold ear-rings, and his great
+hairy hands, on the finger of one of which shone the new wedding-ring.
+Then, in a rapid vision, she beheld the refined profile, the beautiful
+blue eyes, and the long, fair mustache of Serge.  A profound sadness came
+over the young woman, and tears rushed to her eyes.
+
+"What is the matter with you?  You are crying!"  exclaimed Cayrol,
+anxiously.
+
+"It is nothing; my nerves are shaken.  I am thinking of this chateau
+which bears my name.  Here I spent my youth, and here my father died.
+A thousand ties bind me to this dwelling, and I cannot leave it without
+being overcome."
+
+"Another home awaits you, luxuriantly adorned," murmured Cayrol, "and
+worthy of receiving you.  It is there you will live henceforth with me,
+happy through me, and belonging to me."
+
+Then, ardently supplicating her, he added:
+
+"Let us go, Jeanne!"
+
+He tried to take her in his arms, but the young wife disengaged herself.
+
+"Leave me alone!"  she said, moving away.
+
+Cayrol looked at her in amazement.
+
+"What is it?  You are trembling and frightened!"
+
+He tried to jest:
+
+"Am I so very terrible, then?  Or is it the idea of leaving here that
+troubles you so much?  If so, why did you not tell me sooner?  I can
+understand things.  Let us remain here for a few days, or as long as you
+like.  I have arranged my affairs so as to be at liberty.  Our little
+paradise can wait for us."
+
+He spoke pleasantly, but with an undercurrent of anxiety.
+
+Jeanne came slowly to him, and calmly taking his hand, said:
+
+"You are very good."
+
+"I am not making any efforts to be so," retorted Cayrol, smiling.  "What
+do I ask?  That you may be happy and satisfied."
+
+"Well, do you wish to please me?"  asked the young wife.
+
+"Yes!"  exclaimed Cayrol, warmly, "tell me how."
+
+"Madame Desvarennes will be very lonely tomorrow when her daughter will
+be gone.  She will need consoling--"
+
+"Ah, ah," said Cayrol, thinking that he understood, "and you would
+like--"
+
+"I would like to remain some time with her.  You could come every day and
+see us.  I would be very grateful to you, and would love you very much!"
+
+"But--but--but--!" exclaimed Cayrol, much confounded, "you cannot mean
+what you say, Jeanne!  What, my dear?  You wish me to return alone to
+Paris to-night?  What would my servants say?  You would expose me to
+ridicule!"
+
+Poor Cayrol made a piteous face.  Jeanne looked at him as she had never
+looked before.  It made his blood boil.
+
+"Would you be so very ridiculous for having been delicate and tender?"
+
+"I don't see what tenderness has to do with it," cried Cayrol; "on the
+contrary!  But I love you.  You don't seem to think it!"
+
+"Prove it," replied Jeanne, more provokingly.
+
+This time Cayrol lost all patience.
+
+"Is it in leaving you that I shall prove it?  Really, Jeanne, I am
+disposed to be kind and to humor your whims, but on condition that they
+are reasonable.  You seem to be making fun of me!  If I give way on such
+important points on the day of our marriage, whither will you lead me?
+No; no!  You are my wife.  The wife must follow her husband; the law says
+so!"
+
+"Is it by law only that you wish to keep me?  Have you forgotten what I
+told you when you made me an offer of marriage?  It is my hand only which
+I give you."
+
+"And I answered you, that it would be my aim to gain your heart.  Well,
+but give me the means.  Come, dear," said the banker in a resolute tone,
+"you take me for a child.  I am not so simple as that!  I know what this
+resistance means; charming modesty so long as it is not everlasting."
+
+Jeanne turned away without answering.  Her face had changed its
+expression; it was hard and determined.
+
+"Really," continued Cayrol, "you would make a saint lose patience.  Come,
+answer me, what does this attitude mean?"
+
+The young wife remained silent.  She felt she could not argue any longer,
+and seeing no way out of her trouble, felt quite discouraged.  Still she
+would not yield.  She shuddered at the very idea of belonging to this
+man; she had never thought of the issue of this brutal and vulgar
+adventure.  Now that she realized it, she felt terribly disgusted.
+
+Cayrol anxiously watched the increasing anguish depicted on his wife's
+face.  He had a presentiment that she was hiding something from him, and
+the thought nearly choked him.  And, with this suspicion, his ingenuity
+came to his aid.  He approached Jeanne, and said, affectionately:
+
+"Come, dear child, we are misleading one another; I in speaking too
+harshly, you in refusing to understand me.  Forget that I am your
+husband; see in me only a friend and open your heart; your resistance
+hides a mystery.  You have had some grief or have been deceived."
+
+Jeanne, softened, said, in a low tone:
+
+"Don't speak to me like that; leave me."
+
+"No," resumed Cayrol, quietly, "we are beginning life; there must be no
+misunderstanding.  Be frank, and you will find me indulgent.  Come, young
+girls are often romantic.  They picture an ideal; they fall in love with
+some one who does not return their love, which is sometimes even unknown
+to him who is their hero.  Then, suddenly, they have to return to a
+reality.  They find themselves face to face with a husband who is not the
+expected Romeo, but who is a good man, devoted, loving, and ready to heal
+the wounds he has not made.  They are afraid of this husband; they
+mistrust him, and will not follow him.  It is wrong, because it is near
+him, in honorable and right existence, that they find peace and
+forgetfulness."
+
+Cayrol's heart was torn by anxiety, and with trembling voice he tried to
+read the effect of his words on Jeanne's features.  She had turned.
+away.  Cayrol bent toward her and said:
+
+"You don't answer me."
+
+And as she still remained silent, he took her hand and forced her to look
+at him.  He saw that her face was covered with tears.  He shuddered, and
+then flew into a terrible passion.
+
+"You are crying!  It is true then?  You have loved?"
+
+Jeanne rose with a bound; she saw her imprudence.  She understood the
+trap he had laid; her cheeks burned.  Drying her tears, she turned toward
+Cayrol, and cried:
+
+"Who has said so?"
+
+"You cannot deceive me," replied the banker, violently.  "I saw it in
+your looks.  Now, I want to know the man's name!"
+
+Jeanne looked him straight in the face.
+
+"Never!"  she said.
+
+"Ah, that is an avowal!"  exclaimed Cayrol.
+
+"You have deceived me unworthily by your pretended kindness," interrupted
+Jeanne, proudly, "I will not say anything more."
+
+Cayrol flew at her--the churl reappeared.  He muttered a fearful oath,
+and seizing her by the arm, shouted:
+
+"Take care!  Don't play with me.  Speak, I insist, or--" and he shook her
+brutally.
+
+Jeanne, indignant, screamed and tore herself away from him.
+
+"Leave me," she said, "you fill me with horror!"
+
+The husband, beside himself, pale as death and trembling convulsively,
+could not utter a word, and was about to rush upon her when the door
+opened, and Madame Desvarennes appeared, holding in her hand the letters
+which she had written for Cayrol to take back to Paris.  Jeanne uttered a
+cry of joy, and with a bound threw herself into the arms of her who had
+been a mother to her.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+CONFESSION
+
+Madame Desvarennes understood the situation at a glance.  She beheld
+Cayrol livid, tottering, and excited.  She felt Jeanne trembling on her
+breast; she saw something serious had occurred.  She calmed herself and
+put on a cold manner to enable her the better to suppress any resistance
+that they might offer.
+
+"What is the matter?"  she asked, looking severely at Cayrol.
+
+"Something quite unexpected," replied the banker, laughing nervously.
+"Madame refuses to follow me."
+
+"And for what reason?"  she asked.
+
+"She dare not speak!"  Cayrol resumed, whose excitement increased as he
+spoke.  "It appears she has in her heart an unhappy love!  And as I do
+not resemble the dreamed-of type, Madame has repugnances.  But you
+understand the affair is not going to end there.  It is not usual to come
+and say to a husband, twelve hours after marriage, 'Sir, I am very sorry,
+but I love somebody else!'  It would be too convenient.  I shall not lend
+myself to these whims."
+
+"Cayrol, oblige me by speaking in a, lower tone," said Madame
+Desvarennes, quietly.  "There is some misunderstanding between you and
+this child."
+
+The husband shrugged his broad shoulders.
+
+"A misunderstanding?  Faith!  I think so!  You have a delicacy of
+language which pleases me!  A misunderstanding!  Say rather a shameful
+deception!  But I want to know the gentleman's name.  She will have to
+speak.  I am not a scented, educated gentleman.  I am a peasant, and if I
+have to--"
+
+"Enough," said Madame Desvarennes, sharply tapping with the tips of her
+fingers Cayrol's great fist which he held menacingly like a butcher about
+to strike.  Then, taking him quietly aside toward the window, she added:
+
+"You are a fool to go on like this!  Go to my room for a moment.  To you,
+now, she will not say anything; to me she will confide all and we shall
+know what to do."
+
+Cayrol's face brightened.
+
+"You are right," he said.  "Yes, as ever, you are right.  You must excuse
+rile, I do not know how to talk to women.  Rebuke her and put a little
+sense in her head.  But don't leave her; she is fit to commit any folly."
+
+Madame Desvarennes smiled.
+
+"Be easy," she answered.
+
+And making a sign to Cayrol, who was leaving the room, she returned to
+Jeanne.
+
+"Come, my child, compose yourself.  We are alone and you will tell me
+what happened.  Among women we understand each other.  Come, you were
+frightened, eh?"
+
+Jeanne was one petrified, immovable, and dumb, she fixed her eyes on a
+flower which was hanging from a vase.  This red flower fascinated her.
+She could not take her eyes off it.  Within her a persistent thought
+recurred: that of her irremediable misfortune.  Madame Desvarennes looked
+at her for a moment; then, gently touching her shoulder, resumed;
+
+"Won't you answer me?  Have you not confidence in me?  Have I not brought
+you up?  And if you are not born of me, have not the tenderness and care
+I have lavished upon you made me your real mother?"
+
+Jeanne did not answer, but her eyes filled with tears;
+
+"You know that I love you," continued the mistress.  "Come, come to my
+arms as you used to do when you were little and were suffering.  Place
+your head thereon my heart and let your tears flow.  I see they are
+choking you."
+
+Jeanne could no longer resist, and falling on her knees beside Madame
+Desvarennes, she buried her face in the silky and scented folds of her
+dress like a frightened bird that flies to the nest and hides itself
+under the wings of its mother.
+
+This great and hopeless grief was to the mistress a certain proof that
+Cayrol was right.  Jeanne had loved and still loved another man than her
+husband.  But why had she not said anything, and why had she allowed
+herself to be married to the banker?  She had resisted, she remembered
+now.  She had struggled, and the refusals they had put down to pride they
+must now attribute to passion.
+
+She did not wish to be separated from him whom she loved.  Hence the
+struggle that had ended in her abandoning her hand to Cayrol, perhaps in
+a moment of despair and discouragement.  But why had he whom she loved
+not married her?  What obstacle had arisen between him and the young
+girl?  Jeanne, so beautiful, and dowered by Madame Desvarennes, who then
+could have hesitated to ask her hand?
+
+Perhaps he whom Jeanne loved was unworthy of her?  No!  She would not
+have chosen him.  Perhaps he was not free to marry?  Yes, it must be
+that.  Some married man, perhaps!  A scoundrel who did not mind breaking
+a young girl's heart!  Where had she met him?  In society at her house in
+the Rue Saint-Dominique, perhaps!  Who could tell?  He very likely still
+continued to come there.  At the thought Madame Desvarennes grew angry.
+She wished to know the name of the man so that she might have an
+explanation with him, and tell him what she thought of his base conduct.
+The gentleman should have respectable, well-educated girls to trifle
+with, should he?  And he risked nothing!  He should be shown to the door
+with all honors due to his shameful conduct.
+
+Jeanne was still weeping silently at Madame Desvarennes's knee.  The
+latter raised her head gently and wiped away the tears with her lace
+pocket-handkerchief.
+
+"Come, my child!  all this deluge means nothing.  You must make up your
+mind.  I can understand your hiding anything from your husband, but not
+from me!  What is your lover's name?"
+
+This question so simply put, threw a faint light on Jeanne's troubled
+brain.  She saw the danger she was running.  To speak before Madame
+Desvarennes!  To tell the name of him who had been false to her!
+To her!  Was it possible?  In a moment she understood that she was about
+to destroy Micheline and Serge.  Her conscience revolted and she would
+not.  She raised herself and looking at Madame Desvarennes with still
+frightened eyes,
+
+"For pity's sake, forget my tears!  Don't believe what my husband has
+told you.  Never seek to know.  Remain ignorant as you are on the
+subject!"
+
+"Then he whom you love is related to me, as: you wish to hide his name
+even from me," said Madame Desvarennes with instinctive anguish.
+
+She was silent.  Her eyes became fixed.  They looked without seeing.  She
+was thinking.
+
+"I beseech you," cried Jeanne, madly placing her hands before Madame
+Desvarennes's face as if to check her scrutiny.
+
+"If I had a, son," continued the mistress, "I would believe--" Suddenly
+she ceased speaking; she became pale, and bending toward Jeanne, she
+looked into her very soul.
+
+"Is it--"she began.
+
+"No!  no!"  interrupted Jeanne, terrified at seeing that the mistress had
+found out the truth.
+
+"You deny it before I have pronounced the name?"  said Madame Desvarennes
+in a loud voice.  "You read it then on my lips?  Unhappy girl!  The man
+whom you love is the husband of my daughter!"
+
+My daughter!  The accent with which Madame Desvarennes pronounced the
+word "my" was full of tragical power.  It revealed the mother capable of
+doing anything to defend the happiness of the child whom she adored.
+Serge had calculated well.  Between Jeanne and Micheline, Madame
+Desvarennes would not hesitate.  She would have allowed the world to
+crumble away to make of its ruins a shelter where her daughter would be
+joyous and happy.
+
+Jeanne had fallen back overwhelmed.  The mistress raised her roughly.
+She had no more consideration for her.  It was necessary that she should
+speak.  Jeanne was the sole witness, and if the truth had to be got by
+main force she should be made to speak it.
+
+"Ah, forgive me!"  moaned the young girl.
+
+"It is not a question of that!  In one word, answer me: Does he love
+you?"
+
+"Do I know?"
+
+"Did he tell you he did?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And he has married Micheline!" exclaimed Madame Desvarennes, with a
+fearful gesture.  "I distrusted him.  Why did I not obey my instinct?"
+
+And she began walking about like a lioness in a cage.  Then, suddenly
+stopping and placing herself before Jeanne, she continued:
+
+"You must help me to save Micheline!"
+
+She thought only of her own flesh and blood.  Without hesitation,
+unconsciously, she abandoned the other--the child of adoption.  She
+claimed the safety of her daughter as a debt.
+
+"What has she to fear?"  asked Jeanne, bitterly.  "She triumphs, as she
+is his wife."
+
+"If he were to abandon her," said the mother with anguish.  Then,
+reflecting: "Still, he has sworn to me that he loved her."
+
+"He lied!"  cried Jeanne, with rage.  "He wanted Micheline for her
+fortune!"
+
+"But why that?"  inquired Madame Desvarennes, menacingly.  "Is she not
+pretty enough to have pleased him?  Do you think that you are the only
+one to be loved?"
+
+"If I had been rich he would have married me!", replied Jeanne,
+exasperated.
+
+She had risen in revolt.  They were treading too heavily on her.  With a
+ferocious cry of triumph; she added:
+
+"The night he used his influence with me to get me to marry Cayrol, he
+assured me so on his word of honor!"
+
+"Honor!"  ironically repeated Madame Desvarennes, overwhelmed.  "How he
+has deceived us all!  But what can I do?  What course can I take?  A
+separation?  Micheline would not consent.  She loves him."
+
+And, in an outburst of fury, she cried:
+
+"Is it possible that that stupid girl loves that worthless dandy?  And
+she has my blood in her veins!  If she knew the truth she would die!"
+
+"Am I dead?"  asked Jeanne, gloomily.
+
+"You have an energetic nature," retorted the mistress, compassionately;
+"but she is so weak, so gentle!  Ah! Jeanne, think what I have been to
+you; raise some insurmountable barrier between yourself and Serge!
+
+"Go back to your husband.  You would not go with him a little while ago.
+It was folly.  If you separate from Cayrol, you will not be able to keep
+away Serge, and you will take my daughter's husband from her!"
+
+"Ah!  you think only of her!  Her, always!  She above all!"  cried
+Jeanne, with rage.  "But me, I exist, I count, I have the right to be
+protected, of being happy!  And you wish me to sacrifice myself, to give
+myself up to this man, whom I do not love, and who terrifies me?"
+
+This time the question was plainly put.  Madame Desvarennes became
+herself.  She straightened her figure, and in her commanding voice whose
+authority no one resisted, said:
+
+"What then?  You wish to be separated from him?  To regain your liberty
+at the price of scandal?  And what liberty?  You will be repulsed,
+disdained.  Believe me, impose silence on your heart and listen to your
+reason.  Your husband is a good, loyal man.  If you cannot love him, he
+will command your respect.  In marrying him, you have entered into
+engagements toward him.  Fulfil them; it is your duty."
+
+Jeanne felt overpowered and vanquished.  "But what will my life be?"  she
+groaned.
+
+"That of an honest woman," replied Madame Desvarennes, with true
+grandeur.  "Be a wife; God will make you a mother, and you will be
+saved."
+
+Jeanne bowed herself at these words.  She no longer felt in them the
+selfishness of the mother.  What the mistress now said was sincere and
+true.  It was no longer her agitated and alarmed heart that inspired her;
+it was her conscience, calm and sincere.
+
+"Very well; I will obey you," said the young wife, simply.  "Kiss me
+then, mother."
+
+She bent her brow, and Madame Desvarennes let tears of gratitude and
+admiration fall on it.  Then Jeanne went of her own accord to the room
+door.
+
+"Come, Monsieur," called she to Cayrol.
+
+The husband, grown cooler while waiting, and troubled at the length of
+the interview, showed his anxious face on the threshold.  He saw Madame
+Desvarennes grave, and Jeanne collected.  He dared not speak.
+
+"Cayrol, everything is explained," said the mistress.  "You have nothing
+to fear from him whom you suspected.  He is separated from Jeanne
+forever, And; besides, nothing has passed between him and her who is your
+wife that could arouse your jealousy.  I will not tell you the name of
+this man now.  But if perchance he by some impossibility reappeared and
+threatened your happiness, I would myself--you understand, me?--point him
+out to you!"
+
+Cayrol remained thinking for, a moment; then addressing Madame
+Desvarennes, replied:
+
+"It is well.  I have confidence in you."
+
+Then turning toward Jeanne, he added:
+
+"Forgive me and let everything be forgotten."
+
+The mistress's face beamed with joy, as she followed their departing
+figures with her eyes, and murmured:
+
+"Brave hearts!"
+
+Then, changing her expression:
+
+"Now for the other one!"  exclaimed she.
+
+And she went out on to the terrace.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+THE FETE
+
+The air was mild, the night clear and bright.  Cayrol's carriage rolled
+rapidly along the broad avenue of the park shadowed by tall trees, the
+lanterns throwing, as they passed, their quivering light on the thickets.
+The rumbling carriages took the last guests to the railway station.  It
+was past midnight.  A nightingale began singing his song of love to the
+stars.
+
+Madame Desvarennes mechanically stopped to listen.  A sense of sorrow
+came over this mother who was a prey to the most cruel mental anguish.
+She thought that she could have been very happy on that splendid night,
+if her heart had been full of quietude and serenity.  Her two daughters
+were married; her last task was accomplished.  She ought to have nothing
+to do but enjoy life after her own fashioning, and be calm and satisfied.
+Instead of that, here were fear and dissimulation taking possession of
+her mind; and an ardent, pitiless struggle beginning against the man who
+had deceived her daughter and lied to her.  The bark which carried her
+fortune, on reaching port, had caught fire, and it was necessary to begin
+laboring again amid cares and pains.
+
+A dull rage filled her heart.  To have so surely built up the edifice of
+her happiness, to have embellished it every hour, and then to see an
+intruder audaciously taking possession of it, and making his despotic and
+hateful authority prevail!  And what could she do against this new
+master?  Nothing.  He was marvellously protected by Micheline's mad love
+for him.  To strike Serge would be to wound Micheline, surely and
+mortally.  So this scoundrel could laugh at her and dare her with
+impunity!
+
+What must she do?  Take him aside and tell him that she knew of his
+disloyal conduct, and tell him of her contempt and hatred for him?  And
+after that?  What would be the consequence of this outburst of violence?
+The Prince, using his power over Micheline, would separate the daughter
+from the mother.  And Madame Desvarennes would be alone in her corner,
+abandoned like a poor dog, and would die of despair and anger.  What
+other course then?  She must dissemble, mask her face with indifference,
+if possible with tenderness, and undertake the difficult task of
+separating Micheline from the man whom she adored.  It was quite a feat
+of strategy to plan.  To bring out the husband's faults and to make his
+errors known, and give her the opportunity of proving his worthlessness.
+In a word, to make the young wife understand that she had married an
+elegant manikin, unworthy of her love.
+
+It would be an easy matter to lay snares for Serge.  He was a gambler.
+She could let him have ready money to satisfy his passion.  Once in the
+clutches of the demon of play, he would neglect his wife, and the mother
+might regain a portion of the ground she had lost.  Micheline's fortune
+once broken into, she would interpose between her daughter and son-in-
+law.  She would make him pull up, and holding him tightly by her purse
+strings, would lead him whither she liked.
+
+Already in fancy she saw her authority regained, and her daughter, her
+treasure, her life, true mistress of the situation, grateful to her for
+having saved her.  And then, she thought, a baby will come, and if
+Micheline is really my daughter, she will adore the little thing, and the
+blind love which she has given to her husband will be diminished by so
+much.
+
+Serge did not know what an adversary he had against him in his mother-in-
+law.  It was a bad thing to cross the mistress when business matters were
+concerned, but now that her daughter's happiness was at stake!  A smile
+came to her lips.  A firm resolution from that hour must guide her, and
+the struggle between her son-in-law and herself could only end by the
+crushing of one of them.
+
+In the distance the music from the work-people's ball was heard.  Madame
+Desvarennes mechanically bent her steps toward the tent under which the
+heavy bounds of the dancers reechoed.  Every now and then large shadows
+appeared on the canvas.  A joyful clamor issued from the ballroom.  Loud
+laughter resounded, mingled with piercing cries of tickled women.
+
+The voice of the master of the ceremonies could be heard jocose and
+solemn: "La poule!  Advance!  Set to partners!"  Then the stamping of
+heavy shoes on the badly planed floor, and, above all, the melancholy
+sounds of the clarionet and the shrill notes of the cornet were audible.
+
+At the entrance of the ballroom, surrounded by tables and stools, two
+barrels of wine on stands presented their wooden taps, ready for those
+who wanted to quench their thirst.  A large red mark under each barrel
+showed that the hands of the drinkers wire no longer steady.  A cake-
+seller had taken up his place at the other side, and was kneading a last
+batch of paste, while his apprentice was ringing a bell which hung over
+the iron cooking-stove to attract customers.  There was an odor of rancid
+butter, spilled wine, and paraffin oil.
+
+Adjoining the ballroom, a merry-go-round; which had been the delight of
+the village urchins all day, appealed for custom by the aid of a barrel-
+organ on which a woman in a white bodice was playing the waltz from 'Les
+Cloches de Corneville'.
+
+The animation of this fete, in the midst of which Madame Desvarennes
+suddenly appeared, was a happy diversion from the serious thoughts which
+beset her.  She remembered that Serge and Micheline must be there.  She
+came from under the shadow of the avenue into the full light.  On
+recognizing her, all the workpeople, who were seated, rose.  She was
+really mistress and lady of the place.  And then she had fed these people
+since morning.  With a sign she bade them be seated, and walking quickly
+toward the dancing-room, lifted the red and white cotton curtain which
+hung over the entrance.
+
+There, in a space of a hundred square yards or so, about a hundred and
+fifty people were sitting or standing.  At the end, on a stage, were the
+musicians, each with a bottle of wine at his feet, from which they
+refreshed themselves during the intervals.  An impalpable dust, raised by
+the feet of the dancers, filled the air charged with acrid odors.  The
+women in light dresses and bareheaded, and the men arrayed in their
+Sunday clothes, gave themselves up with frantic ardor to their favorite
+pleasure.
+
+Ranged in double rows, vis-a-vis, they were waiting with impatience for
+the music to strike up for the last figure.  Near the orchestra, Serge
+was dancing with the Mayor's daughter opposite Micheline, whose partner
+was the mayor himself.  An air of joyful gravity lit up the municipal
+officer's face.  He was enjoying the honor which the Princess had done
+him.  His pretty young daughter, dressed, in her confirmation dress,
+which had been lengthened with a muslin flounce, a rose in her hair, and
+her hands encased in straw-colored one-button kid gloves, hardly dared
+raise her eyes to the Prince, and with burning cheeks, answered in
+monosyllables the few remarks Serge felt forced to address to her.
+
+The orchestra bellowed, the floor shook; the two lines of dancers had
+advanced in a body.  Madame Desvarennes, leaning against the door-post,
+followed with her eyes her daughter, whose light footsteps contrasted
+strangely with the heavy tread of the women around her.  The mayor, eager
+and respectful, followed her, making efforts to keep up with her without
+treading on her long train.  It was,
+
+"Excuse me, Madame la Princesse.  If Madame la Princesse will do me the
+honor to give me her hand, it is our turn to cross."
+
+They had just crossed.  Serge suddenly found himself facing his mother-
+in-law.  His face lit up, and he uttered a joyful exclamation.  Micheline
+raised her eyes, and following her husband's look, perceived her mother.
+Then it was a double joy.  With a mischievous wink, Serge called Madame
+Desvarennes's attention to the mayor's solemn appearance as he was
+galloping with Micheline, also the comical positions of the rustics.
+
+Micheline was smiling.  She was enjoying herself.  All this homely
+gayety, of which she was the cause, made her feel happy.  She enjoyed the
+pleasure of those around her.  With her compassionate eyes she thanked
+her mother in the distance for having prepared this fete in honor of her
+marriage.  The clarionet, violin, and cornet sounded a last modulation,
+then the final cadence put an end to the bounds of the dances.  Each took
+his lady to her place--the mayor with pompous gait, Serge with as much
+grace as if he had been at an ambassador's ball and was leading a young
+lady of highest rank.
+
+Madame Desvarennes was suddenly surrounded; cheers resounded, the band
+struck up the Marseillaise.
+
+"Let us escape," said Serge, "because these good people will think
+nothing of carrying us in triumph."
+
+And leading away his mother-in-law and his wife, he left the ballroom
+followed by cheers.
+
+Outside they all three walked in silence.  The night air was delightful
+after coming out of that furnace.  The cheering had ceased, and the
+orchestra was playing a polka.  Micheline had taken her husband's arm.
+
+They went along slowly, and close together.  Not a word was exchanged;
+they all three seemed to be listening within themselves.  When they
+reached the house, they went up the steps leading into the greenhouse,
+which served also as a boudoir to Madame Desvarennes.
+
+The atmosphere was still warm and scented, the lamps still burning.  The
+guests had left; Micheline looked round.  The remembrance of this happy
+evening, which had been the crowning of her happiness, filled her heart
+with emotion.  Turning toward her mother with a radiant face, she cried:
+
+"Ah! mamma!  I am so happy," and threw her arms around her.
+
+Serge started at this cry.  Two tears came to his eyes, and looking a
+little pale, he stretched out to Madame Desvarennes his hands, which she
+felt trembling in hers, and said:
+
+"Thank you."
+
+Madame Desvarennes gazed at him for a moment.  She did not see the shadow
+of a wicked thought on his brow.  He was sincerely affected, truly
+grateful.  The idea occurred to her that Jeanne had deceived her, or had
+deceived herself, and that Serge had not loved her.  A feeling of relief
+took possession of her.  But distrust had unfortunately entered her mind.
+She put away that flattering hope.  And giving her son-in-law such a
+look, which, had he been less moved, he would have understood, she
+murmured,
+
+"We shall see."
+
+
+
+
+ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:
+
+A uniform is the only garb which can hide poverty honorably
+Forget a dream and accept a reality
+I don't pay myself with words
+Implacable self-interest which is the law of the world
+In life it is only nonsense that is common-sense
+Is a man ever poor when he has two arms?
+Is it by law only that you wish to keep me?
+Nothing that provokes laughter more than a disappointed lover
+Suffering is a human law; the world is an arena
+The uncontested power which money brings
+We had taken the dream of a day for eternal happiness
+What is a man who remains useless
+
+
+
+
+End of this Project Gutenberg Etext of Serge Panine, v2
+by Georges Ohnet
+
+
+
+
+
+
+SERGE PANINE
+
+By GEORGES OHNET
+
+
+
+BOOK 3.
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+THE FIRST BREAK
+
+The first two months of this union were truly enchanting.  Serge and
+Micheline never left each other.  After an absence of eight days they had
+returned to Paris with Madame Desvarennes, and the hitherto dull mansion
+in the Rue Saint-Dominique was filled with joyful bustle.  The splendid
+stables, formerly too large for the mistress's three horses, were now
+insufficient for the service of the Prince.  There were eight splendid
+carriage-horses, a pair of charming ponies--bought especially for
+Micheline's use, but which the young wife had not been able to make up
+her mind to drive herself--four saddle-horses, upon which every morning
+about eight o'clock, when the freshness of night had perfumed the Bois de
+Boulogne, the young people took their ride round the lake.
+
+A bright sun made the sheet of water sparkle between its borders of dark
+fir-trees; the flesh air played in Micheline's veil, and the tawny
+leather of the saddles creaked.  Those were happy days for Micheline, who
+was delighted at having Serge near her, attentive to her every want, and
+controlling his thoroughbred English horse to her gentle pace.  Every now
+and then his mount would wheel about and rear in revolt, she following
+him with fond looks, proud of the elegant cavalier who could subdue
+without apparent effort, by the mere pressure of his thighs, that
+impetuous steed.
+
+Then she would give her horse a touch with the whip, and off she would go
+at a gallop, feeling happy with the wind blowing in her face, and he whom
+she loved by her side to smile on and encourage her.  Then they would
+scamper along; the dog with his thin body almost touching the ground,
+racing and frightening the rabbits, which shot across the road swift as
+bullets.  Out of breath by the violent ride, Micheline would stop, and
+pat the neck of her lovely chestnut horse.  Slowly the young people would
+return to the Rue Saint-Dominique, and, on arriving in the courtyard,
+there was such a pawing of feet as brought the clerks to the windows,
+hiding behind the curtains.  Tired with healthy exercise, Micheline would
+go smiling to the office where her mother was hard at work, and say:
+
+"Here we are, mamma!"
+
+The mistress would rise and kiss her daughter beaming with freshness.
+Then they would go up to breakfast.
+
+Madame Desvarennes's doubts were lulled to rest.  She saw her daughter
+happy.  Her son-in-law was in every respect cordial and charming toward
+her.  Cayrol and his wife had scarcely been in Paris since their
+marriage.  The banker had joined Herzog in his great scheme of the
+"Credit," and was travelling all over Europe establishing offices and
+securing openings.  Jeanne accompanied him.  They were then in Greece.
+The young wife's letters to her adopted mother breathed calmness and
+satisfaction.  She highly praised her husband's kindness to her, and said
+it was unequalled.
+
+No allusion was made to that evening of their marriage, when, escaping
+from Cayrol's wrath, she had thrown herself in Madame Desvarennes's arms,
+and had allowed her secret to be found out.  The mistress might well
+think then that the thought which at times still troubled her mind was a
+remembrance of a bad dream.
+
+What contributed especially to make her feel secure was Jeanne's absence.
+If the young woman had been near Serge, Madame Desvarennes might have
+trembled.  But Micheline's beautiful rival was far away, and Serge seemed
+very much in love with his wife.
+
+Everything was for the best.  The formidable projects which Madame
+Desvarennes had formed in the heat of her passion had not been earned
+out.  Serge had as yet not given Madame Desvarennes cause for real
+displeasure.  Certainly he was spending money foolishly, but then his
+wife was so rich!
+
+He had put his household on an extraordinary footing.  Everything that
+most refined luxury had invented he had introduced as a matter of course,
+and for everyday use.  He entertained magnificently several times a week.
+And Madame Desvarennes, from her apartments, for she would never appear
+at these grand receptions, heard the noise of these doings.  This woman,
+modest and simple in her ideas, whose luxury had always been artistic,
+wondered that they could spend so much on frivolous entertainments.  But
+Micheline was queen of these sumptuous ceremonies.  She came in full
+dress to be admired by her mother, before going down to receive her
+guests, and the mistress had not courage to offer any remonstrances as to
+expense when she saw her daughter so brilliant and contented.
+
+They played cards very much.  The great colony of foreigners who came
+every week to Panine's receptions brought with them their immoderate
+passion for cards, and he was only too willing to give way to it.  These
+gentlemen, among them all, almost without taking off their white kid
+gloves, would win or lose between forty and fifty thousand francs at
+bouillotte, just to give them an appetite before going to the club to
+finish the night at baccarat.
+
+Meanwhile the ladies, with their graceful toilettes displayed on the low
+soft chairs, talked of dress behind their fans, or listened to the songs
+of a professional singer, while young men whispered soft nothings in
+their ears.
+
+It was rumored that the Prince lost heavily.  It was not to be wondered
+at; he was so happy in love!  Madame Desvarennes, who used every means of
+gaining information on the subject, even to the gossip of the servants,
+heard that the sums were enormous.  No doubt they were exaggerated, but
+the fact remained the same.  The Prince was losing.
+
+Madame Desvarennes could not resist the inclination of finding out
+whether Micheline knew what was going on, and one morning when the young
+wife came down to see her mother, dressed in a lovely pink gown, the
+mistress, while teasing her daughter, said, carelessly:
+
+"It seems your husband lost heavily last night."
+
+Micheline looked astonished at Madame Desvarennes, and in a quiet voice
+replied:
+
+"A good host may not win from his guests; it would look as if he invited
+them to rob them.  Losses at cards are included in the costs of a
+reception."
+
+Madame Desvarennes thought that her daughter had become a very grand
+lady, and had soon acquired expanded ideas.  But she dared not say
+anything more.  She dreaded a quarrel with her daughter, and would have
+sacrificed everything to retain her cajoling ways.
+
+She threw herself into her work with renewed vigor.
+
+"If the Prince spends large sums," she said to herself, "I will earn
+larger ones.  There can be no hole dug deep enough by him that I shall
+not be able, to fill up."
+
+And she made the money come in at the door so that her son-in-law might
+throw it out of the window.
+
+One fine day these great people who visited at the mansion in the Rue
+Saint-Dominique hastened away to the country.  September had arrived,
+bringing with it the shooting season.  The Prince and Micheline settled
+themselves at Cernay, not as in the first days of their marriage as
+lovers who sought quietude, but as people sure of their happiness, who
+wished to make a great show.  They took all the carriages with them, and
+there was nothing but bustle and movement.  The four keepers, dressed in
+the Prince's livery,  came daily for orders as to shooting arrangements.
+And every week shoals of visitors arrived, brought from the station in
+large breaks drawn by four horses.
+
+The princely dwelling was in its full splendor.  There was a continual
+going and coming of fashionable worldlings.  From top to bottom of the
+castle was a constant rustling of silk dresses; groups of pretty women,
+coming downstairs with peals of merry laughter and singing snatches from
+the last opera.  In the spacious hall they played billiards and other
+games, while one of the gentlemen performed on the large organ.  There
+was a strange mixture of freedom and strictness.  The smoke of Russian
+cigarettes mingled with the scent of opoponax.  An elegant confusion
+which ended about six o'clock in a general flight, when the sportsmen
+came home, and the guests went to their rooms.  An hour afterward all
+these people met in the large drawing-room; the ladies in low-bodied
+evening dresses; the gentlemen in dress-coats and white satin waistcoats,
+with a sprig of mignonette and a white rose in their buttonholes.  After
+dinner, they danced in the drawing-rooms, where a mad waltz would even
+restore energy to the gentlemen tired out by six hours spent in the
+field.
+
+Madame Desvarennes did not join in that wild existence.  She had remained
+in Paris, attentive to business.  On Saturdays she came down by the five
+o'clock train and regularly returned on the Monday morning.  Her presence
+checked their wild gayety a little.  Her black dress was like a blot
+among the brocades and satins.  Her severe gravity, that of a woman who
+pays and sees the money going too fast, was like a reproach, silent but
+explicit, to that gay and thoughtless throng of idlers, solely taken up
+by their pleasure.
+
+The servants made fun of her.  One day the Prince's valet, who thought
+himself a clever fellow, said before all the other servants that Mother
+Damper had arrived.  Of course they all roared with laughter and
+exclaimed:
+
+"Bother the old woman!  Why does she come and worry us?  She had far
+better stop in the office and earn money; that's all she's good for!"
+
+The disdain which the servants learned from their master grew rapidly.
+So much so that one Monday morning, toward nine o'clock, Madame
+Desvarennes came down to the courtyard, expecting to find the carriage
+which generally took her to the station.  It was the second coachman's
+duty to drive her, and she did not see him.  Thinking that he was a
+little late, she walked to the stable-yard.  There, instead of the
+victoria which usually took her, she saw a large mail-coach to which two
+grooms were harnessing the Prince's four bays.  The head coachman, an
+Englishman, dressed like a gentleman, with a stand-up collar, and a rose
+in his buttonhole, stood watching the operations with an air of
+importance.
+
+Madame Desvarennes went straight to him.  He had seen her coming, out of
+the, corner of his eye, without disturbing himself.
+
+"How is it that the carriage is not ready to take me to the station?"
+asked the mistress.
+
+"I don't know, Madame," answered this personage, condescendingly, without
+taking his hat off.
+
+"But where is the coachman who generally drives me?"
+
+"I don't know.  If Madame would like to see in the stables--"
+
+And with a careless gesture, the Englishman pointed out to Madame
+Desvarennes the magnificent buildings at the end of the courtyard.
+
+The blood rose to the mistress's cheeks; she gave the coachman such a
+look that he moved away a little.  Then glancing at her watch, she said,
+coldly:
+
+"I have only a quarter of an hour before the train leaves, but here are
+horses that ought to go well.  Jump on the box, my man, you shall drive
+me."
+
+The Englishman shook his head.
+
+"Those horses are not for service; they are only for pleasure," he
+answered.  "I drive the Prince.  I don't mind driving the Princess, but I
+am not here to drive you, Madame."
+
+And with an insolent gesture, setting his hat firmly on his head, he
+turned his back upon the mistress.  At the same moment, a sharp stroke
+from a light cane made his hat roll on the pavement.  And as the
+Englishman turned round, red with rage, he found himself face to face
+with the Prince, whose approach neither Madame Desvarennes nor he had
+heard.
+
+Serge, in an elegant morning suit, was going round his stables when he
+had been attracted by this discussion.  The Englishman, uneasy, sought to
+frame an excuse.
+
+"Hold your tongue!"  exclaimed the Prince, sharply, "and go and wait my
+orders."
+
+And turning toward the mistress:
+
+"Since this man refuses to drive you, I shall have the pleasure of taking
+you to the station myself," he said, with a charming smile.
+
+And as Madame Desvarennes remonstrated,
+
+"Oh!  I can drive four-in-hand," he added.  "For once in my life that
+talent will have been of some use to me.  Pray jump in."
+
+And opening the door of the mail-coach he handed her into the vast
+carriage.  Then, climbing with one bound to the box, he gathered the
+reins and, cigar in mouth, with all the coolness of an old coachman, he
+started the horses in the presence of all the grooms, and made a perfect
+semicircle on the gravel of the courtyard.
+
+The incident was repeated favorably for Serge.  It was agreed that he had
+behaved like a true nobleman.  Micheline was proud of it, and saw in this
+act of deference to her mother a proof of his love for her.  As to the
+mistress, she understood the advantage this clever manoeuvre gave to the
+Prince.  At the same time she felt the great distance which henceforth
+separated her from the world in which her daughter lived.
+
+The insolence of that servant was a revelation to her.  They despised
+her.  The Prince's coachman would not condescend to drive a plebeian like
+her.  She paid the wages of these servants to no purpose.  Her plebeian
+origin and business habits were a vice.  They submitted to her; they did
+not respect her.
+
+Although her son-in-law and daughter were perfect toward her in their
+behavior, she became gloomy and dull, and but seldom went now to Cernay.
+She felt in the way, and uncomfortable.  The smiling and superficial
+politeness of the visitors irritated her nerves.  These people were too
+well bred to be rude toward Panine's mother-in-law, but she felt that
+their politeness was forced.  Under their affected nicety she detected
+irony.  She began to hate them all.
+
+Serge, sovereign lord of Cernay, was really happy.  Every moment he
+experienced new pleasure in gratifying his taste for luxury.  His love
+for horses grew more and more.  He gave orders to have a model stud-house
+erected in the park amid the splendid meadows watered by the Oise; and
+bought stallions and breeding mares from celebrated English breeders.  He
+contemplated starting a racing stable.
+
+One day when Madame Desvarennes arrived at Cernay, she was surprised to
+see the greensward bordering the woods marked out with white stakes.  She
+asked inquiringly what these stakes meant?  Micheline answered in an easy
+tone:
+
+"Ah!  you saw them?  That is the track for training.  We made
+Mademoiselle de Cernay gallop there to-day.  She's a level-going filly
+with which Serge hopes to win the next Poule des Produits."
+
+The mistress was amazed.  A child who had been brought up so simply, in
+spite of her large fortune, a little commoner, speaking of level-going
+fillies and the Poule des Produits!  What a change had come over her and
+what incredible influence this frivolous, vain Panine had over that young
+and right-minded girl!  And that in a few months!  What would it be
+later?  He would succeed in imparting to her his tastes and would mould
+her to his whims, and the young modest girl whom he had received from the
+mother would become a horsey and fast woman.
+
+Was it possible that Micheline could be happy in that hollow and empty
+life?  The love of her husband satisfied her.  His love was all she asked
+for, all else was indifferent to her.  Thus of her mother, the
+impassioned toiler, was born the passionate lover!  All the fervency
+which the mother had given to business, Micheline had given to love.
+
+Moreover, Serge behaved irreproachably.  One must do him that justice.
+Not even an appearance accused him.  He was faithful, unlikely as that
+may seem in a man of his kind; he never left his wife.  He had hardly
+ever gone out without her; they were a couple of turtle-doves.  They were
+laughed at.
+
+"The Princess has tied a string round Serge's foot," was said by some of
+Serge's former woman friends!
+
+It was something to be sure of her daughter's happiness.  That happiness
+was dearly, bought; but as the proverb says:
+
+"Money troubles are not mortal!"
+
+And, besides, it was evident that the Prince did not keep account of his
+money; his hand was always open.  And never did a great lord do more
+honor to his fortune.  Panine, in marrying Micheline, had found the
+mistress's cash-box at his disposal.
+
+This prodigious cash-box had seemed to him inexhaustible, and he had
+drawn on it like a Prince in the Arabian Nights on the treasure of the
+genii.
+
+Perhaps it would suffice to let him see that he was spending the capital
+as well as the income to make him alter his line of conduct.  At all
+events, the moment was not yet opportune, and, besides, the amount was
+not yet large enough.  Cry out about some hundred thousand francs!
+Madame Desvarennes would be thought a miser and would be covered with
+shame.  She must wait.
+
+And, shut up in her office in the Rue Saint-Dominique with Marechal, who
+acted as her confidant, she worked with heart and soul full of passion
+and anger, making money.  It was fine to witness the duel between these
+two beings: the one useful, the other useless; one sacrificing everything
+to work, the other everything to pleasure.
+
+Toward the end of October, the weather at Cernay became unsettled, and
+Micheline complained of the cold.  Country life so pleased Serge that he
+turned a deaf ear to her complaints.  But lost in that large house, the
+autumn winds rustling through the trees, whose leaves were tinted with
+yellow, Micheline became sad, and the Prince understood that it was time
+to go back to Paris.
+
+The town seemed deserted to Serge.  Still, returning to his splendid
+apartments was a great satisfaction and pleasure to him.  Everything
+appeared new.  He reviewed the hangings, the expensive furniture, the
+paintings and rare objects.  He was charmed.  It was really of wonderful
+beauty, and the cage seemed worthy of the bird.  For several evenings he
+remained quietly at home with Micheline, in the little silver-gray
+drawing-room that was his favorite room.  He looked through albums, too,
+while his wife played at her piano quietly or sang.
+
+They retired early and came down late.  Then he had become a gourmand.
+He spent hours in arranging menus and inventing unknown dishes about
+which he consulted his chef, a cook of note.
+
+He rode in the Bois in the course of the day, but did not meet any one
+there; for of every two carriages one was a hackney coach with a worn-out
+sleepy horse, his head hanging between his knees, going the round of the
+lake.  He ceased going to the Bois, and went out on foot in the Champs-
+Elysees.  He crossed the Pont de la Concorde, and walked up and down the
+avenues near the Cirque.
+
+He was wearied.  Life had never appeared so monotonous to him.  Formerly
+he had at least the preoccupations of the future.  He asked himself how
+he could alter the sad condition in which he vegetated!  Shut up in this
+happy existence, without a care or a cross, he grew weary like a prisoner
+in his cell.  He longed for the unforeseen; his wife irritated him, she
+was of too equable a temperament.  She always met him with the same smile
+on her lips.  And then happiness agreed with her too well; she was
+growing stout.
+
+One day, on the Boulevard des Italiens, Serge met an old friend, the
+Baron de Prefont, a hardened 'roue'.  He had not seen him since his
+marriage.  It was a pleasure to him.  They had a thousand things to say
+to each other.  And walking along, they came to the Rue Royale.
+
+"Come to the club," said Prefont, taking Serge by the arm.
+
+The Prince, having nothing else to do, allowed himself to be led away,
+and went.  He felt a strange pleasure in those large rooms of the club,
+the Grand Cercle, with their glaring furniture.  The common easy-chairs,
+covered with dark leather, seemed delightful.  He did not notice the
+well-worn carpets burned here and there by the hot cigar-ash; the strong
+smell of tobacco, impregnated in the curtains, did not make him feel
+qualmish.  He was away from home, and was satisfied with anything for a
+change.  He had been domesticated long enough.
+
+One morning, taking up the newspaper, a name caught Madame Desvarennes's
+eye-that of the Prince.  She read:
+
+"The golden book of the Grand Cercle has just had another illustrious
+name inscribed in it.  The Prince Panine was admitted yesterday, proposed
+by the Baron de Prefont and the Duc de Bligny."
+
+These few lines made Madame Desvarennes's blood boil.  Her ears tingled
+as if all the bells of Saint-Etienne-du-Mont had been rung together.  In
+a rapid vision, she saw misfortune coming.  Her son-in-law, that born
+gambler, at the Grand Cercle!  No more smiles for Micheline; henceforth
+she had a terrible rival--the devouring love of play.
+
+Then Madame Desvarennes reflected.  The husband's deserting his fireside
+would be salvation for herself.  The door by which he went out, would
+serve as an entrance for her.  The plan which she had conceived at Cernay
+that terrible night of the marriage when Jeanne had confided in her,
+remained for her to execute.  By opening her purse widely to the Prince,
+she would help him in his vice.  And she would infallibly succeed in
+separating Serge and Micheline.
+
+But the mistress checked herself.  Lend her hands to the destruction of
+her son-in-law in a fit of fierce maternal egoism?  Was it not unworthy
+of her?  How many tears would the Prince's errors cost her whom she
+wished to regain at all price?  And then would she always be there to
+compensate by her devoted affection the bitterly regretted estrangement
+from the husband?  She would, in dying, leave the household disunited.
+
+She was horrified at what she had for an instant dreamed of doing.  And
+instead of helping the Prince on to destruction, she determined to do all
+in her power to keep him in the path of honor.  That resolution formed,
+Madame Desvarennes was satisfied.  She felt superior to Serge, and to a
+mind like hers the thought was strengthening.
+
+The admission to the Grand Cercle gave Serge a powerful element of
+interest in life: He had to manoeuvre to obtain his liberty.  His first
+evenings spent from home troubled Micheline deeply.  The young wife was
+jealous when she saw her husband going out.  She feared a rival, and
+trembled for her love.  Serge's mysterious conduct caused her intolerable
+torture.  She dared not say anything to her mother, and remained
+perfectly quiet on the subject before her husband.  She sought
+discreetly, listened to the least word that might throw any light on the
+matter.
+
+One day she found an ivory counter, bearing the stamp of the Grand
+Cercle, in her husband's dressing-room.  It was in the Rue Royale then
+that her husband spent his evenings.  This discovery was a great relief
+to her.  It was not very wrong to go there, and if the Prince did go and
+smoke a few cigars and have a game at bouillotte, it was not a very great
+crime.  The return of his usual friends to Paris and the resumption of
+their receptions would bring him home again.
+
+Serge now left Micheline about ten o'clock in the evening regularly and
+arrived at the club about eleven.  High play did not commence until after
+midnight.  Then he seated himself at the gaming-table with all the ardor
+of a professional gambler.  His face changed its expression.  When
+winning, it was animated with an expression of awful joy; when losing,
+he looked as hard as a stone, his features contracted, and his eyes were
+full of gloomy fire.  He bit his mustache convulsively.  Moreover, always
+silent, winning or losing with superb indifference.
+
+He lost.  His bad luck had followed him.  At the club his losses were no
+longer limited.  There was always some one willing to take a hand, and
+until dawn he played, wasting his life and energies to satisfy his insane
+love of gambling.
+
+One morning, Marechal entered Madame Desvarennes's private office,
+holding a little square piece of paper.  Without speaking a word, he
+placed it on the desk.  The mistress took it, read what was written upon
+it in shaky handwriting, and suddenly becoming purple, rose.  The paper
+bore these simple words:
+
+"Received from Monsieur Salignon the sum of one hundred thousand francs.
+Serge Panine."
+
+"Who brought this paper?"  asked Madame Desvarennes, crushing it between
+her fingers.
+
+"The waiter who attends the card-room at the club."
+
+"The waiter?"  cried Madame Desvarennes, astonished.
+
+"Oh, he is a sort of banker," said Marechal.  "These gentlemen apply to
+him when they run short of money.  The Prince must have found himself in
+that predicament.  Still he has just received the rents for the property
+in the Rue de Rivoli."
+
+"The rents!"  grumbled Madame Desvarennes, with an energetic movement.
+"The rents!  A drop of water in a river!  You don't know that he is a man
+to lose the hundred thousand francs which they claim, in one night."
+
+The mistress paced up and down the room.  She suddenly came to a
+standstill.  "If I don't stop him, the rogue will sell the feather-bed
+from under my daughter!  But he shall have a little of my mind!  He has
+provoked me long enough.  Pay it!  I'll take my money's worth out of
+him."
+
+And in a second, Madame Desvarennes was in the Prince's room.
+
+Serge, after a delicate breakfast, was smoking and dozing on the smoking-
+room sofa.  The night had been a heavy one for him.  He had won two
+hundred and fifty thousand francs from Ibrahim Bey, then he had lost all,
+besides five thousand louis advanced by the obliging Salignon.  He had
+told the waiter to come to the Rue Saint-Dominique, and by mistake the
+man had gone to the office.
+
+The sudden opening of the smoking-room door roused Serge.  He unclosed
+his eyes and looked very much astonished at seeing Madame Desvarennes
+appear.  Pale, frowning, and holding the accusing paper in her hand, she
+angrily inquired:
+
+"Do you recognize that?"  and placed the receipt which he had signed,
+before him, as he slowly rose.
+
+Serge seized it quickly, and then looking coldly at his mother-in-law,
+said:
+
+"How did this paper come into your hands?"
+
+"It has just been brought to my cashier.  A hundred thousand francs!
+Faith!  You are going ahead!  Do you know how many bushels of corn must
+be ground to earn that?"
+
+"I beg your pardon, Madame," said the Prince, interrupting Madame
+Desvarennes.  "I don't suppose you came here to give me a lesson in
+commercial statistics.  This paper was presented to your cashier by
+mistake.  I was expecting it, and here is the money ready to pay it.
+As you have been good enough to do so, pray refund yourself."
+
+And taking a bundle of bank-notes from a cabinet, the Prince handed them
+to the astonished mistress.
+
+"But," she sought to say, very much put out by this unexpected answer,
+"where did you get this money from?  You must have inconvenienced
+yourself."
+
+"I beg your pardon," said the Prince, quietly, "that only concerns
+myself.  Be good enough to see whether the amount is there," added he
+with a smile.  "I reckon so badly that it is possible I may have made a
+mistake to your disadvantage."
+
+Madame Desvarennes pushed away the hand which presented the bank-notes,
+and shook her head gravely:
+
+"Keep this money," she said; "unfortunately you will need it.  You have
+entered on a very dangerous path, which grieves me very much.  I would
+willingly give ten times the amount, at once, to be sure that you would
+never touch another card."
+
+"Madame!"  said the Prince with impatience.
+
+"Oh!  I know what I am risking by speaking thus.  It weighs so heavily
+on my heart.  I must give vent to it or I shall choke.  You are spending
+money like a man who does not know what it is to earn it.  And if you
+continue--"
+
+Madame Desvarennes raised her eyes and looked at the Prince.  She saw him
+so pale with suppressed rage that she dared not say another word.  She
+read deadly hatred in the young man's look.  Frightened at what she had
+just been saying, she stepped back, and went quickly toward the door.
+
+"Take this money, Madame," said Serge, in a trembling voice.  "Take it,
+or all is over between us forever."
+
+And, seizing the notes, he put them by force in Madame Desvarennes's
+hands.  Then tearing up with rage the paper that had been the cause of
+this painful scene, he threw the pieces in the fireplace.
+
+Deeply affected, Madame Desvarennes descended the stairs which she had a
+few minutes before gone up with so much resolution.  She had a
+presentiment that an irreparable rupture had just taken place between
+herself and her son-in-law.  She had ruffled Panine's pride.  She felt
+that he would never forgive her.  She went to her room sad and
+thoughtful.  Life was becoming gloomy for this poor woman.  Her
+confidence in herself had disappeared.  She hesitated now, and was
+irresolute when she had to take a decision.  She no longer went straight
+to the point by the shortest road.  Her sonorous voice was softened.  She
+was no longer the same willing energetic woman who feared no obstacles.
+She had known defeat.
+
+The attitude of her daughter had changed toward her.  It seemed as if
+Micheline wished to absolve herself of all complicity with Madame
+Desvarennes.  She kept away to prove to her husband that if her mother
+had displeased him in any way, she had nothing to do with it.  This
+behavior grieved her mother, who felt that Serge was working secretly to
+turn Micheline against her.  And the mad passion of the young wife for
+him whom she recognized as her master did not allow the mother to doubt
+which side she would take if ever she had to choose between husband and
+mother.
+
+One day Micheline came down to see her mother.  It was more than a month
+since she had visited her.  In a moment Madame Desvarennes saw that she
+had something of an embarrassing nature to speak of.  To begin with she
+was more affectionate than usual, seeming to wish with the honey of her
+kisses to sweeten the bitter cross which the mistress was doomed to bear.
+Then she hesitated.  She fidgeted about the room humming.  At last she
+said that the doctor had come at the request of Serge, who was most
+anxious about his wife's health.  And that excellent Doctor Rigaud, who
+had known her from a child, had found her suffering from great weakness.
+He had ordered change of air.
+
+At these words Madame Desvarennes raised her head and gave her daughter a
+terrible look:
+
+"Come, no nonsense!  Speak the truth!  He is taking you away!"
+
+"But, mamma," said Micheline, disconcerted at this interruption, "I
+assure you, you are mistaken.  Anxiety for my health alone guides my
+husband."
+
+"Your husband!"  broke forth Madame Desvarennes.  "Your husband!  Ah,
+there; go away!  Because if you stop here, I shall not be able to control
+myself, and shall say things about him that you will not forgive in a
+hurry!  As you are ill, you are right to have change of air.  I shall
+remain here, without you, fastened to my chain, earning money for you
+while you are far, away.  Go along!"
+
+And seizing her daughter by the arm with convulsive strength, she pushed
+her roughly; for the first time in her life, repeating, in a low tone:
+
+"Go away!  Leave me alone!"
+
+Micheline suffered herself to be put outside the room, and went to her
+own apartments astonished and frightened.  The young wife had hardly left
+the room when Madame Desvarennes suffered the reaction of the emotion she
+had just felt.  Her nerves were unstrung, and falling on a chair she
+remained immovable and humbled.  Was it possible that her daughter, her
+adored child, would abandon her to obey the grudges of her husband?  No,
+Micheline, when back in her room, would remember that she was carrying
+away all the joy of the house, and that it was cruel to deprive her
+mother of her only happiness in life.
+
+Slightly reassured, she went down to the office.  As she reached the
+landing, she saw the Prince's servants carrying up trunks belonging to
+their master to be packed.  She felt sick at heart.  She understood that
+this project had been discussed and settled beforehand.  It seemed to her
+that all was over; that her daughter was going away forever, and that she
+would never see her again.  She thought of going to beseech Serge and ask
+him what sum he would take in exchange for Micheline's liberty; but the
+haughty and sarcastic face of the Prince forcibly putting the bank-notes
+in her hands, passed before her, and she guessed that she would not
+obtain anything.  Cast down and despairing, she entered her office and
+set to work.
+
+The next day, by the evening express, the Prince and Princess left for
+Nice with all their household, and the mansion in the Rue Saint-Dominique
+remained silent and deserted.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+A SUDDEN JOURNEY
+
+At the end of the Promenade des Anglais, on the pleasant road bordered
+with tamarind-trees, stands, amid a grove of cork-oaks and eucalypti, a
+charming white villa with pink shutters.  A Russian lady, the Countess
+Woreseff, had it built five years ago, and occupied it one winter.  Then,
+tired of the monotonous noise of the waves beating on the terrace and the
+brightness of the calm blue sky, she longed for the mists of her native
+country, and suddenly started for St. Petersburg, leaving that charming
+residence to be let.
+
+It was there, amid rhododendrons and strawberry-trees in full bloom,
+that Micheline and Serge had taken up their abode.  Until that day the
+Princess had scarcely travelled.  Her mother, always occupied in
+commercial pursuits, had never left Paris.  Micheline had remained with
+her.  During this long journey, accomplished in most luxurious style,
+she had behaved like a child astonished at everything, and pleased at the
+least thing.  With her face close to the window she saw through the
+transparent darkness of a lovely winter's night, villages and forests
+gliding past like phantoms.  Afar off, in the depths of the country, she
+caught sight of a light glimmering, and she loved to picture a family
+gathered by the fire, the children asleep and the mother working in the
+silence.
+
+Children!  She often thought of them, and never without a sigh of regret
+rising to her lips.  She had been married for some months, and her dreams
+of becoming a mother had not been realized.  How happy she would have
+been to have a baby, with fair hair, to fondle and kiss!  Then the idea
+of a child reminded her of her own mother.  She thought of the deep love
+one must feel for a child.  And the image of the mistress, sad and alone,
+in the large house of the Rue Saint-Dominique, came to her mind.  A vague
+remorse seized her heart.  She felt she had behaved badly.  She said to
+herself: "If, to punish me, Heaven will not grant me a child!"  She wept,
+and soon her grief and trouble vanished with her tears.  Sleep
+overpowered her, and when she awoke it was broad daylight and they were
+in Provence.
+
+From that moment everything was dazzling.  The arrival at Marseilles; the
+journey along the coast, the approach to Nice, were all matters of
+ecstacy to Micheline.  But it was when the carriage, which was waiting
+for them at the railway station, stopped at the gates of the villa, that
+she broke into raptures.  She could not feast her eyes enough on the
+scene which was before her.  The blue sea, the sky without a cloud, the
+white houses rising on the hill amid the dark foliage, and in the
+distance the mountaintops covered with snow, and tinged with pink under
+the brilliant rays of the sun.  All this vigorous and slightly wild
+nature surprised the Parisienne.  It was a new experience.  Dazzled by
+the light and intoxicated with the perfumes, a sort of languor came over
+her.  She soon recovered and became quite strong--something altogether
+new for her, and she felt thoroughly happy.
+
+The life of the Prince and the Princess became at Nice what it had been
+in Paris during the early days of their marriage.  Visitors flocked to
+their house.  All that the colony could reckon of well-known Parisians
+and foreigners of high repute presented themselves at the villa.  The
+fetes recommenced.  They gave receptions three times a week; the other
+evenings Serge went to the Cercle.
+
+This absorbing life had gone on for two months.  It was the beginning of
+February, and already nature was assuming a new appearance under the
+influence of spring.  One evening, three people--two gentlemen and a
+lady--stepped out of a carriage at the villa gates, and found themselves
+face to face with a traveller who had come on foot.  Two exclamations
+broke out simultaneously.
+
+"Marechal!"  "Monsieur Savinien!"
+
+"You! at Nice?  And by what miracle?"
+
+"A miracle which makes you travel fifteen leagues an hour in exchange for
+a hundred and thirty-three francs first-class, and is called the
+Marseilles express!"
+
+"I beg your pardon, my dear friend.  I have not introduced you to
+Monsieur and Mademoiselle Herzog."
+
+"I have already had the honor of meeting Mademoiselle Herzog at Madame
+Desvarennes's," said Marechal, bowing to the young girl, without
+appearing to notice the father.
+
+"You were going to the villa?"  asked Savinien.  "We, too, were going.
+But how is my aunt?  When did you leave her?"
+
+"I have not left her."
+
+"What's that you say?"
+
+"I say that she is here."
+
+Savinien let his arms drop in profound consternation to show how
+difficult it was for him to believe what was going on.  Then, in a faint
+treble voice, he said:
+
+"My aunt!  At Nice!  Promenade des Anglais!  That's something more
+wonderful than the telephone and phonograph!  If you had told me that the
+Pantheon had landed one fine night on the banks of the Paillon, I should
+not be more astonished.  I thought Madame Desvarennes was as deeply
+rooted in Paris as the Colonne Vendome!  But tell me, what is the object
+of this journey?"
+
+"A freak."
+
+"Which manifested itself--"
+
+"Yesterday morning at breakfast.  Pierre Delarue, who is going to finish
+his business in Algeria, and then settle in France, came to say 'Good-by'
+to Madame Desvarennes.  A letter arrived from the Princess.  She
+commenced reading it, then all at once she exclaimed 'Cayrol and his wife
+arrived at Nice two days ago!'  Pierre and I were astonished at the tone
+in which she uttered these words.  She was lost in thought for a few
+moments, then she said to Pierre: 'You are leaving tonight for
+Marseilles?  Well, I shall go with you.  You will accompany me to Nice.'
+And turning toward me, she added: 'Marechal, pack up your portmanteau.
+I shall take you with me."'
+
+While speaking, they had walked across the garden, and reached the steps
+leading to the villa.
+
+"Nothing is easier than to explain this sudden journey," remarked
+Mademoiselle Herzog.  "On learning that Monsieur and Madame Cayrol were
+at Nice with the Princess, Madame Desvarennes must have felt how very
+lonely she was in Paris.  She had a longing to be near them, and
+started."
+
+Herzog listened attentively, and seemed to be seeking the connection
+which should exist between the arrival of the Cayrols and the departure
+of Madame Desvarennes.
+
+"The funniest thing to me is Marechal taking a holiday," observed
+Savinien.  "They are still at dinner," he added, entering the drawing-
+room, through the great doors of which sounds of voices and rattling of
+plates were heard.
+
+"Well, let us wait for them; we are in agreeable company," said Herzog,
+turning toward Marechal, who only answered by a cold bow.
+
+"What are you going to do here, Marechal?"  inquired Savinien.  "You will
+be awfully bored."
+
+"Why?  Once in a way I am going to enjoy myself and be a swell.  You will
+teach me, Monsieur Savinien.  It cannot be very difficult.  It is only
+necessary to wear a dove-colored coat like you, a gardenia in my
+buttonhole like Monsieur Le Bride, frizzled hair like Monsieur du
+Tremblay, and to assail the bank at Monaco."
+
+"Like all these gentlemen," said Suzanne, gayly, "you are a gambler
+then?"
+
+"I have never touched a card."
+
+"But then you ought to have great good luck," said the young girl.
+
+Herzog had come up to them.
+
+"Will you go partners?"  he asked of Marechal.  "We will divide the
+winnings."
+
+"You are too kind," replied Marechal, dryly, turning away.
+
+He could not get used to Herzog's familiarity, and there was something in
+the man which displeased him greatly.  There was, he thought, a police-
+court atmosphere about him.
+
+Suzanne, on the contrary, interested him.  The simple, lively, and frank
+young girl attracted him, and he liked to talk with her.  On several
+occasions, at Madame Desvarennes's, he had been her partner.  There was
+through this a certain intimacy between them which he could not extend to
+the father.
+
+Herzog had that faculty, fortunately for him, of never appearing offended
+at what was said to him.  He took Savinien's arm in a familiar manner and
+asked: "Have you noticed that the Prince has looked very preoccupied for
+the last few days?"
+
+"I don't wonder at it," replied Savinien.  "He has been very unlucky at
+cards.  It is all very well for his wife, my charming cousin, to be rich,
+but if he is going on like that it won't last long!"
+
+The two men withdrew to the window.
+
+Suzanne went up to Marechal.  She had resumed her thoughtful air.  He saw
+her advancing, and, guessing what she was going to say, felt
+uncomfortable at having to tell an untruth if he did not wish to hurt her
+feelings by brutal frankness.
+
+"Monsieur Marechal," she began, "how is it that you are always so cold
+and formal with my father?"
+
+"My dear young lady, there is a great difference between your father and
+me.  I keep my place, that's all."
+
+The young girl shook her head sadly.
+
+"It is not that; you are amiable and ever friendly with me--"
+
+"You are a woman, and the least politeness--"
+
+"No!  My father must have hurt your feelings unwittingly; for he is very
+good.  I have asked him, and he did not seem to understand what I meant.
+But my questions drew his attention to you.  He thinks highly of you and
+would like to see you filling a position more in harmony with your merit.
+You know that Monsieur Cayrol and my father have just launched a
+tremendous undertaking?"
+
+"The 'Credit European'?"
+
+"Yes.  They will have offices in all the commercial centres of European
+commerce.  Would you like the management of one of these branches?"
+
+"I, Mademoiselle?" cried Marechal, astonished, and already asking himself
+what interest Herzog could have in making him leave the house of
+Desvarennes.
+
+"The enterprise is colossal," continued Suzanne, "and frightens me at
+times.  Is it necessary to be so rich?  I would like my father to retire
+from these enormous speculations into which he has thrown himself, body
+and soul.  I have simple tastes.  My father wishes to make a tremendous
+fortune for me, he says.  All he undertakes is for me, I know.  It seems
+to me that he runs a great risk.  That is why I am talking to you.  I am
+very superstitious, and I fancy if you were with us it would bring us
+luck."
+
+Suzanne, while speaking, had leaned toward Marechal.  Her face reflected
+the seriousness of her thoughts.  Her lovely eyes implored.  The young
+man asked himself how this charming girl could belong to that horrible
+Herzog.
+
+"Believe me that I am deeply touched, Mademoiselle, by the favor you have
+done me," said he, with emotion.  "I owe it solely to your kindness, I
+know; but I do not belong to myself.  I am bound to Madame Desvarennes by
+stronger ties than those of interest--those of gratitude."
+
+"You refuse?"  she cried, painfully.
+
+"I must."
+
+"The position you fill is humble."
+
+"I was very glad to accept it at a time when my daily bread was not
+certain."
+
+"You have been reduced," said the young girl, with trembling voice, "to
+such--"
+
+"Wretchedness.  Yes, Mademoiselle, my outset in life was hard.  I am
+without relations.  Mother Marechal, a kind fruiterer of the Rue Pavee au
+Marais, found me one morning by the curbstone, rolled in a number of the
+Constitutionnel, like an old pair of boots.  The good woman took me home,
+brought me up and sent me to college.  I must tell you that I was very
+successful and gained a scholarship.  I won all the prizes.  Yes, and I
+had to sell my gilt-edged books from the Lycee Charlemagne in the days of
+distress.  I was eighteen when my benefactress, Mother Marechal, died.
+I was without help or succor.  I tried to get along by myself.  After ten
+years of struggling and privations I felt physical and moral vigor giving
+way.  I looked around me and saw those who overcame obstacles were
+stronger than I.  I felt that I was doomed not to make way in the world,
+not being one of those who could command, so I resigned myself to obey.
+I fill a humble position as you know, but one which satisfies my wants.
+I am without ambition.  A little philosophical, I observe all that goes
+on around me.  I live happily like Diogenes in his tub."
+
+"You are a wise man," resumed Suzanne.  "I, too, am a philosopher, and I
+live amid surroundings which do not please me.  I, unfortunately, lost my
+mother when I was very young, and although my father is very kind, he has
+been obliged to neglect me a little.  I see around me people who are
+millionaires or who aspire to be.  I am doomed to receive the attentions
+of such men as Le Bride and Du Tremblay--empty-headed coxcombs, who court
+my money, and to whom I am not a woman, but a sack of ducats trimmed with
+lace."
+
+"These gentlemen are the modern Argonauts.  They are in search of the
+Golden Fleece," observed Marechal.
+
+"The Argonauts!"  cried Suzanne, laughing.  "You are right.  I shall
+never call them anything else."
+
+"Oh, they will not understand you!"  said Marechal, gayly.  "I don't
+think they know much of mythology."
+
+"Well, you see I am not very happy in the bosom of riches," continued the
+young girl.  "Do not abandon me.  Come and talk with me sometimes.  You
+will not chatter trivialities.  It will be a change from the others."
+
+And, nodding pleasantly to Marechal, Mademoiselle Herzog joined her
+father, who was gleaning details about the house of Desvarennes from
+Savinien.
+
+The secretary remained silent for a moment.
+
+"Strange girl!"  he murmured.  "What a pity she has such a father."
+
+The door of the room in which Monsieur and Mademoiselle Herzog, Marechal
+and Savinien were, opened, and Madame Desvarennes entered, followed by
+her daughter, Cayrol, Serge and Pierre.  The room, at the extreme end of
+the villa, was square, surrounded on three sides by a gallery shut in by
+glass and stocked with greenhouse plants.  Lofty archways, half veiled
+with draperies, led to the gallery.  This room had been the favorite one
+of Countess Woreseff.  She had furnished it in Oriental style, with low
+seats and large divans, inviting one to rest and dream during the heat of
+the day.  In the centre of the apartment was a large ottoman, the middle
+of which formed a flower-stand.  Steps led down from the gallery to the
+terrace whence there was a most charming view of sea and land.
+
+On seeing his aunt enter, Savinien rushed forward and seized both her
+hands.  Madame Desvarennes's arrival was an element of interest in his
+unoccupied life.  The dandy guessed at some mysterious business and
+thought it possible that he might get to know it.  With open ears and
+prying eyes, he sought the meaning of the least words.
+
+"If you knew, my dear aunt, how surprised I am to see you here," he
+exclaimed in his hypocritical way.
+
+"Not more so than I am to find myself here," said she, with a smile.
+"But, bah!  I have slipped my traces for a week."
+
+"And what are you going to do here?"  continued Savinien.
+
+"What everybody does.  By-the-bye, what do they do?"  asked Madame
+Desvarennes, with vivacity.
+
+"That depends," answered the Prince.  "There are two distinct populations
+here.  On the one hand, those who take care of themselves; on the other,
+those who enjoy themselves.  For the former there is the constitutional
+every morning in the sun, with slow measured steps on the Promenade des
+Anglais.  For the latter there are excursions, races, regattas.  The
+first economize their life like misers; the second waste it like
+prodigals.  Then night comes on, and the air grows cold.  Those who take
+care of themselves go home, those who amuse themselves go out.  The first
+put on dressing-gowns; the second put on ball-dresses.  Here, the house
+is quiet, lit up by a night-light; there, the rooms sparkle with light,
+and resound with the noise of music and dancing.  Here they cough, there
+they laugh.  Infusion on the one hand, punch on the other.  In fact,
+everywhere and always, a contrast.  Nice is at once the saddest and the
+gayest town.  One dies of over-enjoyment, and one amuses one's self at
+the risk of dying."
+
+"A sojourn here is very dangerous, then?"
+
+"Oh! aunt, not so dangerous, nor, above all, so amusing as the Prince
+says.  We are a set of jolly fellows, who kill time between the dining-
+room of the hotel, pigeon-shooting, and the Cercle, which is not so very
+amusing after all."
+
+"The dining-room is bearable," said Marechal, "but pigeon-shooting must
+in time become--"
+
+"We put some interest into the game."
+
+"How so?"
+
+"Oh!  It is very simple: a gentleman with a gun in his hand stands before
+the boxes which contain the pigeons.  You say to me: 'I bet fifty louis
+that the bird will fall.' I answer, 'Done.' The gentleman calls out,
+'Pull;' the box opens, the pigeon flies, the shot follows.  The bird
+falls or does not fall.  I lose or win fifty louis."
+
+"Most interesting!"  exclaimed Mademoiselle Herzog.
+
+"Pshaw!"  said Savinien with ironical indifference, "it takes the place
+of 'trente et quarante,' and is better than 'odd or even' on the numbers
+of the cabs which pass."
+
+"And what do the pigeons say to that?"  asked Pierre, seriously.
+
+"They are not consulted," said Serge, gayly.
+
+"Then there are races and regattas," continued Savinien.
+
+"In which case you bet on the horses?"  interrupted Marechal.
+
+"Or on the boats."
+
+"In fact, betting is applied to all circumstances of life?"
+
+"Exactly; and to crown all, we have the Cercle, where we go in the
+evening.  Baccarat triumphs there.  It is not very varied either: A
+hundred louis?  Done--Five.  I draw.  There are some people who draw at
+five.  Nine, I show up, I win or I lose, and the game continues."
+
+"And that amid the glare of gas and the smoke of tobacco," said Marechal,
+"when the nights are so splendid and the orange-trees smell so sweetly.
+What a strange existence!"
+
+"An existence for idiots, Marechal," sighed Savinien, "that I, a man of
+business, must submit to, through my aunt's domineering ways!  You know
+now how men of pleasure spend their lives, my friend, and you might write
+a substantial resume entitled, 'The Fool's Breviary.' I am sure it would
+sell well."
+
+Madame Desvarennes, who had heard the last words, was no longer
+listening.  She was lost in a deep reverie.  She was much altered since
+grief and trouble had come upon her; her face was worn, her temples
+hollow, her chin was more prominent.  Her eyes had sunk into her head,
+and were surrounded by dark rims.
+
+Serge, leaning against the wall near the window, was observing her.  He
+was wondering with secret anxiety what had brought Madame Desvarennes so
+suddenly to his house after a separation of two months, during which time
+she had scarcely written to Micheline.  Was the question of money to be
+resumed?  Since the morning Madame had been smiling, calm and pleased
+like a schoolgirl home for her holidays.  This was the first time she had
+allowed a sad expression to rest on her face.  Her gayety was feigned
+then.
+
+A look crossing his made him start.  Jeanne had just turned her eyes
+toward him.  For a second they met his own.  Serge could not help
+shuddering.  Jeanne was calling his attention to Madame Desvarennes; she,
+too, was observing her.  Was it on their account she had come to Nice?
+Had their secret fallen into her hands?  He resolved to find out.
+
+Jeanne had turned away her eyes from him.  He could feast his on her now.
+She had become more beautiful.  The tone of her complexion had become
+warmer.  Her figure had developed.  Serge longed to call her his own.
+For a moment his hands trembled; his throat was dry, his heart seemed to
+stop beating.
+
+He tried to shake off this attraction, and walked to the centre of the
+room.  At the same time visitors were announced.  Le Bride, with his
+inseparable friend, Du Tremblay, escorting Lady Harton, Serge's beautiful
+cousin, who had caused Micheline some anxiety on the day of her marriage,
+but whom she no longer feared; then the Prince and Princess Odescalchi,
+Venetian nobles, followed by Monsieur Clement Souverain, a young Belgian,
+starter of the Nice races, a great pigeon shot, and a mad leader of
+cotillons.
+
+"Oh, dear me! my lady, all in black?"  said Micheline, pointing to the
+tight-fitting black satin worn by the English beauty.
+
+"Yes, my dear Princess; mourning," replied Lady Harton, with a vigorous
+shake of the hands.  "Ball-room mourning--one of my best partners;
+gentlemen, you know Harry Tornwall?"
+
+"Countess Alberti's cavalier?"  added Serge.  "Well?"
+
+"Well! he has just killed himself."
+
+A concert of exclamations arose in the drawing-room, and the visitors
+suddenly surrounded her.
+
+"What!  did you not know?  It was the sole topic of conversation at
+Monaco to-day.  Poor Tornwall, being completely cleared out, went during
+the night to the park belonging to the villa occupied by Countess
+Alberti, and blew his brains out under her window."
+
+"How dreadful!"  exclaimed Micheline.
+
+"It was very bad taste on your countryman's part," observed Serge.
+
+"The Countess was furious, and said that Tornwall's coming to her house
+to kill himself proved clearly to her that he did not know how to
+behave."
+
+"Do you wish to prevent those who are cleared out from blowing out their
+brains?"  inquired Cayrol.  "Compel the pawnbrokers of Monaco to lend a
+louis on all pistols."
+
+"Well," retorted young Monsieur Souverain, "when the louis is lost the
+players will still be able to hang themselves."
+
+"Yes," concluded Marechal, "then at any rate the rope will bring luck to
+others."
+
+"Gentlemen, do you know that what you have been relating to us is very
+doleful?"  said Suzanne Herzog.  "Suppose, to vary our impressions, you
+were to ask us to waltz?"
+
+"Yes, on the terrace," said Le Brede, warmly.  "A curtain of orange-trees
+will protect us from the vulgar gaze."
+
+"Oh!  Mademoiselle, what a dream!"  sighed Du Tremblay, approaching
+Suzanne.  "Waltzing with you!  By moonlight."
+
+"Yes, friend Pierrot!" sang Suzanne, bursting into a laugh.
+
+Already the piano, vigorously attacked by Pierre, desirous of making
+himself useful since he could not be agreeable, was heard in the next
+room.  Serge had slowly approached Jeanne.
+
+"Will you do me the favor of dancing with me?"  he asked, softly.
+
+The young woman started; her cheeks became pale, and in a sharp tone she
+answered:
+
+"Why don't you ask your wife?"
+
+Serge smiled.
+
+"You or nobody."
+
+Jeanne raised her eyes boldly, and looking at him in the face, said,
+defiantly:
+
+"Well, then, nobody!"
+
+And, rising, she took the arm of Cayrol, who was advancing toward her.
+
+The Prince remained motionless for a moment, following them with his
+eyes.  Then, seeing his wife alone with Madame Desvarennes, he went out
+on the terrace.  Already the couples were dancing on the polished marble.
+Joyful bursts of laughter rose in the perfumed air that sweet March
+night.  A deep sorrow came over Serge; an intense disgust with all
+things.  The sea sparkled, lit up by the moon.  He had a mad longing to
+seize Jeanne in his arms and carry her far away from the world, across
+that immense calm space which seemed made expressly to rock sweetly
+eternal loves.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+MOTHER AND DAUGHTER
+
+Micheline intended following her husband, but Madame Desvarennes, without
+rising, took hold of her hand.
+
+"Stay with me for a little while," she said, tenderly.  "We have scarcely
+exchanged ten words since my arrival.  Come, tell me, are you pleased to
+see me?"
+
+"How can you ask me that?"  answered Micheline, seating herself on the
+sofa beside her mother.
+
+"I ask you so that you may tell me so," resumed Madame Desvarennes,
+softly.  "I know what you think, but that is not enough."  She added
+pleadingly:
+
+"Kiss me, will you?"
+
+Micheline threw her arms round her mother's neck, saying, "Dear mamma!"
+which made tears spring to the tortured mother's eyes.  She folded her-
+daughter in her arms, and clasped her as a miser holds his treasure.
+
+"It is a long time since I have heard you speak thus to me.  Two months!
+And I have been desolate in that large house you used to fill alone in
+the days gone by."
+
+The young wife interrupted her mother, reproachfully:
+
+"Oh! mamma; I beg you to be reasonable."
+
+"To be reasonable?  In other words, I suppose you mean that I am to get
+accustomed to living without you, after having for twenty years devoted
+my life to you?  Bear, without complaining, that my happiness should be
+taken away, and now that I am old lead a life without aim, without joy,
+without trouble even, because I know if you had any troubles you would
+not tell me!"
+
+There was a moment's pause.  Then Micheline, in a constrained manner,
+said:
+
+"What grief s could I have?"
+
+Madame Desvarennes lost all patience, and giving vent to her feelings
+exclaimed, bitterly:
+
+"Those which your husband causes you!"
+
+Micheline arose abruptly.
+
+"Mother!"  she cried.
+
+But the mistress had commenced, and with unrestrained bitterness,
+went on:
+
+"That gentleman has behaved toward me in such a manner as to shake my
+confidence in him!  After vowing that he would never separate you from
+me, he brought you here, knowing that I could not leave Paris."
+
+"You are unjust," retorted Micheline.  "You know the doctors ordered me
+to go to Nice."
+
+"Pooh!  You can make doctors order you anything you like!"  resumed her
+mother, excitedly, and shaking her head disdainfully.  "Your husband said
+to our good Doctor Rigaud: 'Don't you think that a season in the South
+would do my wife good?' The doctor answered: 'If it does not do her any
+good it certainly won't do her any harm.' Then your husband added,
+'just take a sheet of paper and write out a prescription.  You
+understand?  It is for my mother-in-law, who will not be pleased at our
+going away.'"
+
+And as Micheline seemed to doubt what she was saying, the latter added:
+
+"The doctor told me when I went to see him about it.  I never had much
+faith in doctors, and now--"
+
+Micheline felt she was on delicate ground, and wanted to change the
+subject.  She soothed her mother as in days gone by, saying:
+
+"Come, mamma; will you never be able to get used to your part?  Must you
+always be jealous?  You know all wives leave their mothers to follow
+their husbands.  It is the law of nature.  You, in your day, remember,
+followed your husband, and your mother must have wept."
+
+"Did my mother love me as I love you?"  asked Madame Desvarennes,
+impetuously.  "I was brought up differently.  We had not time to love
+each other so much.  We had to work.  The happiness of spoiling one's
+child is a privilege of the rich.  For you there was no down warm enough
+or silk soft enough to line your cradle.  You have been petted and
+worshipped for twenty years.  Yet, it only needed a man, whom you
+scarcely knew six months ago, to make you forget everything."
+
+"I have not forgotten anything," replied Micheline, moved by these
+passionate expressions.  "And in my heart you still hold the same place."
+
+The mistress looked at the young wife, then, in a sad tone, said:
+
+"It is no longer the first place."
+
+This simple, selfish view made Micheline smile.
+
+"It is just like you, you tyrant!"  she exclaimed. "You must be first.
+Come, be satisfied with equality! Remember that you were first in the
+field, and that for twenty years I have loved you, while he has to make
+up for lost time.  Don't try to make a comparison between my love for him
+and my affection for you.  Be kind: instead of looking black at him, try
+to love him.  I should be so happy to see you united, and to be able,
+without reservation, to think of you both with the same tenderness!"
+
+"Ah!  how you talk me over.  How charming and caressing you can be when
+you like.  And how happy Serge ought to be with a wife like you!  It is
+always the way; men like him always get the best wives."
+
+"I don't suppose, mamma, you came all the way from Paris to run down my
+husband to me."
+
+Madame Desvarennes became serious again.
+
+"No; I came to defend you."
+
+Micheline looked surprised.
+
+"It is time for me to speak.  You are seriously menaced," continued the
+mother.
+
+"In my love?"  asked the young wife, in an altered tone.
+
+"No; in your fortune."
+
+Micheline smiled superbly.
+
+"If that be all!"
+
+This indifference made her mother positively jump.
+
+"You speak very coolly about it!  At the rate your husband is spending,
+there will be nothing left of your dowry in six months."
+
+"Well!"  said the Princess, gayly, "you will give us another."
+
+Madame Desvarennes assumed her cold businesslike manner.
+
+"Ta!  ta!  ta!  Do you think there is no limit to my resources?  I gave
+you four millions when you were married, represented by fifteen hundred
+thousand francs, in good stock, a house in the Rue de Rivoli, and eight
+hundred thousand francs which I prudently kept in the business, and for
+which I pay you interest.  The fifteen hundred thousand francs have
+vanished.  My lawyer came to tell me that the house in the Rue de Rivoli
+had been sold without a reinvestment taking place."
+
+The mistress stopped.  She had spoken in that frank, determined, way of
+hers that was part of her strength.  She looked fixedly at Micheline, and
+asked:
+
+"Did you know this, my girl?"
+
+The Princess, deeply troubled, because now it was not a question of
+sentiment, but of serious moment, answered, in a low tone:
+
+"No, mamma."
+
+"How is that possible?"  Madame Desvarennes demanded, hotly.  "Nothing
+can be done without your signature."
+
+"I gave it," murmured Micheline.
+
+"You gave it!"  repeated the mistress in a tone of anger.  "When?"
+
+"The day after my marriage."
+
+"Your husband had the impudence to ask for it the day after your
+marriage?"
+
+Micheline smiled.
+
+"He did not ask for it, mamma," she replied, with sweetness; "I offered
+it to him.  You had settled all on me."
+
+"Prudently!  With a fellow like your husband!"
+
+"Your mistrust must have been humiliating to him.  I was ashamed of it.
+I said nothing to you, because I knew you would rather prevent the
+marriage, and I loved Serge.  I, therefore, signed the contract which you
+had had prepared.  Only the next day I gave a general power of attorney
+to my husband."
+
+Madame Desvarennes's anger was over.  She was observing Micheline, and
+wished to find out the depth of the abyss into which her daughter had
+thrown herself with blind confidence.
+
+"And what did he say then?"  she inquired.
+
+"Nothing," answered Micheline, simply.  "Tears came to his eyes, and he
+kissed me.  I saw that this delicacy touched his heart and I was happy.
+There, mamma," she added with eyes sparkling at the remembrance of the
+pleasure she had experienced, "he may spend as much as he likes; I am
+amply repaid beforehand."
+
+Madame Desvarennes shrugged her shoulders, and said:
+
+"My dear child, you are mad enough to be locked up.  What is there about
+the fellow to turn every woman's brain?"
+
+"Every woman's?"  exclaimed Micheline, anxiously, looking at her mother.
+
+"That is a manner of speaking.  But, my dear, you must understand that I
+cannot be satisfied with what you have just told me.  A tear and a kiss!
+Bah!  That is not worth your dowry."
+
+"Come, mamma, do let me be happy."
+
+"You can be happy without committing follies.  You do not need a racing-
+stable."
+
+"Oh, he has chosen such pretty colors," interrupted Micheline, with a
+smile.  "Pearl-gray and silver, and pink cap.  It is charming!"
+
+"You think so?  Well, you are not difficult to please.  And the club?
+What do you say to his gambling?"
+
+Micheline turned pale, and with a constraint which hurt her mother, said:
+
+"Is it necessary to make a fuss about a few games at bouillotte?"
+
+This continual defense of Serge exasperated Madame Desvarennes.
+
+"Don't talk to me," she continued, violently.  "I am well informed on
+that subject.  He leaves you alone every evening to go and play with
+gentlemen who turn up the king with a dexterity the Legitimists must
+envy.  My dear, shall I tell you his fortune?  He commenced with cards;
+he continues with horses; he will finish with worthless women!"
+
+"Mamma!" cried Micheline, wounded to the heart.
+
+"And your money will pay the piper!  But, happily, I am here to put your
+household matters right.  I am going to keep your gentleman so well under
+that in future he will walk straight, I'll warrant you!"
+
+Micheline rose and stood before her mother, looking so pale that the
+latter was frightened.
+
+"Mother," she said, in trembling tones, "if ever you say one word to my
+husband, take care!  I shall never see you again!"
+
+Madame Desvarennes flinched before her daughter.  It was no longer the
+weak Micheline who trusted to her tears, but a vehement woman ready to
+defend him whom she loved.  And as she remained silent, not daring to
+speak again:
+
+"Mother," continued Micheline, with sadness, yet firmly, "this
+explanation was inevitable; I have suffered beforehand, knowing that I
+should have to choose between my affection for my husband and my respect
+for you."
+
+"Between the one and the other," said the mistress, bitterly, "you don't
+hesitate, I see."
+
+"It is my duty; and if I failed in it, you yourself, with your good
+sense, would see it."
+
+"Oh!  Micheline, could I have expected to find you thus?"  cried the
+mother, in despair.  "What a change!  It is not you who are speaking;
+it is not my daughter.  Fool that you are!  Don't you see whither you
+are being led?  You, yourself, are preparing your own misfortune.
+Don't think that my words are inspired by jealousy.  A higher sentiment
+dictates them, and at this moment my maternal love gives me, I fear, a
+foresight of the future.  There is only just time to rescue you from the
+danger into which you are running.  You hope to retain your husband by
+your generosity?  There where you think you are giving proofs of love he
+will only see proofs of weakness.  If you make yourself cheap he will
+count you as nothing.  If you throw yourself at his feet he will trample
+on you."
+
+The Princess shook her head haughtily, and smiled.
+
+"You don't know him, mamma.  He is a gentleman; he understands all these
+delicacies, and there is more to be gained by submitting one's self to
+his discretion, than by trying to resist his will.  You blame his manner
+of existence, but you don't understand him.  I know him.  He belongs to a
+different race than you and I.  He needs refinements of luxury which
+would be useless to us, but the deprivation of which would be hard to
+him.  He suffered much when he was poor, he is making up for it now.
+We are guilty of some extravagances, 'tis true; but what does it matter?
+For whom have you made a fortune?  For me!  For what object?  My
+happiness!  Well, I am happy to surround my Prince with the glory and
+pomp which suits him so well.  He is grateful to me; he loves me, and I
+hold his love dearer than all else in the world; for if ever he ceases to
+love me I shall die!"
+
+"Micheline!"  cried Madame Desvarennes, beside herself, and seizing her
+daughter with nervous strength.
+
+The young wife quietly allowed her fair head to fall on her mother's
+shoulder, and whispered faintly in her ear:
+
+"You don't want to wreck my life.  I understand your displeasure.  It is
+natural; I feel it.  You cannot think otherwise than you do, being a
+simple, hardworking woman; but I beg of you to banish all hatred, and
+confine these ideas within yourself.  Say nothing more about them for
+love of me!"
+
+The mother was vanquished.  She had never been able to resist that
+suppliant voice.
+
+"Ah! cruel child," she moaned, "what pain you are causing me!"
+
+"You consent, don't you, dear mother?"  murmured Micheline, falling into
+the arms of her by whom she knew she was adored.
+
+"I will do as you wish," said Madame Desvarennes, kissing her daughter's
+hair--that golden hair which, in former days, she loved to stroke.
+
+The strains of the piano sounded on the terrace.  In the shade, groups of
+merry dancers were enjoying themselves.  Happy voices were heard
+approaching, and Savinien, followed by Marechal and Suzanne, came briskly
+up the steps.
+
+"Oh, aunt, it is not fair," said the dandy.  "If you have come here to
+monopolize Micheline, you will be sent back to Paris.  We want a vis-a
+-vis for a quadrille.  Come, Princess, it is delightfully cool outside,
+and I am sure you will enjoy it."
+
+"Monsieur Le Brede has gathered some oranges, and is trying to play at
+cup and ball with them on his nose, while his friend, Monsieur du
+Tremblay, jealous of his success, talks of illuminating the trees with
+bowls of punch," said Marechal.
+
+"And what is Serge doing?"  inquired Micheline, smiling.
+
+"He is talking to my wife on the terrace," said Cayrol, appearing in the
+gallery.
+
+The young people went off and were lost in the darkness.  Madame
+Desvarennes looked at Cayrol.  He was happy and calm.  There was no trace
+of his former jealousy.  During the six months which had elapsed since
+his marriage, the banker had observed his wife closely, her actions, her
+words: nothing had escaped him.  He had never found her at fault.  Thus,
+reassured, he had given her his confidence and this time forever.  Jeanne
+was adorable; he loved her more than ever.  She seemed very much changed
+to him.  Her disposition, formerly somewhat harsh, had softened, and the
+haughty, capricious girl had become a mild, demure, and somewhat serious
+woman.  Unable to read his companion's thoughts, Cayrol sincerely
+believed that he had been unnecessarily anxious, and that Jeanne's
+troubles had only been passing fancies.  He took credit of the change in
+his wife to himself, and was proud of it.
+
+"Cayrol, oblige me by removing that lamp; it hurts my eyes," said Madame
+Desvarennes, anxious that the traces on her face, caused by her late
+discussion with her daughter, should not be visible.  "Then ask Jeanne to
+come here for a few minutes.  I have something to say to her."
+
+"Certainly," said Cayrol, taking the lamp off the table and carrying it
+into the adjoining room.
+
+Darkness did Madame Desvarennes good.  It refreshed her mind and calmed
+her brow.  The noise of dancing reached her.  She commenced thinking.
+So it had vainly tried to prove to her that a life of immoderate pleasure
+was not conducive to happiness.  The young wife had stopped her ears so
+that she might not hear, and closed her eyes that she might not see.
+Her mother asked herself if she did not exaggerate the evil.  Alas! no.
+She saw that she was not mistaken.  Examining the society around her, men
+and women: everywhere was feverish excitement, dissipation, and nullity.
+You might rummage through their brains without finding one practical
+idea; in all their hearts, there was not one lofty aspiration.  These
+people, in their daily life were like squirrels in a cage, and because
+they moved, they thought they were progressing.  In them scepticism had
+killed belief; religion, family, country, were, as they phrased it, all
+humbug.  They had only one aim, one passion--to enjoy themselves.  Their
+watchword was "pleasure."  All those who did not perish of consumption
+would die in lunatic asylums.
+
+What was she doing in the midst of this rottenness?  She, the woman of
+business?  Could she hope to regenerate these poor wretches by her
+example?  No!  She could not teach them to be good, and they excelled in
+teaching others harm.  She must leave this gilded vice, taking with her
+those she loved, and leave the idle and incompetent to consume and
+destroy themselves.
+
+She felt disgusted, and resolved to do all to tear Micheline away from
+the contagion.  In the meantime she must question Jeanne.  A shadow
+appeared on the threshold: it was hers.  In the darkness of the gallery
+Serge crept behind her without being seen.  He had been watching Jeanne,
+and seeing her go away alone, had followed her.  In the angle of the
+large bay-window, opening into the garden, he waited with palpitating
+heart.  Madame Desvarennes's voice was heard in the silence of the
+drawing-room; he listened.
+
+"Sit down, Jeanne; our interview will be short, and it could not be
+delayed, for to-morrow I shall not be here."
+
+"You are leaving so soon?"
+
+"Yes; I only left Paris on my daughter's account, and on yours.  My
+daughter knows what I had to tell her; now it is your turn!  Why did you
+come to Nice?"
+
+"I could not do otherwise."
+
+"Because?"
+
+"Because my husband wished it."
+
+"You ought to have made him wish something else.  Your power over him is
+absolute."
+
+There was a moment's pause.  Then Jeanne answered:
+
+"I feared to insist lest I should awaken his suspicions."
+
+"Good!  But admitting that you came to Nice, why accept hospitality in
+this house?"
+
+"Micheline offered it to us," said Jeanne.
+
+"And even that did not make you refuse.  What part do you purpose playing
+here?  After six months of honesty, are you going to change your mind?"
+
+Serge, behind his shelter, shuddered.  Madame Desvarennes's words were
+clear.  She knew all.
+
+Jeanne's voice was indignant when she replied:
+
+"By what right do you insult me by such a suspicion?"
+
+"By the right which you have given me in not keeping to your bargain.
+You ought to have kept out of the way, and I find you here, seeking
+danger and already trying those flirtations which are the forerunners of
+sin, and familiarizing yourself with evil before wholly giving yourself
+up to it."
+
+"Madame!"  cried Jeanne, passionately.
+
+"Answer!  Have you kept the promise you made me?"
+
+"Have the hopes which you held out to me been realized?"  replied Jeanne,
+with despair.  "For six months I have been away, and have I found peace
+of mind and heart?  The duty which you pointed out to me as a remedy for
+the pain which tortured me I have fruitlessly followed.  I have wept,
+hoping that the trouble within me would be washed away with my tears.
+I have prayed to Heaven, and asked that I might love my husband.
+But, no!  That man is as odious to me as ever.  Now I have lost all my
+illusions, and find myself joined to him for the rest of my days!  I have
+to tell lies, to wear a mask, to smile!  It is revolting, and I suffer!
+Now that you know what is passing within me, judge, and say whether your
+reproaches are not a useless cruelty."
+
+On hearing Jeanne, Madame Desvarennes felt herself moved with deep pity.
+She asked herself whether it was not unjust for that poor child to suffer
+so much.  She had never done anything wrong, and her conduct was worthy
+of esteem.
+
+"Unhappy woman!"  she said.
+
+"Yes, unhappy, indeed," resumed Jeanne, "because I have nothing to cling
+to, nothing to sustain me.  My mind is afflicted with feverish thoughts,
+my heart made desolate with bitter regrets.  My will alone protects me,
+and in a moment of weakness it may betray me."
+
+"You still love him?"  asked Madame Desvarennes, in a deep voice which
+made Serge quiver.
+
+"Do I know?  There are times when I think I hate him.  What I have
+endured since I have been here is incredible!  Everything galls me,
+irritates me.  My husband is blind, Micheline unsuspicious, and Serge
+smiles quietly, as if he were preparing some treachery.  Jealousy, anger,
+contempt, are all conflicting within me.  I feel that I ought to go away,
+and still I feel a, horrible delight in remaining."
+
+"Poor child!"  said Madame Desvarennes.  "I pity you from my soul.
+Forgive my unjust words; you have done all in your power.  You have had
+momentary weaknesses like all human beings.  You must be helped, and may
+rely on me.  I will speak to your husband to-morrow; he shall take you
+away.  Lacking happiness, you must have peace.  Go you are a brave heart,
+and if Heaven be just, you will be rewarded."
+
+Serge heard the sound of a kiss.  In an embrace, the mother had blessed
+her adopted daughter.  Then the Prince saw Madame Desvarennes go slowly
+past him.  And the silence was broken only by the sobs of Jeanne who was
+half lying on the sofa in the darkness.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+THE TELLTALE KISS
+
+Serge slipped from his hiding-place and came toward Jeanne.  The carpet
+deadened the sound of his steps.  The young woman was gazing into vacancy
+and breathing with difficulty.  He looked at her for a moment without
+speaking; then, leaning over her shoulder.
+
+"Is it true, Jeanne," he murmured, softly, "that you hate me?"
+
+Jeanne arose, bewildered, exclaiming,
+
+"Serge!"
+
+"Yes, Serge," answered the Prince, "who has never ceased to love you."
+
+A deep blush spread over the young woman's face.
+
+"Leave me," she said.  "Your language is unworthy of a man.  I will not
+listen to you."
+
+And with a quick step she walked toward the gallery.  Serge threw himself
+in her way, saying:
+
+"You must stop; you cannot escape me."
+
+"But this is madness," exclaimed Jeanne, moving away.  "Do you forget
+where we are?"
+
+"Do you forget what you have just been saying?"  retorted Serge.  "I was
+there; I did not miss a word."
+
+"If you heard me," said Jeanne, "you know that everything separates us.
+My duty, yours, and my will."
+
+"A will which is enforced, and against which your heart rebels.  A will
+to which I will not submit."
+
+As he spoke, Serge advanced toward her, trying to seize her in his arms.
+
+"Take care!"  replied Jeanne.  "Micheline and my husband are there.  You
+must be mad to forget it.  If you come a step farther I shall call out."
+
+"Call, then!"  cried Serge, clasping her in his arms.
+
+Jeanne tried to free herself from him, but could not.
+
+"Serge," she said, paling with mingled anguish and rapture in the arms of
+him whom she adored, "what you are doing is cowardly and base!"
+
+A kiss stopped the words on her lips.  Jeanne felt herself giving way.
+She made a supreme effort.
+
+"I won't, Serge!"  she stammered.  "Have mercy!"
+
+Tears of shame rolled down her face.
+
+"No!  you belong to me.  The other, your husband, stole you from me.
+I take you back.  I love you!"
+
+The young woman fell on a seat.
+
+Serge repeated,
+
+"I love you!  I love you!  I love you!"
+
+A fearful longing took possession of Jeanne.  She no longer pushed away
+the arms which clasped her.  She placed her hands on Serge's shoulder,
+and with a deep sigh gave herself up.
+
+A profound silence reigned around.  Suddenly a sound of approaching
+voices roused them, and at the same moment the heavy curtain which
+separated the room from the adjoining drawing-room was lifted.  A shadow
+appeared on the threshold, as they were still in each other's arms.  The
+stifled exclamation, "O God!"  followed by a sob of agony, resounded.
+The door curtain fell, surrounding with its folds the unknown witness of
+that terrible scene.
+
+Jeanne had risen, trying to collect her ideas.  A sudden light dawned on
+her mind; she realized in a moment the extent of her crime, and uttering
+a cry of horror and despair, she escaped, followed by Serge, through the
+gallery.
+
+Then the heavy curtain was lifted again, and tottering, livid, almost
+dead, Micheline entered the room.  Pierre, serious and cold, walked
+behind her.  The Princess, feeling tired, had come into the house.
+Chance had led her there to witness this proof of misfortune and treason.
+
+Both she and Delarue looked at each other, silent and overwhelmed.  Their
+thoughts whirled through their brains with fearful rapidity.  In a moment
+they looked back on their existence.  He saw the pale betrothed of whom
+he had dreamed as a wife, who had willingly given herself to another,
+and who now found herself so cruelly punished.  She measured the distance
+which separated these two men: the one good, loyal, generous; the other
+selfish, base, and unworthy.  And seeing him whom she adored, so vile and
+base compared to him whom she had disdained, Micheline burst into bitter
+tears.
+
+Pierre tremblingly hastened toward her.  The Princess made a movement to
+check him, but she saw on the face of her childhood's friend such sincere
+grief and honest indignation, that she felt as safe, with him as if he
+had really been her brother.  Overcome, she let her head fall on his
+shoulder, and wept.
+
+The sound of approaching footsteps made Micheline arise.  She recognized
+her husband's step, and hastily seizing Pierre's hand, said:
+
+"Never breathe a word; forget what you have seen."
+
+Then, with deep grief, she added:
+
+"If Serge knew that I had seen him unawares he would never forgive me!"
+
+Drying her tears, and still tottering from the shock, she left the room.
+Pierre remained alone, quite stunned; pitying, yet blaming the poor
+woman, who, in her outraged love, still had the absurd courage to hold
+her tongue and to resign herself.  Anger seized on him, and the more
+timid Micheline seemed herself, the more violent and passionate he felt.
+
+Serge came back to the room.  After the first moment of excitement, he
+had reflected, and wanted to know by whom he had been observed.  Was it
+Madame Desvarennes, Micheline, or Cayrol, who had come in?  At this idea
+he trembled, measuring the possible results of the imprudence he had been
+guilty of.  He resolved to face the difficulty if it were either of these
+three interested parties, and to impose silence if he had to deal with an
+indifferent person.  He took the lamp which Madame Desvarennes had a
+short time before asked Cayrol to remove and went into the room.  Pierre
+was there alone.
+
+The two men measured each other with their looks.  Delarue guessed the
+anxiety of Serge, and the Prince understood the hostility of Pierre.  He
+turned pale.
+
+"It was you who came in?" he asked, boldly.
+
+"Yes," replied Pierre, with severity.
+
+The Prince hesitated for a second.  He was evidently seeking a polite
+form to express his request.  He did not find one, and in a threatening
+manner, he resumed:
+
+"You must hold your tongue, otherwise--"
+
+"Otherwise?"  inquired Pierce, aggressively.
+
+"What is the use of threats?"  replied Serge, already calmed.  "Excuse
+me; I know that you will not tell; if not for my sake at least for that
+of others."
+
+"Yes, for others," said Pierre, passionately; "for others whom you have
+basely sacrificed, and who deserve all your respect and love; for Madame
+Desvarennes, whose high intelligence you have not been able to
+understand; for Micheline, whose tender heart you have not been able to
+appreciate.  Yes, for their sakes I will hold my peace, not out of regard
+for you, because you neither deserve consideration nor esteem."
+
+The Prince advanced a step, and exclaimed:
+
+"Pierre!"
+
+Pierre did not move, and looking Serge in the face, continued:
+
+"The truth is unpleasant to you, still you must hear it.  You act
+according to your fancies.  Principles and morals, to which all men
+submit, are dead letters to you.  Your own pleasure above all things,
+and always!  That is your rule, eh?  and so much the worse if ruin and
+trouble to others are the consequences?  You only have to deal with two
+women, and you profit by it.  But I warn you that if you continue to
+crush them I will be their defender."
+
+Serge had listened to all this with disdainful impassibility, and when
+Pierre had finished, he smiled, snapped his fingers, and turning toward
+the young man:
+
+"My dear fellow," said he, "allow me to tell you that I think you are
+very impertinent.  You come here meddling with my affairs.  What
+authority have you?  Are you a relative?  A connection?  By what right do
+you preach this sermon?"
+
+As he concluded, Serge seated himself and laughed with a careless air.
+
+Pierre answered, gravely:
+
+"I was betrothed to Micheline when she saw and loved you: that is my
+right!  I could have married her, but sacrificed my love to hers: that
+is my authority!  And it is in the name of my shattered hopes and lost
+happiness that I call you to account for her future peace."
+
+Serge had risen, he was deeply embittered at what Delarue had just told
+him, and was trying to recover his calmness.  Pierre, trembling with
+emotion and anger, was also striving to check their influence.
+
+"It seems to me," said the Prince, mockingly, "that in your claim there
+is more than the outcry of an irritated conscience; it is the complaint
+of a heart that still loves."
+
+"And if that were so?"  retorted Pierre.  "Yes, I love her, but with a
+pious love, from the depth of my soul, as one would love a saint; and I
+only suffer the more to see her suffering."
+
+Somewhat irritated the Prince exclaimed, impatiently:
+
+"Oh, don't let us have a lyric recitation; let us be brief and clear.
+What do you want?  Explain yourself.  I don't suppose that you have
+addressed this rebuke to me solely for the purpose of telling me that
+you are in love with my wife!"
+
+Pierre disregarded what was insulting in the Prince's answer, and calming
+himself, by force of will, replied:
+
+"I desire, since you ask me, that you forget the folly and error of a
+moment, and that you swear to me on your honor never to see Madame Cayrol
+again."
+
+Pierre's moderation wounded the Prince more than his rage had affected
+him.  He felt petty beside this devoted friend, who only thought of the
+happiness of her whom he loved without hope.  His temper increased.
+
+"And what if I refuse to lend myself to those whims which you express so
+candidly?"
+
+"Then," said Pierre, resolutely, "I shall remember that, when renouncing
+Micheline, I promised to be a brother to her, and if you compel me I will
+defend her."
+
+"You are threatening me, I think," cried Serge, beside himself.
+
+"No! I warn you."
+
+"Enough," said the Prince, scarcely able to command himself.  "For any
+little service you have rendered me, from henceforth we are quits.  Don't
+think that I am one of those who yield to violence.  Keep out of my path;
+it will be prudent."
+
+"Listen, then, to this.  I am not one of those who shirk a duty,
+whatever the peril be in accomplishing it.  You know what price I put on
+Micheline's happiness; you are responsible for it, and I shall oblige you
+to respect it."
+
+And leaving Serge dumb with suppressed rage, Pierre went out on the
+terrace.
+
+On the high road the sound of the carriages bearing away Savinien, Herzog
+and his daughter, resounded in the calm starry night.  In the villa
+everything was quiet.  Pierre breathed with delight; he instinctively
+turned his eyes toward the brilliant sky, and in the far-off firmament,
+the star which he appropriated to himself long ago, and which he had so
+desperately looked for when he was unhappy, suddenly appeared bright and
+twinkling.  He sighed and moved on.
+
+The Prince spent a part of the night at the club; he was excessively
+nervous, and after alternate losses and gains, he retired, carrying off a
+goodly sum from his opponents.  It was a long time since he had been so
+lucky, and on his way home he smiled when he thought how false was the
+proverb, "Lucky at play, unlucky in love."  He thought of that adorable
+Jeanne whom he had held in his arms a few hours before, and who had so
+eagerly clung to him.  He understood that she had never ceased to belong
+to him.  The image of Cayrol, self-confident man, happy in his love,
+coming to his mind, caused Serge to laugh.
+
+There was no thought for Micheline; she had been the stepping-stone to
+fortune for him; he knew that she was gentle and thought her not very
+discerning.  He could easily deceive her; with a few caresses and a
+little consideration he could maintain the illusion of his love for her.
+Madame Desvarennes alone inconvenienced him in his arrangements.  She was
+sagacious, and on several occasions he had seen her unveil plots which he
+thought were well contrived.  He must really beware of her.  He had often
+noticed in her voice and look an alarming hardness.  She was not a woman
+to be afraid of a scandal.  On the contrary, she would hail it with joy,
+and be happy to get rid of him whom she hated with all her might.
+
+In spite of himself, Serge remembered the night of his union to
+Micheline, when he had said to Madame Desvarennes: "Take my life; it is
+yours!"  She had replied seriously, and almost threateningly: "Very well;
+I accept it!"  These words now resounded in his ears like a verdict.
+He promised himself to play a sure game with Madame Desvarennes.  As to
+Cayrol, he was out of the question; he had only been created as a
+plaything for princes such as Serge; his destiny was written on his
+forehead, and he could not escape.  If it had not been Panine, some one
+else would have done the same thing for him.  Besides, how could that
+ex-cowherd expect to keep such a woman as Jeanne was to himself.  It
+would have been manifestly unfair.
+
+The Prince found his valet asleep in the hall.  He went quickly to his
+bedroom, and slept soundly without remorse, without dreams, until noon.
+Coming down to breakfast, he found the family assembled.  Savinien had
+come to see his aunt, before whom he wanted to place a "colossal idea."
+This time, he said, it was worth a fortune.  He hoped to draw six
+thousand francs from the mistress who, according to her usual custom,
+could not fail to buy from him what he called his idea.
+
+The dandy was thoughtful; he was preparing his batteries.  Micheline,
+pale, and her eyes red for want of rest, was seated near the gallery,
+silently watching the sea, on which were passing, in the distance,
+fishing-smacks with their sails looking like white-winged birds.  Madame
+Desvarennes was serious, and was giving Marechal instructions respecting
+her correspondence, while at the same time watching her daughter out of
+the corner of her eye.  Micheline's depressed manner caused her some
+anxiety; she guessed some mystery.  Still the young wife's trouble might
+be the result of last evening's serious interview.  But the sagacity of
+the mistress guessed a new incident.  Perhaps some scene between Serge
+and Micheline in regard to the club.  She was on the watch.
+
+Cayrol and Jeanne had gone for a drive to Mentone.  With a single glance
+the Prince took in the attitude of one and all, and after a polite
+exchange of words and a careless kiss on Micheline's brow, he seated
+himself at table.  The repast was silent.  Each one seemed preoccupied.
+Serge anxiously asked himself whether Pierre had spoken.  Marechal,
+deeply interested in his plate, answered briefly, when addressed by
+Madame Desvarennes.  All the guests seemed constrained.  It was a relief
+when they rose from the table.
+
+Micheline took her husband's arm and leading him into the garden, under
+the shade of the magnolias, said to him:
+
+"My mother leaves us to-night.  She has received a letter recalling her
+to Paris.  Her journey here was, you no doubt know, on our account.  Our
+absence made her sad, and she could no longer refrain from seeing me, so
+she came.  On her return to Paris she will feel very lonely, and as I am
+so often alone--"
+
+"Micheline!"  interrupted Serge, with astonishment.
+
+"It is not a reproach, dear," continued the young wife, sweetly.  "You
+have your engagements.  There are necessities to which one must submit;
+you do what you think is expected of you, and it must be right.  Only
+grant me a favor."
+
+"A favor?  To you?"  replied Serge, troubled at the unexpected turn the
+interview was taking.  "Speak, dear one; are you not at liberty to do as
+you like?"
+
+"Well," said Micheline, with a faint smile, "as you are so kindly
+disposed, promise that we shall leave for Paris this week.  The season is
+far advancing.  All your friends will have returned.  It will not be such
+a great sacrifice which I ask from you."
+
+"Willingly," said Serge, surprised at Micheline's sudden resolution.
+"But, admit," added he, gravely, "that your mother has worried you a
+little on the subject."
+
+"My mother knows nothing of my project," returned the Princess, coldly.
+"I did not care to say anything about it to her until I had your consent.
+A refusal on your part would have seemed too cruel.  Already, you are not
+the best of friends, and it is one of my regrets.  You must be good to my
+mother, Serge; she is getting old, and we owe her much gratitude and
+love."
+
+Panine remained silent.  Could such a sudden change have come over
+Micheline in one day?  She who lately sacrificed her mother for her
+husband now came and pleaded in favor of Madame Desvarennes.  What had
+happened?
+
+He promptly decided on his course of action.
+
+"All that you ask me shall be religiously fulfilled.  No concession will
+be too difficult for me to make if it please you.  You wish to return to
+Paris, we will go as soon as our arrangements have been made.  Tell
+Madame Desvarennes, then, and let her see in our going a proof that I
+wish to live on good terms with her."
+
+Micheline simply said: "Thank you."  And Serge having gallantly kissed
+her hand, she regained the terrace.
+
+Left alone, Serge asked himself the meaning of the transformation in his
+wife.  For the first time she had shown signs of taking the initiative.
+Had the question of money been raised by Madame Desvarennes, and was
+Micheline taking him back to Paris in the hope of inducing a change in
+his habits?  They would see.  The idea that Micheline had seen him with
+Jeanne never occurred to him.  He did not think his wife capable of so
+much self-control.  Loving as she was, she could not have controlled her
+feelings, and would have made a disturbance.  Therefore he had no
+suspicions.
+
+As to their leaving for Paris he was delighted at the idea.  Jeanne and
+Cayrol were leaving Nice at the end of the week.  Lost in the vastness of
+the capital, the lovers would be more secure.  They could see each other
+at leisure.  Serge would hire a small house in the neighborhood of the
+Bois de Boulogne, and there they could enjoy each other's society without
+observation.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+CAYROL IS BLIND
+
+Micheline, on her return to Paris, was a cause of anxiety to all her
+friends.  Morally and physically she was changed.  Her former gayety had
+disappeared.  In a few weeks she became thin and seemed to be wasting
+away.  Madame Desvarennes, deeply troubled, questioned her daughter,
+who answered, evasively, that she was perfectly well and had nothing to
+trouble her.  The mother called in Doctor Rigaud, although she did not
+believe in the profession, and, after a long conference, took him to see
+Micheline.  The doctor examined her, and declared it was nothing but
+debility.  Madame Desvarennes was assailed with gloomy forebodings.
+She spent sleepless nights, during which she thought her daughter was
+dead; she heard the funeral dirges around her coffin.  This strong woman
+wept, not daring to show her anxiety, and trembling lest Micheline should
+suspect her fears.
+
+Serge was careless and happy, treating the apprehensions of those
+surrounding him with perfect indifference.  He did not think his wife was
+ill--a little tired perhaps, or it might be change of climate, nothing
+serious.  He had quite fallen into his old ways, spending every night at
+the club, and a part of the day in a little house in the Avenue Maillot,
+near the Bois de Boulogne.  He had found one charmingly furnished, and
+there he sheltered his guilty happiness.
+
+It was here that Jeanne came, thickly veiled, since her return from Nice.
+They each had a latchkey belonging to the door opening upon the Bois.
+The one who arrived first waited for the other, within the house, whose
+shutters remained closed to deceive passers-by.  Then the hour of
+departure came; the hope of meeting again did not lessen their sadness at
+parting.
+
+Jeanne seldom went to the Rue Saint-Dominique.  The welcome that
+Micheline gave her was the same as usual, but Jeanne thought she
+discovered a coldness which made her feel uncomfortable; and she did not
+care to meet her lover's wife, so she made her visits scarce.
+
+Cayrol came every morning to talk on business matters with Madame
+Desvarennes.  He had resumed the direction of his banking establishment.
+The great scheme of the European Credit Company had been launched by
+Herzog, and promised great results.  Still Herzog caused Cayrol
+considerable anxiety.  Although a man of remarkable intelligence,
+he had a great failing, and by trying to grasp too much often ended by
+accomplishing nothing.  Scarcely was one scheme launched when another
+idea occurred to him, to which he sacrificed the former.
+
+Thus, Herzog was projecting a still grander scheme to be based on the
+European Credit.  Cayrol, less sanguine, and more practical, was afraid
+of the new scheme, and when Herzog spoke to him about it, said that
+things were well enough for him as they were, and that he would not be
+implicated in any fresh financial venture however promising.
+
+Cayrol's refusal had vexed Herzog.  The German knew what opinion he was
+held in by the public, and that without the prestige of Cayrol's name,
+and behind that, the house of Desvarennes, he would never have been able
+to float the European Credit as it had been.  He was too cunning not to
+know this, and Cayrol having declined to join him, he looked round in
+search of a suitable person to inspire the shareholders with confidence.
+
+His daughter often went to the Rue Saint-Dominique.  Madame Desvarennes
+and Micheline had taken a fancy to her, as she was serious, natural, and
+homelike.  They liked to see her, although her father was not congenial
+to their taste.  Herzog had not succeeded in making friends with the
+mistress; she disliked and instinctively mistrusted him.
+
+One day it was rumored that Suzanne Herzog had gone in for an examination
+at the Hotel de Ville, and had gained a certificate: People thought it
+was very ridiculous.  What was the good of so much learning for a girl
+who would have such a large fortune, and who would never know want.
+Savinien thought it was affectation and most laughable!  Madame
+Desvarennes thought it was most interesting; she liked workers, and
+considered that the richer people were, the more reason they had to work.
+Herzog had allowed his daughter to please herself and said nothing.
+
+Springtime had come, and fine weather, yet Micheline's health did not
+improve.  She did not suffer, but a sort of languor had come over her.
+For days she never quitted her reclining-chair.  She was very
+affectionate toward her mother, and seemed to be making up for the lack
+of affection shown during the first months of her marriage.
+
+She never questioned Serge as to his manner of spending his time, though
+she seldom saw him, except at meal hours.  Every week she wrote to
+Pierre, who was buried in his mines, and after every despatch her mother
+noticed that she seemed sadder and paler.
+
+Serge and Jeanne grew bolder.  They felt that they were not watched.
+The little house seemed too small for them, and they longed to go beyond
+the garden, as the air of the Bois was so sweet and scented with violets.
+A feeling of bravado came over them, and they did not mind being seen
+together.  People would think they were a newly-married couple.
+
+One afternoon they sallied forth, Jeanne wearing a thick veil, and
+trembling at the risk she was running, yet secretly delighted at going.
+They chose the most unfrequented paths and solitary nooks.  Then, after
+an hour's stroll, they returned briskly, frightened at the sounds of
+carriages rolling in the distance.  They often went out after that,
+and chose in preference the paths near the pond of Madrid where, behind
+sheltering shrubs, they sat talking and listening to the busy hum of
+Parisian life, seemingly so far away.
+
+One day, about four o'clock, Madame Desvarennes was going to Saint-Cloud
+on business, and was crossing the Bois de Boulogne.  Her coachman had
+chosen the most unfrequented paths to save time.  She had opened the
+carriage-window, and was enjoying the lovely scent from the shrubs.
+Suddenly a watering-cart stopped the way.  Madame Desvarennes looked
+through the window to see what was the matter, and remained stupefied.
+At the turning of a path she espied Serge, with a woman on his arm.  She
+uttered a cry that caused the couple to turn round.  Seeing that pale
+face, they sought to hide themselves.
+
+In a moment Madame Desvarennes was out of the carriage.  The guilty
+couple fled down a path.  Without caring what might be said of her,
+and goaded on by a fearful rage, she tried to follow them.
+She especially wished to see the woman who was closely veiled.
+She guessed her to be Jeanne.  But the younger woman, terrified,
+fled like a deer down a side walk.  Madame Desvarennes, quite out of
+breath, was obliged to stop.  She heard the slamming of a carriage-door,
+and a hired brougham that had been waiting at the end of the path swept
+by her bearing the lovers toward the town.
+
+The mistress hesitated a moment, then said to her coachman:
+
+"Drive home."  And, abandoning her business, she arrived in the Rue
+Saint-Dominique a few minutes after the Prince.
+
+With a bound, without going through the offices, without even taking off
+her bonnet and cloak, she went up to Serge's apartments.  Without
+hesitating, she entered the smoking-room.
+
+Panine was there.  Evidently he was expecting her.  On seeing Madame
+Desvarennes he rose, with a smile:
+
+"One can see that you are at home," said he, ironically; "you come in
+without knocking."
+
+"No nonsense; the moment is ill-chosen," briefly retorted the mistress.
+"Why did you run away when you saw me a little while ago?"
+
+"You have such a singular way of accosting people," he answered, lightly.
+"You come on like a charge of cavalry.  The person with whom I was
+talking was frightened, she ran away and I followed her."
+
+"She was doing wrong then if she was frightened.  Does she know me?"
+
+"Who does not know you?  You are almost notorious--in the corn-market!"
+
+Madame Desvarennes allowed the insult to pass without remark, and
+advancing toward Serge, said:
+
+"Who is this woman?"
+
+"Shall I introduce her to you?"  inquired the Prince, quietly.  "She is
+one of my countrywomen, a Polish--"
+
+"You are a liar!"  cried Madame Desvarennes, unable to control her temper
+any longer.  "You are lying most impudently!"
+
+And she was going to add, "That woman was Jeanne!" but prudence checked
+the sentence on her lips.
+
+Serge turned pale.
+
+"You forget yourself strangely, Madame," he said, in a dry tone.
+
+"I forgot myself a year ago, not now!  It was when I was weak that I
+forgot myself.  When Micheline was between you and me I neither dared to
+speak nor act.
+
+"But now, since after almost ruining my poor daughter, you deceive her, I
+have no longer any consideration for you.  To make her come over to my
+side I have only to speak one word."
+
+"Well, speak it!  She is there.  I will call her!"
+
+Madame Desvarennes, in that supreme moment, was assailed by a doubt.
+What if Micheline, in her blind love, did not believe her?
+
+She raised her hand to stop Serge.
+
+"Will not the fear of killing my daughter by this revelation stay you?"
+asked she, bitterly.  "What manner of man are you to have so little heart
+and conscience?"
+
+Panine burst into laughter.
+
+"You see what your threats are worth, and what value I place on them.
+Spare them in the future.  You ask me what manner of man I am?  I will
+tell you.  I have not much patience, I hate to have my liberty interfered
+with, and I have a horror of family jars.  I expect to be master of my
+own house."
+
+Madame Desvarennes was roused at these words.  Her rage had abated on her
+daughter's account, but now it rose to a higher pitch.
+
+"Ah! so this is it, is it?"  she said.  "You would like perfect liberty,
+I see!  You make such very good use of it.  You don't like to hear
+remarks upon it.  It is more convenient, in fact!  You wish to be master
+in your own house?  In your own house!  But, in truth, what are you here
+to put on airs toward me?  Scarcely more than a servant.  A husband
+receiving wages from me!"
+
+Serge, with flashing eyes, made a terrible movement.  He tried to speak,
+but his lips trembled, and he could not utter a sound.  By a sign he
+showed Madame Desvarennes the door.  The latter looked resolutely at the
+Prince, and with energy which nothing could henceforth soften, added:
+
+"You will have to deal with me in future!  Good-day!"
+
+And, leaving the room with as much calmness as she felt rage when
+entering it, she went down to the countinghouse.
+
+Cayrol was sitting chatting with Marechal in his room.  He was telling
+him that Herzog's rashness caused him much anxiety.  Marechal did not
+encourage his confidence.  The secretary's opinion on the want of
+morality on the part of the financier had strengthened.  The good feeling
+he entertained toward the daughter had not counterbalanced the bad
+impression he had of the father, and he warmly advised Cayrol to break
+off all financial connection with such a man.  Cayrol, indeed, had now
+very little to do with the European Credit.  The office was still at his
+banking house, and the payments for shares were still made into his bank,
+but as soon as the new scheme which Herzog was preparing was launched,
+the financier intended settling in splendid offices which were being
+rapidly completed in the neighborhood of the Opera.  Herzog might
+therefore commit all the follies which entered his head.  Cayrol would be
+out of it.
+
+Madame Desvarennes entered.  At the first glance, the men noticed the
+traces of the emotion she had just experienced.  They rose and waited in
+silence.  When the mistress was in a bad humor everybody gave way to her.
+It was the custom.  She nodded to Cayrol, and walked up and down the
+office, absorbed in her own thoughts.  Suddenly stopping, she said:
+
+"Marechal, prepare Prince Panine's account."
+
+The secretary looked up amazed, and did not seem to understand.
+
+"Well!  The Prince has had an overdraft; you will give me a statement;
+that's all!  I wish to see how we two stand."
+
+The two men, astonished to hear Madame Desvarennes speak of her son-in-
+law as she would of a customer, exchanged looks.
+
+"You have lent my son-in-law money, Cayrol?"
+
+And as the banker remained silent, still looking at the secretary, Madame
+added:
+
+"Does the presence of Marechal make you hesitate in answering me?  Speak
+before him; I have told you more than a hundred times that he knows my
+business as well as I do."
+
+"I have, indeed, advanced some money to the Prince," replied Cayrol.
+
+"How much?"  inquired Madame Desvarennes.
+
+"I don't remember the exact amount.  I was happy to oblige your son-in-
+law."
+
+"You were wrong, and have acted unwisely in not acquainting me of the
+fact.  It is thus that his follies have been encouraged by obliging
+friends.  At all events, I ask you now not to lend him any more."
+
+Cayrol seemed put out, and, with his hands in his pockets and his
+shoulders up, replied:
+
+"This is a delicate matter which you ask of me.  You will cause a quarrel
+between the Prince and myself--"
+
+"Do you prefer quarreling with me?"  asked the mistress.
+
+"Zounds!  No!"  replied the banker.  "But you place me in an embarrassing
+position!  I have just promised to lend Serge a considerable sum
+to-night."
+
+"Well!  you will not give it to him."
+
+"That is an act which he will scarcely forgive," sighed Cayrol.
+
+Madame Desvarennes placed her hand on the shoulder of the banker, and
+looking seriously at him, said:
+
+"You would not have forgiven me if I had allowed you to render him this
+service."
+
+A vague uneasiness filled Cayrol's heart, a shadow seemed to pass before
+his eyes, and in a troubled voice he said to the mistress:
+
+"Why so?"
+
+"Because he would have repaid you badly."
+
+Cayrol thought the mistress was alluding to the money he had already
+lent, and his fears vanished.  Madame Desvarennes would surely repay it.
+
+"So you are cutting off his resources?"  he asked.
+
+"Completely," answered the mistress.  "He takes too much liberty, that
+young gentleman.  He was wrong to forget that I hold the purse-strings.
+I don't mind paying, but I want a little deference shown me for my money.
+Good-by!  Cayrol, remember my instructions."
+
+And, shaking hands with the banker, Madame Desvarennes entered her own
+office, leaving the two men together.
+
+There was a moment's pause: Cayrol was the first to break the silence.
+
+"What do you think of the Prince's position?"
+
+"His financial position?"  asked Marechal.
+
+"Oh, no!  I know all about that!  I mean his relation to Madame
+Desvarennes."
+
+"Zounds!  If we were in Venice in the days of the Aqua-Toffana, the
+sbirri and the bravi--"
+
+"What rubbish!"  interrupted Cayrol, shrugging his shoulders.
+
+"Let me continue," said the secretary, "and you can shrug your shoulders
+afterward if you like.  If we had been in Venice, knowing Madame
+Desvarennes as I do, it would not have been surprising to me to have had
+Master Serge found at the bottom of the canal some fine morning."
+
+"You are not in earnest," muttered the banker.
+
+"Much more so than you think.  Only you know we live in the nineteenth
+century, and we cannot make Providence interpose in the form of a dagger
+or poison so easily as in former days.  Arsenic and verdigris are
+sometimes used, but it does not answer.  Scientific people have had the
+meanness to invent tests by which poison can be detected even when there
+is none."
+
+"You are making fun of me," said Cayrol, laughing.
+
+"I!  No.  Come, do you wish to do a good stroke of business?  Find a man
+who will consent to rid Madame Desvarennes of her son-in-law.  If he
+succeed, ask Madame Desvarennes for a million francs.  I will pay it at
+only twenty-five francs' discount, if you like!"
+
+Cayrol was thoughtful.  Marechal continued:
+
+"You have known the house a long time, how is it you don't understand
+the mistress better?  I tell you, and remember this: between Madame
+Desvarennes and the Prince there is a mortal hatred.  One of the two
+will destroy the other.  Which?  Betting is open."
+
+"But what must I do?  The Prince relies on me--"
+
+"Go and tell him not to do so any longer."
+
+"Faith, no!  I would rather he came to my office.  I should be more at
+ease.  Adieu, Marechal."
+
+"Adieu, Monsieur Cayrol.  But on whom will you bet?"
+
+"Before I venture I should like to know on whose side the Princess is."
+
+"Ah, dangler!  You think too much of the women!  Some day you will be let
+in through that failing of yours!"
+
+Cayrol smiled conceitedly, and went away.  Marechal sat down at his desk,
+and took out a sheet of paper.
+
+"I must tell Pierre that everything is going on well here," he murmured.
+"If he knew what was taking place he would soon be back, and might be
+guilty of some foolery or other."  So he commenced writing.
+
+
+
+
+ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:
+
+Because they moved, they thought they were progressing
+Everywhere was feverish excitement, dissipation, and nullity
+It was a relief when they rose from the table
+Money troubles are not mortal
+One amuses one's self at the risk of dying
+Scarcely was one scheme launched when another idea occurred
+Talk with me sometimes.  You will not chatter trivialities
+They had only one aim, one passion--to enjoy themselves
+Without a care or a cross, he grew weary like a prisoner
+
+
+
+
+End of this Project Gutenberg Etext of Serge Panine, v3
+by Georges Ohnet
+
+
+
+
+
+
+SERGE PANINE
+
+By GEORGES OHNET
+
+
+
+BOOK 4.
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+THE UNIVERSAL CREDIT COMPANY
+
+The banking-house of Cayrol had not a very imposing appearance.  It was
+a narrow two-storied building, the front blackened by time.  There was a
+carriage gateway, on the right-hand side of which was the entrance to the
+offices.  The stairs leading to the first floor were covered by a well-
+worn carpet.  Here was a long corridor into which the different offices
+opened.  On their glass doors might be read: "Payments of dividends."
+"Accounts."  "Foreign correspondence."  "General office."  Cayrol's own
+room was quite at the end, and communicated with his private apartments.
+Everything breathed of simplicity and honesty.  Cayrol had never tried to
+throw dust into people's eyes.  He had started modestly when opening the
+bank; his business had increased, but his habits had remained the same.
+It was not a difficult matter to obtain an interview, even by people not
+known to him.  They sent in their cards, and were admitted to his
+sanctum.
+
+It was amid the coming and going of customers and clerks that Prince
+Panine came the following day to find Cayrol.  For the first time Serge
+had put himself out for the banker.  He was introduced with marks of the
+most profound respect.  The great name of Desvarennes seemed to cast a
+kind of halo round his head in the eyes of the clerks.
+
+Cayrol, a little embarrassed, but still resolute, went toward him.  Serge
+seemed nervous and somewhat abrupt in manner.  He foresaw some
+difficulty.
+
+"Well!  my dear fellow," he said, without sitting down.  "What are you up
+to?  I have waited since yesterday for the money you promised me."
+
+Cayrol scratched his ear, and felt taken aback by this plain speaking.
+
+"The fact is--" stammered he.
+
+"Have you forgotten your engagement?"  asked Serge, frowning.
+
+"No," replied Cayrol, speaking slowly, "but I met Madame Desvarennes
+yesterday."
+
+"And what had that to do with your intentions?"
+
+"Zounds!  It had everything to do with them.  Your mother-in-law made a
+scene, and forbade my lending you any money.  You must understand, my
+dear Prince, that my relations with Madame Desvarennes are important.
+I hold a great deal of money of hers in my bank.  She first gave me a
+start.  I cannot, without appearing ungrateful, act contrary to her will.
+Place yourself in my position, and judge impartially of the terrible
+alternative between obliging you and displeasing my benefactress."
+
+"Don't cry; it is useless," said Serge, with a scornful laugh.  "I
+sympathize with your troubles.  You side with the money-bags.  It remains
+to be seen whether you will gain by it."
+
+"My dear Prince, I swear to you that I am in despair," cried Cayrol,
+annoyed at the turn the interview was taking.  "Listen; be reasonable!
+I don't know what you have done to your mother-in-law, but she seems much
+vexed with you.  In your place I would rather make a few advances than
+remain hostile toward Madame Desvarennes.  That would mend matters, you
+see.  Flies are not to be caught with vinegar."
+
+Serge looked contemptuously at Cayrol, and put on his hat with supreme
+insolence.
+
+"Pardon me, my dear fellow; as a banker you are excellent when you have
+any money to spare, but as a moralist you are highly ridiculous."
+
+And, turning on his heel, he quitted the office, leaving Cayrol quite
+abashed.  He passed along the corridor switching his cane with suppressed
+rage.  Madame Desvarennes had, with one word, dried up the source from
+which he had been drawing most of the money which he had spent during the
+last three months.  He had to pay a large sum that evening at the club,
+and he did not care to apply to the money-lenders of Paris.
+
+He went down the stairs wondering how he would get out of this scrape!
+Go to Madame Desvarennes and humble himself as Cayrol advised?  Never!
+He regretted, for a moment, the follies which had led him into this
+difficulty.  He ought to have been able to live on two hundred thousand
+francs a year!  He had squandered money foolishly, and now the
+inexhaustible well from which he had drawn his treasure was closed
+by an invincible will.
+
+He was crossing the gateway, when a well-known voice struck his ear, and
+he turned round.  Herzog, smiling in his enigmatical manner, was before
+him.  Serge bowed, and wanted to pass on, but the financier put his hand
+on his arm, saying:
+
+"What a hurry you are in, Prince.  I suppose your pocketbook is full of
+notes, and you are afraid of being plundered."
+
+And with his finger, Herzog touched the silver mounted pocketbook, the
+corner of which was peeping out of the Prince's pocket.  Panine could not
+control a gesture of vexation, which made the financier smile.
+
+"Am I wrong?"  asked Herzog.  "Can our friend Cayrol have refused your
+request?  By-the-bye, did you not quarrel with Madame Desvarennes
+yesterday?  Whoever was it told me that?  Your mother-in-law spoke of
+cutting off all your credit, and from your downcast look I guess that
+fool Cayrol has obeyed the orders he has received."
+
+Serge, exasperated and stamping with rage, wanted to speak, but it was no
+easy matter interrupting Herzog.  Besides, there was something in the
+latter's look which annoyed Serge.  His glance seemed to be fathoming the
+depths of Panine's pockets, and the latter instinctively tightened his
+arms across his chest, so that Herzog might not see that his pocketbook
+was empty.
+
+"What are you talking about?"  asked Serge, at last, with a constrained
+smile.
+
+"About things which must greatly interest you," said Herzog, familiarly.
+"Come, be sincere.  Cayrol has just refused you a sum of money.  He's a
+simpleton!  How much do you want?  Will a hundred thousand francs do just
+now?"
+
+And writing a few words on a check, the financier handed it to Serge,
+adding:
+
+"A man of your position should not be in any difficulty for such a paltry
+sum!"
+
+"But, sir," said Serge, astonished, and pushing away Herzog's hand.
+
+"Accept it, and don't feel indebted to me.  It is hardly worth while
+between you and me."
+
+And taking Panine's arm Herzog walked on with him.
+
+"Your carriage is there?  all right, mine will follow.  I want to talk to
+you.  Your troubles cannot last.  I will show you the means of
+extricating yourself and that without delay, my dear sir."
+
+And without consulting Panine he seated himself beside him in the
+carriage.
+
+"I told you once, if you remember," continued the financier, "that I
+might prove useful to you.  You were haughty, and I did not insist; yet
+you see the day has come.  Let me speak frankly with you.  It is my usual
+manner, and there is some good in it."
+
+"Speak," answered Serge, rather puzzled.
+
+"You find yourself at this moment, vulgarly speaking, left in the lurch.
+Your wants are many and your resources few."
+
+"At least--" protested Serge.
+
+"Good!  There you are refractory," said the financier, laughingly, "and I
+have not finished.  The day after your marriage you formed your household
+on a lavish footing; you gave splendid receptions; you bought race-
+horses; in short, you went the pace like a great lord.  Undoubtedly it
+costs a lot of money to keep up such an establishment.  As you spent
+without counting the cost, you confounded the capital with the interest,
+so that at this moment you are three parts ruined.  I don't think you
+would care to change your mode of living, and it is too late in the day
+to cut down expenses and exist on what remains?  No.  Well, to keep up
+your present style you need at least a million francs every year."
+
+"You calculate like Cocker," remarked Serge, smiling with some
+constraint.
+
+"That is my business," answered Herzog.  "There are two ways by which you
+can obtain that million.  The first is by making it up with your mother-
+in-law, and consenting, for money, to live under her dominion.  I know
+her, she will agree to this."
+
+"But," said Serge, "I refuse to submit."
+
+"In that case you must get out of your difficulties alone."
+
+"And how?"  inquired the Prince, with astonishment.
+
+Herzog looked at him seriously.
+
+"By entering on the path which I am ready to open up to you," replied
+Herzog, "and in which I will guide you.  By going in for business."
+
+Serge returned Herzog's glance and tried to read his face, but found him
+impenetrable.
+
+"To go into business one needs experience, and I have none."
+
+"Mine will suffice," retorted the financier.
+
+"Or money," continued the Prince," and I have none, either."
+
+"I don't ask money from you.  I offer you some."
+
+"What, then, do I bring into the concern?"
+
+"The prestige of your name, and your relations with Madame Desvarennes."
+
+The Prince answered, haughtily:
+
+"My relations are personal, and I doubt whether they will serve you.  My
+mother-in-law is hostile, and will do nothing for me.  As to my name, it
+does not belong to me, it belongs to those who bore it nobly before me."
+
+"Your relations will serve me," said Herzog.  "I am satisfied.  Your
+mother-in-law cannot get out of your being her daughter's husband, and
+for that you are worth your weight in gold.  As to your name, it is just
+because it has been nobly borne that it is valuable.  Thank your
+ancestors, therefore, and make the best of the only heritage they left
+you.  Besides, if you care to examine things closely, your ancestors will
+not have reason to tremble in their graves.  What did they do formerly?
+They imposed taxes on their vassals and extorted money from the
+vanquished.  We financiers do the same.  Our vanquished are the
+speculators; our vassals the shareholders.  And what a superiority there
+is about our proceedings!  There is no violence.  We persuade; we
+fascinate; and the money flows into our coffers.  What do I say?  They
+beseech us to take it.  We reign without contest.  We are princes, too
+princes of finance.  We have founded an aristocracy as proud and as
+powerful as the old one.  Feudality of nobility no longer exists; it has
+given way to that of money."
+
+Serge laughed.  He saw what Herzog was driving at.
+
+"Your great barons of finance are sometimes subject to executions," said
+he.
+
+"Were not Chalais, Cinq-Mars, Biron, and Montmorency executed?"  asked
+Herzog, with irony.
+
+"That was on a scaffold," replied Panine.
+
+"Well!  the speculator's scaffold is the Bourse!  But only small dabblers
+in money succumb; the great ones are safe from danger.  They are
+supported in their undertakings by such powerful and numerous interests
+that they cannot fail without involving public credit; even governments
+are forced to come to their aid.  One of these powerful and
+indestructible enterprises I have dreamed of grafting on to the European
+Credit Company, the Universal Credit Company.  Its very name is a
+programme in itself.  To stretch over the four quarters of the globe like
+an immense net, and draw into its meshes all financial speculators: such
+is its aim.  Nobody will be able to withstand us.  I am offering you
+great things, but I dream of still greater.  I have ideas.  You will see
+them developed, and will profit by them, if you join my fortunes.  You
+are ambitious, Prince.  I guessed it; but your ambition hitherto has been
+satisfied with small things--luxurious indulgences and triumphs of
+elegance!  What are these worth to what I can give you?  The sphere in
+which you move is narrow.  I will make it immense.  You will no longer
+reign over a small social circle, you will rule a world."
+
+Serge, more affected than he cared to show, tried to banter.
+
+"Are you repeating the prologue to Faust?"  asked he.  "Where is your
+magical compact?  Must I sign it?"
+
+"Not at all.  Your consent is sufficient.  Look into the business, study
+it at your leisure, and measure the results; and then if it suit you, you
+can sign a deed of partnership.  Then in a few years you may possess a
+fortune surpassing all that you have dreamed of."
+
+The financier remained silent.  Serge was weighing the question.  Herzog
+was happy; he had shown himself to all Paris in company with Madame
+Desvarennes's son-in-law.  He had already realized one of his projects.
+The carriage was just passing down the Champs Elysees.  The weather was
+lovely, and in the distance could be seen the trees of the Tuileries and
+the different monuments of the Place de la Concorde bathed in blue mist.
+Groups of horsemen were cantering along the side avenues.  Long files of
+carriages were rolling rapidly by with well-dressed ladies.  The capital
+displayed at that hour all the splendor of its luxury.  It was Paris in
+all its strength and gayety.
+
+Herzog stretched out his hand, and calling the Prince's attention to the
+sight, said:
+
+"There's your empire!"
+
+Then, looking at him earnestly, he asked:
+
+"Is it agreed?"
+
+Serge hesitated for a moment, and then bowed his head, saying:
+
+"It is agreed."
+
+Herzog pulled the check-string communicating with the coachman and
+alighted.
+
+"Good-by," said he to Panine.
+
+He slipped into his own carriage, which had followed closely behind, and
+drove off.
+
+From that day, even Jeanne had a rival.  The fever of speculation had
+seized on Serge; he had placed his little finger within the wheels and he
+must follow--body, name, and soul.  The power which this new game
+exercised over him was incredible.  It was quite different to the stupid
+games at the club, always the same.  On the Bourse, everything was new,
+unexpected, sudden, and formidable.  The intensity of the feelings were
+increased a hundredfold, owing to the importance of the sums risked.
+
+It was really a splendid sight to see Herzog manipulating matters,
+maneuvering with a miraculous dexterity millions of francs.  And then the
+field for operations was large.  Politics, the interests of nations, were
+the mainsprings which impelled the play, and the game assumed diplomatic
+vastness and financial grandeur.
+
+From his private office Herzog issued orders, and whether his ability was
+really extraordinary, or whether fortune exceptionally favored him,
+success was certain.  Serge, from the first week, realized considerable
+sums.  This brilliant success threw him in a state of great excitement.
+He believed everything that Herzog said to him as if it were gospel.  He
+saw the world bending under the yoke which he was about to impose upon
+it.  People working and toiling every day were doing so for him alone,
+and like one of those kings who had conquered the world, he pictured all
+the treasures of the earth laid at his feet.  From that time he lost the
+sense of right and wrong.  He admitted the unlikely, and found the
+impossible quite natural.  He was a docile tool in the hands of Herzog.
+
+The rumor of this unforeseen change in Panine's circumstances soon
+reached Madame Desvarennes's ears.  The mistress was frightened, and sent
+for Cayrol, begging him to remain a director of the European Credit, in
+order to watch the progress of the new affair.  With her practical common
+sense, she foresaw disasters, and even regretted that Serge had not
+confined himself to cards and reckless living.
+
+Cayrol was most uneasy, and made a confidant of his wife, who, deeply
+troubled, told Panine the fears his friends entertained on his account.
+The Prince smiled disdainfully, saying these fears were the effect of
+plebeian timidity.  The mistress understood nothing of great
+speculations, and Cayrol was a narrow-minded banker!  He knew what he was
+doing.  The results of his speculations were mathematical.  So far they
+had not disappointed his hopes.  The great Universal Credit Company, of
+which he was going to be a director, would bring him in such an immense
+fortune that he would be independent of Madame Desvarennes.
+
+Jeanne, terrified at this blind confidence, tried to persuade him.  Serge
+took her in his arms, kissed her, and banished her fears.
+
+Madame Desvarennes had forbidden her people to tell Micheline anything of
+what was going on, as she wished her to remain in perfect ignorance.  By
+a word, the mistress, if she could not have prevented the follies of
+which Serge was guilty, could, at least, have spared herself and her
+daughter.  It would have only been necessary to reveal his behavior and
+betrayal to Micheline, and to provoke a separation.  If the house of
+Desvarennes were no longer security for Panine, his credit would fall.
+Disowned by his mother-in-law, and publicly given up by her, he would be
+of no use to Herzog, and would be promptly thrown over by him.  The
+mistress did not wish her daughter to know the heartrending truth.  She
+would not willingly cause her to shed tears, and therefore preferred
+risking ruin.
+
+Micheline, too, tried to hide her troubles from her mother.  She knew too
+well that Serge would have the worst of it if he got into her black
+books.  With the incredible persistence of a loving heart, she hoped to
+win back Serge.  Thus a terrible misunderstanding caused these two women
+to remain inactive and silent, when, by united efforts, they might,
+perhaps, have prevented dangers.
+
+The great speculation was already being talked about.  Herzog was boldly
+placing his foot on the summit whereon the five or six demigods, who
+ruled the stock market, were firmly placed.  The audacious encroachments
+of this newcomer had vexed these formidable potentates, and already they
+had decided secretly his downfall because he would not let them share in
+his profits.
+
+One morning, the Parisians, on awakening, found the walls placarded with
+notices advertising the issue of shares in the Universal Credit Company,
+and announcing the names of the directors, among which appeared that of
+the Prince.  Some were members of the Legion d'Honneur; others recent
+members of the Cabinet Council, and Prefets retired into private life.
+A list of names to dazzle the public, but all having a weak point.
+
+This created a great sensation in the business world.  Madame
+Desvarennes's son-in-law was on the board.  It was a good speculation,
+then?  People consulted the mistress, who found herself somewhat in a
+dilemma; either she must disown her son-in-law, or speak well of the
+affair.  Still she did not hesitate, for she was loyal and honest above
+all things.  She declared the speculation was a poor one, and did all she
+could to prevent any of her friends becoming shareholders.
+
+The issue of shares was disastrous.  The great banks remained hostile,
+and capitalists were mistrustful.  Herzog landed a few million francs.
+Doorkeepers and cooks brought him their savings.  He covered expenses.
+But it was no use advertising and puffing in the newspapers, as a word
+had gone forth which paralyzed the speculation.  Ugly rumors were afloat.
+Herzog's German origin was made use of by the bankers, who whispered that
+the aim of the Universal Credit Company was exclusively political.  It
+was to establish branch banks in every part of the world to further the
+interests of German industry.  Further, at a given moment, Germany might
+have need of a loan in case of war, and the Universal Credit Company
+would be there to supply the necessary aid to the great military nation.
+
+Herzog was not a man to be put down without resisting, and he made
+supreme efforts to float his undertaking.  He caused a number of unissued
+shares to be sold on 'Change, and had them bought up by his own men, thus
+creating a fictitious interest in the company.  In a few days the shares
+rose and were at a premium, simply through the jobbery to which Herzog
+lent himself.
+
+Panine was little disposed to seek for explanations, and, besides, had
+such unbounded faith in his partner that he suspected nothing.  He
+remained in perfect tranquillity.  He had increased his expenditure, and
+his household was on a royal footing.  Micheline's sweetness emboldened
+him; he no longer took the trouble of dissimulating, and treated his
+young wife with perfect indifference.
+
+Jeanne and Serge met every day at the little house in the Avenue Maillot.
+Cayrol was too much engaged with the new anxieties which Herzog caused
+him, to look after his wife, and left her quite free to amuse herself.
+Besides, he had not the least suspicion.  Jeanne, like all guilty women,
+overwhelmed him with kind attentions, which the good man mistook for
+proofs of love.  The fatal passion was growing daily stronger in the
+young woman's heart, and she would have found it impossible to have given
+up her dishonorable happiness with Panine.  She felt herself capable of
+doing anything to preserve her lover.
+
+Jeanne had already said, "Oh! if we were but free!"  And they formed
+projects.  They would go away to Lake Lugano, and, in a villa hidden by
+trees and shrubs, would enjoy the pleasures of being indissolubly united.
+The woman was more eager than the man in giving way to these visions of
+happiness.  She sometimes said, "What hinders us now?  Let us go."  But
+Serge, prudent and discreet, even in the most affectionate moments, led
+Jeanne to take a more sensible view.  What was the use of a scandal?  Did
+they not belong to each other?
+
+Then the young woman reproached him for not loving her as much as she
+loved him.  She was tired of dissimulating; her husband was an object of
+horror to her, and she had to tell him untruths and submit to his
+caresses which were revolting to her.  Serge calmed her with a kiss, and
+bade her wait awhile.
+
+Pierre, rendered anxious on hearing that Serge had joined Herzog in his
+dangerous financial speculations, had left his mines and had just
+arrived.  The letters which Micheline addressed to the friend of her
+youth, her enforced confidant in trouble, were calm and resigned.  Full
+of pride, she had carefully hidden from Pierre the cause of her troubles.
+He was the last person by whom she would like to be pitied, and her
+letters had represented Serge as repentant and full of good feeling.
+Marechal, for similar reasons, had kept his friend in the dark.  He
+feared Pierre's interference, and he wished to spare Madame Desvarennes
+the grief of seeing her adopted son quarreling with her son-in-law.
+
+But the placards announcing the establishment of the Universal Credit
+Company made their way into the provinces, and one morning Pierre found
+some stuck on the walls of his establishment.  Seeing the name of Panine,
+and not that of Cayrol, Pierre shuddered.  The unpleasant ideas which he
+experienced formerly when Herzog was introduced to the Desvarennes
+recurred to his mind.  He wrote to the mistress to ask what was going on,
+and not receiving an answer, he started off without hesitation for Paris.
+
+He found Madame Desvarennes in a terrible state of excitement.  The
+shares had just fallen a hundred and twenty francs.  A panic had ensued.
+The affair was considered as absolutely lost, and the shareholders were
+aggravating matters by wanting to sell out at once.
+
+Savinien was just coming away from the mistress's room.  He wanted to see
+the downfall of the Prince, whom he had always hated, looking upon him as
+a usurper of his own rights upon the fortune of the Desvarennes.
+He began lamenting to his aunt, when she turned upon him with unusual
+harshness, and he felt bound as he said, laughing, to leave the "funereal
+mansion."
+
+Cayrol, as much interested in the affairs of the Prince as if they were
+his own, went backward and forward between the Rue Saint-Dominique and
+the Rue Taitbout, pale and troubled, but without losing his head.  He had
+already saved the European Credit Company by separating it six weeks
+before from the Universal Credit Company, notwithstanding Madame
+Desvarennes's supplications to keep them together, in the hope that the
+one would save the other.  But Cayrol, practical, clear, and implacable,
+had refused, for the first time, to obey Madame Desvarennes.  He acted
+with the resolution of a captain of a vessel, who throws overboard a
+portion of the cargo to save the ship, the crew, and the rest of the
+merchandise.  He did well, and the European Credit was safe.  The shares
+had fallen a little, but a favorable reaction was already showing itself.
+The name of Cayrol, and his presence at the head of affairs, had
+reassured the public, and the shareholders gathered round him, passing a
+vote of confidence.
+
+The banker, devoted to his task, next sought to save Panine, who was at
+that very moment robbing him of his honor and happiness in the house of
+the Avenue Maillot.
+
+Pierre, Cayrol, and Madame Desvarennes met in Marechal's private office.
+Pierre declared that it was imperative to take strong measures and to
+speak to the Prince.  It was the duty of the mistress to enlighten
+Panine, who was no doubt Herzog's dupe.
+
+Madame Desvarennes shook her head sadly.  She feared that Serge was not a
+dupe but an accomplice.  And what could she tell him?  Let him ruin
+himself!  He would not believe her.  She knew how he received her advice
+and bore her remonstrances.
+
+An explanation between her and Serge was impossible, and her interference
+would only hurry him into the abyss.
+
+"Well, then, I will speak to him," said Pierre, resolutely.
+
+"No," said Madame Desvarennes, "not you!  Only one here can tell him
+efficaciously what he must hear, and that is Cayrol.  Let us above all
+things keep guard over our words and our behavior.  On no account must
+Micheline suspect anything."
+
+Thus, at the most solemn moments, when fortune and honor, perhaps, were
+compromised, the mother thought of her daughter's welfare and happiness.
+
+Cayrol went up to the Prince's rooms.  He had just come in, and was
+opening his letters, while having a cigarette in the smoking-room.  A
+door, covered by curtains, led to a back stair which opened into the
+courtyard.  Cayrol had gone up that way, feeling sure that by so doing he
+would not meet Micheline.
+
+On seeing Jeanne's husband, Serge rose quickly.  He feared that Cayrol
+had discovered everything, and instinctively stepped backward.  The
+banker's manner soon undeceived him.  He was serious, but not in a rage.
+He had evidently come on business.
+
+"Well, my dear Cayrol," said the Prince, gayly, "what good fortune has
+brought you here?"
+
+"If it is fortune, it is certainly not good fortune," answered the
+banker, gravely.  "I wish to have some talk with you, and I shall be
+grateful if you will listen patiently."
+
+"Oh! oh!" said Serge.  "How serious you are.  You have some heavy
+payments on hand, and want a little help, eh?  I will speak to Herzog."
+
+Cayrol looked at the Prince in amazement.  So he did not suspect
+anything?  Such carelessness and negligence frightened him.  The banker
+resolved to proceed clearly, and without beating about the bush; to do
+away with such blind confidence a thunderbolt was necessary.
+
+"I have not come about my business, but yours," returned Cayrol.  "The
+Universal Credit Company is on the eve of disaster; there is still time
+for you to withdraw safely and soundly from the sinking wreck.  I bring
+you the means."
+
+Serge laughed.
+
+"Thank you, Cayrol; you are very kind, my friend.  I know your intentions
+are good, but I don't believe a word you are saying.  You have come from
+Madame Desvarennes.  You are both agreed that I shall give up the
+Universal Credit, but I will not yield to any pressure.  I know what I am
+doing.  Be easy."
+
+And quietly lighting another cigarette, he gracefully puffed the smoke
+toward the ceiling.  Cayrol did not trouble to argue, but took a
+newspaper from his pocket and handed it to Panine, simply saying, "Read!"
+
+It was an article in a reliable financial paper prophesying the failure
+of the Universal Credit Company, and basing its statements on irrefutable
+calculations.  Serge took the paper and looked over it.  He turned pale
+and crushed it in his hand.
+
+"What infamy!"  cried he.  "I know our adversaries are enraged.  Yes,
+they know that our new company is destined to crush them in the future,
+and they are doing all they can to run us aground.  Jealousy!  Envy!
+There is no other foundation for these rumors, and they are unworthy a
+serious man's attention."
+
+"There is neither envy nor jealousy.  All is true," said Cayrol.  "You
+will admit that I am your sincere friend?  Well, I swear to you that the
+situation is terrible, and you must resign your directorship of the
+Universal Credit without loss of time.  There's not a moment to lose.
+Sit down and write your resignation."
+
+"Do you think I am a child to be led by the nose like that?"  asked the
+Prince, in a passion.  "If you are sincere, Cayrol, as I wish to believe,
+I also think you are a fool.  You don't understand!  As to drawing out of
+the company, never!  I have a lot of money invested in it."
+
+"Well, lose your money, Madame Desvarennes will pay you back.  At least
+you can save your name."
+
+"Ah, I see you are conniving with her!"  exclaimed the Prince, loudly.
+"Don't tell me another word, I don't believe you.  I shall go straight to
+the office, and I will speak to Herzog.  We will take measures to
+prosecute the papers for libel if they dare to publish these untruths."
+
+Cayrol saw that nothing would convince Panine.  He hoped that an
+interview with Herzog would enlighten him.  He left the matter to chance,
+as reasoning was of no avail, and went down to the mistress.
+
+Serge drove to the Universal Credit Company.  It was the first day in the
+new offices.  Herzog had furnished them splendidly, thinking that this
+would give the shareholders a high opinion of the undertaking.  How could
+they have any doubts when they saw such splendid furniture and large
+offices?  How could they refuse to place their money in the hands of
+speculators that could cover their floors with such soft carpets?  The
+porters, with their dark blue and red cloth liveries, and buttons with
+the company's monogram on them, answered inquiries with haughty
+condescension.  Everything foretold success.  It was in the air.  You
+could hear the cashier shovelling heaps of gold.  The people who had
+placed the Universal Credit Company on such a footing were either very
+powerful or very impudent.
+
+Serge walked in, as he would have done at home, with his hat on, amid a
+number of small shareholders, who had come full of anxiety after reading
+the accounts in the newspapers, and who felt full of confidence after
+seeing the splendor of the place.  Panine reached Herzog's office, but
+when about to open the door, loud voices struck his ear.  The financier
+was arguing with a director, and Panine listened.
+
+"The speculation is safe and sure," Herzog was saying.  "The shares are
+low, I know, because I have ceased to keep them up.  I have given orders
+in London, Vienna, and Berlin, and we are buying up all shares that are
+offered in the market.  I shall then run the shares up again, and we
+shall realize an enormous sum.  It is most simple."
+
+"But it is shady," said the other voice.
+
+"Why?  I defend myself as I am attacked.  The great banks seek to
+deteriorate my stock.  I buy in, and take it out of my adversaries.
+Is it not just and lawful?"
+
+Panine breathed freely and felt reassured.  The depreciation was caused
+by Herzog; he had just said so.  There was nothing to fear then.  It was
+just a trick of Herzog's, and the company would come out brighter than
+ever.
+
+Serge went in.
+
+"Oh! here's Prince Panine," said Herzog.  "Ask him what he thinks of the
+matter.  I defer to his judgment."
+
+"I don't want to know anything," said Serge.  "I have full confidence in
+you, my dear manager, and our business will prosper in your hands, I am
+sure.  Besides, I know the manoeuvres of our opponents, and I think every
+financial means justifiable to answer them."
+
+"Ah!  What did I say to you a few minutes ago?"  cried Herzog, addressing
+his questioner in a tone of triumph.  "Let me act and you will see.
+Besides, I don't want to keep you against your will," he added, harshly.
+"You are at liberty to withdraw from us if you like."
+
+The other protested that what he had said was for the best interests of
+all concerned.  He did not dream of leaving the company; on the contrary,
+they might rely on him.  He appreciated the experience and ability of
+Herzog too well to separate his fortune from his friend's.  And, shaking
+hands with the financier, he took his leave.
+
+"Come!  What is all this clamor in the newspapers?"  asked Serge, when he
+found himself alone with Herzog.  "Do you know that the articles
+published are very perfidious?"
+
+"All the more perfidious because they are founded on truth," said the
+financier, coldly.
+
+"What do you mean?"  cried Serge, in alarm.
+
+"The truth.  Do you think I am to tell you lies as I did to that idiot
+who has just gone out?  The Universal Credit has at this moment a screw
+loose.  But patience!  I have an idea, and in a fortnight the shares will
+have doubled in value.  I have a splendid scheme in hand which will kill
+the gas companies.  It is a plan for lighting by magnesium.  Its effect
+will be startling.  I shall publish sensational articles describing the
+invention in the London and Brussels papers.  Gas shares will fall very
+low.  I shall buy up all I can, and when I am master of the situation, I
+shall announce that the threatened gas companies are buying up the
+invention.  Shares will rise again, and I shall realize a goodly sum,
+which will be for the benefit of the Universal Credit."
+
+"But for such a formidable speculation foreign agents will require
+security?"
+
+"I will offer it to them.  I have here ten million francs' worth of
+shares in the European Credit belonging to Cayrol.  We will give the
+cashier a joint receipt for them.  The speculation will last three days.
+It is safe, and when the result is achieved we will replace the shares,
+and take back the receipt."
+
+"But," asked Serge, "is this plan of taking the shares which don't belong
+to us legal?"
+
+"It is a transfer," said Herzog, with simplicity.  "Besides, don't forget
+that we have to do with Cayrol, that is to say with a partner."
+
+"Suppose we tell him of it," insisted the Prince.
+
+"No!  The deuce!  We should have to explain everything to him.  He knows
+what's what, and would find the idea too good, and want a share of the
+spoil.  No!  Sign that, and don't be alarmed.  The sheep will be back in
+the fold before the shepherd comes to count them."
+
+A dark presentiment crossed Serge's mind, and he was afraid.  At that
+moment, when his fate was being decided, he hesitated to go deeper into
+the rut where he had already been walking too long.  He stood silent and
+undecided.  Confused thoughts crowded his brain; his temples throbbed,
+and a buzzing noise sounded in his ears.  But the thought of giving up
+his liberty, and again subjecting himself to Madame Desvarennes's
+protection was like the lash of a whip, and he blushed for having
+hesitated.
+
+Herzog looked at him, and, smiling in a constrained way, said:
+
+"You, too, may give up the affair if you like.  If I share it with you it
+is because you are so closely allied to me.  I don't so very much care to
+cut the pear in two.  Don't think that I am begging of you to be my
+partner!  Do as you like."
+
+Serge caught hold of the paper and, having signed it, handed it to the
+financier.
+
+"All right," said Herzog.  "I shall leave to-night and be absent three
+days.  Watch the money market.  You will see the results of my
+calculations."
+
+And shaking hands with the Prince, Herzog went to the cashier to get the
+scrip and deposit the receipt.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+SIN GROWS BOLDER
+
+There was a party at Cayrol's.  In the drawing-rooms of the mansion in
+the Rue Taitbout everything was resplendent with lights, and there was
+quite a profusion of flowers.  Cayrol had thought of postponing the
+party, but was afraid of rousing anxieties, and like an actor who, though
+he has just lost his father, must play the following day, so Cayrol gave
+his party and showed a smiling face, so as to prevent harm to his
+business.
+
+Matters had taken a turn for the worse during the last three days.  The
+bold stroke, to carry out which Herzog had gone to London so as to be
+more secret, had been got wind of.  The fall of the shares had not taken
+place.  Working with considerable sums of money, the loss on the
+difference was as great as the gains would have been.  The shares
+belonging to the European Credit Company had defrayed the cost of the
+game.  It was a disaster.  Cayrol, in his anxiety, had applied for the
+scrip and had only found the receipt given to the cashier.  Although the
+transaction was most irregular, Cayrol had not said anything; but,
+utterly cast down, had gone to Madame Desvarennes to tell her of the
+fact.
+
+The Prince was in bed, pretending to be ill.  His wife, happily ignorant
+of all that was going on, rejoiced secretly at his indisposition because
+she was allowed to nurse him and have him all to herself.  Panine,
+alarmed at the check they had experienced, was expecting Herzog with
+feverish impatience, and to keep out of sight had chosen the privacy of
+his own room.
+
+Still, Cayrol had been allowed to see him, and with great circumspection
+told him that his non-appearance at the same time that Herzog was absent
+was most fatal for the Universal Credit Company.  It was absolutely
+necessary that he should be seen in public.  He must come to his party,
+and appear with a calm face.  Serge promised to come, and had imposed on
+Micheline the heavy task of accompanying him to Jeanne's.  It was the
+first time since her return from Nice that she had entered the house of
+her husband's mistress.
+
+The concert was over, and a crowd of guests were coming from the large
+drawing-room to the boudoir and little drawing-room.
+
+"The symphony is over.  Ouf!" said Savinien, yawning.
+
+"You don't like music?"  asked Marechal, with a laugh.
+
+"Yes, military music.  But two hours of Schumann and Mendelssohn at high
+pressure is too much for one man.  But I say, Marechal, what do you think
+of Mademoiselle Herzog's being at Cayrol's soiree.  It is a little too
+strong."
+
+"How so?"
+
+"Why, the father has bolted, and the daughter is preparing a dance.  Each
+has a different way of using their feet."
+
+"Very pretty, Monsieur Desvarennes, but I advise you to keep your flashes
+of wit to yourself," said Marechal, seriously.  "That may not suit
+everybody."
+
+"Oh, Marechal, you, too, making a fuss!"
+
+And turning on his heel, he went to the refreshment table.
+
+Prince and Princess Panine were just coming in.  Micheline was smiling,
+and Serge was pale, though calm.  Cayrol and Jeanne came toward them.
+Everybody turned to look at them.  Jeanne, without embarrassment, shook
+hands with her friend.  Cayrol bowed respectfully to Micheline.
+
+"Princess," he said, "will you honor me by taking my arm?  You are just
+in time, they are going to begin dancing."
+
+"Not myself, though, thank you," replied Micheline, with a sad smile, "I
+am still very weak, but I will look on."
+
+And on Cayrol's arm she entered the large drawing-room.  Serge followed
+with Jeanne.
+
+The festivities were at their height.  The orchestra was playing a waltz,
+and in a whirl of silk and gauze the young people seemed to be thoroughly
+enjoying themselves.
+
+Suzanne Herzog was sitting alone near a window, in a simple white dress,
+and without a single ornament.  Marechal had just approached her, and she
+had welcomed him with a smile.
+
+"Are you not dancing to-night, Mademoiselle?"  he asked.
+
+"I am waiting to be invited," she answered, sadly, "and, like sister
+Anne, I see nobody coming.  There are ugly reports abroad about my
+father's fortune, and the Argonauts are drawing off."
+
+"Will you give me a dance?"  said Marechal.  "I don't dance to
+perfection, never having practised much, but with a good will."
+
+"Thank you, Monsieur Marechal, I would rather talk.  I am not very
+cheerful to-night, and, believe me, I only came because Madame
+Desvarennes wished it.  I would rather have remained at home.  Business
+has gone wrong with my father by what I can hear, for I don't know what
+goes on at the office.  I feel more inclined to cry than to laugh.  Not
+that I regret the loss of money, you know; I don't care for it, but my
+father must be in despair."
+
+Marechal listened silently to Suzanne, not daring to tell her what he
+thought of Herzog, and respected the real ignorance or willing blindness
+of the young girl who did not doubt her father's loyalty.
+
+The Princess, leaning on Cayrol's arm, had just finished promenading
+round the rooms, when she perceived Suzanne and, leaving the banker, came
+and seated herself beside her.  Many of the guests looked at each other
+and whispered words which Micheline did not hear, and if she had heard
+would not have understood.  "It is heroic!"  some said.  Others answered,
+"It is the height of impudence."
+
+The Princess was talking with Suzanne and was looking at her husband who,
+leaning against a door, was following Jeanne with his eyes.
+
+At a sign from Cayrol, Marechal left the room.  The secretary joined
+Madame Desvarennes, who had come with Pierre and had remained in Cayrol's
+private office.  During this party matters of moment were to be
+discussed, and a consultation was about to take place between the
+interested parties.  On seeing Marechal enter, Madame only uttered one
+word:
+
+"Cayrol?"
+
+"Here he is," answered the secretary.
+
+Cayrol came in, hurriedly.
+
+"Well," he asked, with great anxiety, "have you any news?"
+
+"Pierre has just come from London," answered the mistress.  "What we
+feared is true.  Herzog, conjointly with my son-in-law, has made use of
+the ten millions belonging to the European Credit."
+
+"Do you think that Herzog has really bolted?"  inquired Marechal.
+
+"No!  he is too deep for that," replied Cayrol.  "He will return.  He
+knows that in compromising the Prince it is as if he had compromised the
+firm of Desvarennes, therefore he is quite easy on the matter."
+
+"Can the one be saved without the other?"  asked the mistress.
+
+"It is impossible.  Herzog has so firmly bound up his interests with
+those of the Prince that it will be necessary to extricate both or let
+both perish together."
+
+"Well, we must save Herzog into the bargain, then!"  said Madame
+Desvarennes, coldly.  "But by what means?"
+
+"These," answered Cayrol.  "The shares taken away by Herzog, under the
+security of the Prince's signature, were deposited by the shareholders.
+When the Universal Credit removed to its new offices, these shares were
+taken away by mistake.  It will suffice to replace the scrip.  I will
+give back the receipt to the Prince and all trace of this deplorable
+affair will be wiped out."
+
+"But the numbers of the shares will not be the same," said Madame
+Desvarennes, accustomed to minute regularity in all operations.
+
+"We can explain the change by feigning a sale when they were high, and
+buying them up when low.  We will show a profit, and the shareholders
+will not quarrel.  Besides, I reserve the right of divulging Herzog's
+fraud without implicating Panine, if the shareholders insist.  Trust me,
+I will catch Herzog another time.  It is my stupid confidence in that man
+which has been partly the cause of this disaster.  I will make your
+business mine and force him to shell out.  I shall leave for London to-
+night, by the 1.50 train.  Promptness of action in such a case is the
+first step toward success."
+
+"Thank you, Cayrol," said the mistress.  "Have my daughter and the Prince
+arrived?"
+
+"Yes, Serge is calm; he has more power over himself than I could have
+believed."
+
+"What does it matter to him what is going on?  Is it he who will feel the
+blow?  No.  He knows that I shall go on working to keep him in idleness
+and maintain him in luxury.  I may think myself lucky if he is reclaimed
+by this hard lesson, and does not again begin to rummage in other
+people's safes, for then I should be unable to save him."
+
+The mistress rose and, with flashing eyes, walked up and down the room.
+
+"Oh, the wretch!"  she said.  "If ever my daughter ceases to come between
+him and me!"
+
+A terrible gesture finished the sentence.
+
+Cayrol, Marechal, and Pierre looked at each other.  The same thought came
+to their minds, dark and fearful.  In a paroxysm of rage this fond
+mother, this energetic and passionate woman, would be capable of killing
+any one.
+
+"You remember what I told you one day," murmured Marechal, approaching
+Cayrol.
+
+"I would prefer the hatred of ten men to that of such a woman," answered
+Cayrol.
+
+"Cayrol!"  continued Madame Desvarennes, after a few moments of
+meditation, "the conduct of the business of which you spoke to us a
+little while ago depends solely on you, does it not?"
+
+"On me alone."
+
+"Do it at once, then, cost me what it may.  Has it been noised abroad?"
+
+"No one has the slightest suspicion.  I have not mentioned it to a living
+soul," said the banker--"except to my wife," added he with a frankness
+which drew a smile from Pierre.  "But my wife and I are one."
+
+"What did she say?"  asked Madame Desvarenes, looking straight at Cayrol.
+
+"If I had been the person concerned," he said, "she could not possibly
+have been more affected.  She loves you so much, Madame, you and those
+belonging to you.  She besought me to do all in my power to get the
+Prince out of this scrape.  She had tears in her eyes: And, truly, if I
+did not feel bound to serve you from gratitude I would do it for her sake
+and to give her pleasure.  I was touched, I can assure you.  Really, she
+has a heart!"
+
+Marechal exchanged a look with Madame Desvarennes, who advanced toward
+the banker, and shook him by the hand, saying:
+
+"Cayrol, you are truly a good man!"
+
+"I know it," said Cayrol, smiling to hide his emotion, "and you may rely
+upon me."
+
+Micheline appeared on the threshold of the room.  Through the half-open
+door the dancers could be seen passing to and fro, and the sound of music
+floated in the air.
+
+"What has become of you, mamma?  I hear that you have been here for more
+than an hour."
+
+"I was talking on business matters with these gentlemen," answered Madame
+Desvarennes, smoothing from her brow the traces of her cares by an effort
+of will.  "But you, dear, how do you feel?  Are you not tired?"
+
+"Not more so than usual," replied Micheline, looking round to follow the
+movements of her husband, who was trying to reach Jeanne.
+
+"Why did you come to this party?  It was unwise."
+
+"Serge wished me to come, and I did not care to let him come without me."
+
+"Eh! dear me!" exclaimed Madame Desvarennes.  "Let him do what he likes.
+Men are savages.  When you are ill it won't hurt him."
+
+"I am not ill, and I won't be," resumed Micheline, warmly.  "We are going
+away now."
+
+She motioned to Serge with her fan.  Panine came to her.
+
+"You will take me home, won't you, Serge?"
+
+"Certainly, dear one," answered Serge.
+
+Jeanne, who was listening at a distance, raised her hand to her forehead
+as a sign that she wanted him.  A feeling of surprise came over the
+Prince, and he did not understand what she meant.  Micheline had seen the
+sign.  A deadly pallor spread over her features, and a cold perspiration
+broke out on her forehead.  She felt so ill that she could have cried
+out.  It was the first time she had seen Serge and Jeanne together since
+the dreadful discovery at Nice.  She had avoided witnessing their
+meeting, feeling uncertain of herself, and fearing to lose her self-
+control.  But seeing the two lovers before her, devouring each other with
+their looks, and making signs to each other, made her feel most terribly
+jealous and angry.
+
+Serge had decided to obey the imperious signs which Jeanne made to him,
+and turning toward his wife, said:
+
+"I remember now, my dear, that before going home I must call at the club.
+I promised, and cannot put it off.  Excuse my not going with you, and ask
+your mother to accompany you."
+
+"Very well," said Micheline, in a trembling voice.  "I will ask her.  You
+are not going just yet?"
+
+"In a moment."
+
+"I, too, shall leave in a moment."
+
+The young wife did not want to lose one detail of the horrible comedy
+being played under her very eyes.  She remained to learn, unawares, the
+reason for which Jeanne kept her husband.
+
+Not thinking that he was watched, Serge had gone across to Jeanne, and
+affecting a smile, inquired:
+
+"What is the matter?"
+
+"Serious news."  And she explained that she must speak to her lover that
+evening.
+
+"Where?"  Serge asked, with astonishment.
+
+"Here," answered Jeanne.
+
+"But your husband?"  the Prince said.
+
+"Is leaving in an hour.  Our guests will not remain late.  Go to the
+garden, and wait in the pavilion.  The door of the back stairs leading to
+my dressing-room will be open.  When everybody has gone, come up."
+
+"Take care; we are observed," said Serge, uneasily.
+
+And they began to laugh with affectation and talked aloud about frivolous
+things, as if nothing serious were occupying their thoughts.  Cayrol had
+come back again.  He went up to Madame Desvarennes, who was talking with
+her daughter, and, full of business, thoughtlessly said:
+
+"I will telegraph you as soon as I reach London."
+
+"Are you going away?"  inquired Micheline, a light dawning on her mind.
+
+"Yes," said Cayrol; "I have an important matter to settle."
+
+"And when do you start?"  continued Micheline, in such a changed voice
+that her mother was frightened.
+
+"In a moment," answered the banker.  "Allow me to leave you.  I have
+several orders to give."
+
+And leaving the boudoir, he regained the little drawing-room.
+
+Micheline, with clinched hands and fixed gaze, was saying to herself:
+
+"She will be alone to-night, and has asked him to come to her.  He told
+me an untruth about his having to go to the club.  He is going to see
+her!"
+
+And passing her hand across her brow, as if to drive away an unpleasant
+thought, the young wife remained silent, dismayed and crushed.
+
+"Micheline, what is the matter with you?"  asked Madame Desvarennes,
+seizing her daughter's hand, which was icy cold.
+
+"Nothing," stammered Micheline.
+
+"You are ill, I see.  Come, let us go home.  Come and kiss Jeanne--"
+
+"I!"  cried Micheline, with horror, instinctively recoiling as if
+dreading some impure contact.
+
+Madame Desvarennes became suddenly cold and calm.  She foresaw a terrible
+revelation, and observing her daughter narrowly, said:
+
+"Why do you cry out when I speak of your kissing Jeanne?  Whatever is the
+matter?"
+
+Micheline grasped her mother's arm, and pointed to Serge and Jeanne, who
+were in the little drawing-room, laughing and talking, surrounded by a
+group of people, yet alone.
+
+"Look at them!"  she cried.
+
+"What do you mean?"  exclaimed the mother in agony.  She read the truth
+in her daughter's eyes.
+
+"You know--"she began.
+
+"That he is her lover," cried Micheline, interrupting her.  "Don't you
+see that I am dying through it?"  she added, sobbing bitterly and falling
+into her mother's arms.
+
+The mistress carried her as if she had been a child into Cayrol's private
+office, and shut the door.  Then, kneeling beside the couch on which
+Micheline was stretched, she gave vent to her grief.  She begged her
+daughter to speak to her, and warmed her hands with kisses; then, seeing
+her still cold and motionless, she was frightened, and wanted to call for
+help.
+
+"No; be quiet!"  murmured Micheline, recovering.  "Let no one know.
+I ought to have held my peace; but I have suffered so much I could not
+help myself.
+
+"My life is blasted, you see.  Take me away; save me from this infamy!
+Jeanne, my sister, and Serge.  Oh!  make me forget it!  For pity's sake,
+mamma, you who are so strong, you who have always done what you wished,
+take from my heart all the pain that is there!"
+
+Madame Desvarennes, overcome by such a load of grief, lost command of
+herself, and, quite brokenhearted, began to cry and moan.
+
+"O God!  Micheline, my poor child! you were suffering so and did not tell
+me.  Oh!  I knew you no longer trusted your old mother.  And I stupidly
+did not guess it!  I said to myself, at least she knows nothing about it,
+and sacrificed everything to keep the knowledge of their wrong-doing from
+you.  Don't cry any more, darling, you will break my heart.  I, who would
+have given up everything in the world to see you happy!  Oh, I have loved
+you too much!  How I am punished!"
+
+"It is I who am punished," said Micheline, sobbing, "for not obeying you.
+Ah! children ought always to heed their mother.  She divines the danger.
+Is it not too horrible, mamma?  I, who have sacrificed everything for
+him, to think that he does not love me, and never will love me!  What
+will my life be without confidence, hope, or affection?  I am too
+unhappy.  It would be better to die!"
+
+"Die!  you!"  cried her mother, whose eyes, wet with tears, dried in a
+moment, as if by an inward fire.  "Die! Come, don't talk such nonsense!
+Because a man treats you with scorn and betrays you?  Are men worth dying
+for?  No, you shall live, my darling, with your old mother.  You shall
+have a deed of separation from your husband."
+
+"And he will be free," exclaimed Micheline, angrily.  "He will go on
+loving her!  Oh!  I cannot bear that thought.  Do you know, what I am
+going to tell you seems awful.  I love him so much, that I would rather
+see him dead than unfaithful."
+
+Madame Desvarennes was struck, and remained silent.  Serge dead!  That
+idea had already occurred to her as a dream of deliverance.  It came upon
+her peremptorily, violently, irresistibly.  She repelled it with an
+effort.
+
+"I can never think of him but as vile and odious," continued Micheline.
+"Every day his sin will seem more dastardly and his hypocrisy more base.
+There, a little while ago, he was smiling; and do you know why?  Because
+Cayrol is going away, and during his absence Serge will return here
+tonight."
+
+"Who told you?"
+
+"I read it in his joyful looks.  I love him.  He cannot hide anything
+from me.  A traitor to me, and a traitor toward his friend, that is the
+man whom--I am ashamed to own it--I love!"
+
+"Compose yourself!  Someone is coming," said Madame Desvarennes, and at
+the same time the door opened and Jeanne appeared, followed by Marechal,
+who was anxious at their disappearance.
+
+"Is Micheline ill?"  inquired Madame Cayrol, coming forward.
+
+"No; it is nothing.  Just a little fatigue," said Madame Desvarennes.
+"Marechal, give my daughter your arm, and take her to her carriage.  I
+shall be down in a minute."
+
+And holding Jeanne by the hand to prevent her following Micheline, she
+added:
+
+"Stay; I have something to say to you."
+
+Jeanne looked surprised.  Madame Desvarennes was silent for a moment.
+She was thinking about Serge coming there that night.  She had only to
+say one word to Cayrol to prevent his going away.  The life of this
+wretch was entirely in her hands then!  But Jeanne!  Was she going to
+ruin her?  Had she the right thus to destroy one who had struggled and
+had defended herself?  Would it be just?  Jeanne had been led on against
+her will.  She must question her.  If the poor girl were suffering, if
+she repented, she must spare her.
+
+Madame Desvarennes, having thus made up her mind, turned toward Jeanne
+who was waiting.
+
+"It is a long time since I have seen you, my dear, and I find you happy
+and smiling.  It is the first time since your marriage that you have
+seemed so happy."
+
+Jeanne looked at the mistress without answering.  In these words she
+detected irony.
+
+"You have found peace," continued Madame Desvarennes, looking steadfastly
+at Jeanne with her piercing eyes.  "You see, my dear, when you have a
+clear conscience--for you have nothing to reproach yourself with?"
+
+Jeanne saw in this sentence a question and not an affirmation.  She
+answered, boldly:
+
+"Nothing!"
+
+"You know that I love you, and would be most lenient," continued Madame
+Desvarennes, sweetly, "and that you might safely confide in me!"
+
+"I have nothing to fear, having nothing to tell," said Jeanne.
+
+"Nothing?"  repeated the mistress, with emphasis.
+
+"Nothing," affirmed Jeanne.
+
+Madame Desvarennes once more looked at her adopted daughter as if she
+would read her very soul.  She found her quite calm.
+
+"Very well, then!"  said she, hastily walking toward the door.
+
+"Are you going already?"  asked Jeanne, offering her brow to Madame
+Desvarennes's lips.
+
+"Yes, good-by!"  said the latter, with an icy kiss.
+
+Jeanne, without again turning round, went into the drawing-room.  At the
+same moment, Cayrol, in a travelling-coat, entered the office, followed
+by Pierre.
+
+"Here I am, quite ready," said the banker to Madame Desvarennes.  "Have
+you any new suggestion to make to me, or anything else to say?"
+
+"Yes," replied Madame Desvarennes, in a stern voice which made Cayrol
+start.
+
+"Then make haste.  I have only a moment to spare, and you know the train
+waits for no one."
+
+"You will not go!"
+
+Cayrol, in amazement, answered:
+
+"Do you mean it?  Your interests are at stake yonder."
+
+"Your honor is in danger here," cried the mistress, vehemently.
+
+"My honor!"  repeated Cayrol, starting back.  "Madame, do you know what
+you are saying?"
+
+"Ay!"  answered Madame Desvarennes.  "And do you remember what I promised
+you?  I undertook to warn you, myself, if ever the day came when you
+would be threatened."
+
+"Well?"  questioned Cayrol, turning quite livid.
+
+"Well!  I keep my promise.  If you wish to know who your rival is, come
+home to-night."
+
+Some inaudible words rattled in Cayrol's throat.
+
+"A rival!  in my house!  Can Jeanne be guilty?  Do you know, if it is
+true I will kill them both!"
+
+"Deal with them as your conscience dictates," said Madame Desvarennes.
+"I have acted according to mine."
+
+Pierre, hitherto dumb with horror at the scene of which he had been a
+witness, shook off his stupor, and going up to Madame Desvarennes, said:
+
+"Madame, do you know that what you have just done is frightful!"
+
+"How?  That man will be acting within his rights the same as I am.  They
+are seeking to take away his wife, and they are killing my daughter, and
+dishonoring me!  We are defending ourselves!  Woe to those who are guilty
+of the crime!"
+
+Cayrol had fallen, as if thunderstruck, on a chair, with haggard eyes;
+his voice was gone, and he looked the image of despair.  Madame
+Desvarennes's words came back to him like the refrain of a hated song.
+To himself he kept repeating, without being able to chase away the one
+haunting thought: "Her lover, to-night, at your house!"  He felt as if he
+were going mad.  He was afraid he should not have time to wreak his
+vengeance.  He made a terrible effort, and, moaning with grief, he arose.
+
+"Take care!"  said Pierre.  "Here's your wife."
+
+Cayrol eyed Jeanne, who was approaching.  Burning tears came to his eyes.
+He murmured:
+
+"She, with a look so pure, and a face so calm!  Is it possible?"
+
+He nodded a farewell to Pierre and Madame Desvarennes, who were leaving,
+and recovering himself, advanced to meet Jeanne.
+
+"Are you off?"  she inquired.  "You know you have no time to lose!"
+
+Cayrol shuddered.  She seemed anxious to get rid of him.
+
+"I have still a few minutes to spend with you," he said, with emotion.
+"You see, Jeanne, I am sad at going away alone.  It is the first time I
+have left you.  In a moment our guests will be gone--I beg of you, come
+with me!"
+
+Jeanne smiled.  "But you see, dear, I am in evening dress."
+
+"The night of our marriage I brought you away from Cernay like that.
+Wrap yourself up in your furs, and come!  Give me this proof of
+affection.  I deserve it.  I am not a bad man--and I love you so!"
+
+Jeanne frowned.  This pressing vexed her.
+
+"This is childish," she said.  "You will return the day after tomorrow,
+and I am tired.  Have some pity for me."
+
+"You refuse?"  asked Cayrol, becoming gloomy and serious.
+
+Jeanne touched his face slightly with her white hand.
+
+"Come!  Don't leave me in a temper!  You won't miss me much, you will
+sleep all the way.  Good-by!"
+
+Cayrol kissed her; in a choking voice, he said:
+
+"Good-by!"
+
+And he left her.
+
+Jeanne's face brightened, as she stood listening for a moment and heard
+the carriage which contained her husband rolling away.  Uttering a sigh
+of relief, she murmured:
+
+"At last!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+THE CRISIS
+
+Jeanne had just taken off her ball-dress to put on a dressing-gown of
+Oriental cloth richly embroidered with silk flowers.  Leaning her elbows
+on the mantelpiece, and breathing heavily, she was waiting.  Her maid
+came in, bringing a second lamp.  The additional light displayed the rich
+warm hangings of ruby plush embroidered in dull gold.  The bed seemed one
+mass of lace.
+
+"Has everybody gone?"  asked Jeanne, pretending to yawn.
+
+"Messieurs Le Brede and Du Tremblay, the last guests, are just putting on
+their overcoats," answered the maid.  "But Monsieur Pierre Delarue has
+come back, and is asking whether Madame will speak with him for a
+moment."
+
+"Monsieur Delarue?"  repeated Jeanne, with astonishment.
+
+"He says he has something important to say to Madame."
+
+"Where is he?" asked Jeanne.
+
+"There, in the gallery.  The lights were being put out in the drawing-
+room."
+
+"Well, show him in."
+
+The maid went out.  Jeanne, much puzzled, asked herself, what could have
+brought Pierre back?  It must certainly be something very important.  She
+had always felt somewhat awed in Pierre's presence.  At that moment the
+idea of being face to face with the young man was most distressing to
+her.
+
+A curtain was lifted and Pierre appeared.  He remained silent and
+confused at the entrance of the room, his courage had deserted him.
+
+"Well," said Jeanne, with assumed stiffness, "whatever is the matter, my
+friend?"
+
+"The matter is, my dear Jeanne," began Pierre, "that--"
+
+But the explanation did not seem so very easy to give, for he stopped and
+could not go on.
+
+"That?"  repeated Madame Cayrol.
+
+"I beg your pardon," resumed Pierre.  "I am greatly embarrassed.  In
+coming here I obeyed a sudden impulse.  I did not think of the manner in
+which I should tell you what I have to say, and I see that I shall have
+to run a great risk of offending you."
+
+Jeanne assumed a haughty air.
+
+"Well, but, my dear friend, if what you have to say is so difficult,
+don't say it."
+
+"Impossible!"  retorted Pierre.  "My silence would cause irreparable
+mischief.  In mercy, Jeanne, make my task easier!  Meet me half way!  You
+have projects for to-night which are known.  Danger threatens you.  Take
+care!"
+
+Jeanne shuddered.  But controlling herself, she answered, laughing
+nervously:
+
+"What rubbish are you talking about?  I am at home, surrounded by my
+servants, and I have nothing to fear.  I beg of you to believe me."
+
+"You deny it!"  exclaimed Pierre.  "I expected as much.  But you are only
+taking useless trouble.  Come, Jeanne, I am the friend of your childhood;
+you have no reason to fear aught from me.  I am only trying to be of use
+to you.  You must know that, by my coming here, I know all.  Jeanne,
+listen to me!"
+
+"Are you mad?"  interrupted the young woman, proudly, "or are you taking
+part in some absurd joke?"
+
+"I am in my right mind, unfortunately for you!"  said Pierre, roughly,
+seeing that Jeanne refused to believe him.  "And there is no joke in the
+matter.  Everything is true, serious and terrible!  Since you compel me
+to say things which may be unpalatable, they must out.  Prince Panine is
+in your house, or he soon will be.  Your husband, whom you think far
+away, is within call, perhaps, and will come and take you unawares.  Is
+not that a serious matter?"
+
+A frown overspread her face, and in an ungovernable rage she stepped
+forward, determined not to give in, and exclaimed:
+
+"Go away!  or I shall call for assistance!"
+
+"Don't call, it would look bad!"  resumed Pierre, calmly.  "On the
+contrary, let the servants get out of the way, and get the Prince to go
+if he be here, or if he has not yet arrived, prevent his coming in.  So
+long as I remain here you will dissimulate your fear and will not take
+any precautions.  I will leave you, then.  Adieu, Jeanne!  Believe that I
+wished to render you a service, and be sure that when I have crossed the
+threshold of this door I shall have forgotten everything that I may have
+said."
+
+Pierre bowed, and, lifting the heavy curtain which hid the door leading
+to the gallery, went out.
+
+He had hardly gone when the opposite door opened, and Serge entered the
+room.  The young woman rushed into his arms and whispered into his ear,
+with trembling lips:
+
+"Serge, we are lost!"
+
+"I was there," answered Panine.  "I heard all."
+
+"What shall we do?"  cried Jeanne, terrified.
+
+"Go away at once.  To remain here a moment longer is an imprudence."
+
+"And I, if I remain, what shall I say to Cayrol when he comes?"
+
+"Your husband!"  said Serge, bitterly.  "He loves you, he will forgive
+you."
+
+"I know; but then we two shall be separated for ever.  Is that what you
+desire?"
+
+"And what can I do?"  cried Serge, in despair.  "Everything around me is
+giving way!  Fortune, which has been my one aim in life, is escaping from
+me.  The family which I have scorned is forsaking me.  The friendship
+which I have betrayed overwhelms me.  There is nothing left to me."
+
+"And my love, my devotion?"  exclaimed Jeanne, passionately.  "Do you
+think that I will leave you?  We must go away.  I asked you long ago.
+You resisted; the moment has now come.  Be easy!  Madame Desvarennes will
+pay and save your name.  In exchange you will give her back her daughter.
+You don't care about her, because you love me.  I am your real wife; she
+who ought to share your life.  Well, I take back my rights.  I pay for
+them with my honor.  I break all ties which could hold me back.  I am
+yours, Serge!  Our sin and misfortune will bind us more closely than any
+laws could."
+
+"Think, that with me you will have to endure poverty, and, perhaps,
+misery," said the Prince, moved by the young woman's infatuation.
+
+"My love will make you forget everything!"
+
+"You will not feel regret or remorse?"
+
+"Never, so long as you love me."
+
+"Come, then," said the Prince, taking Jeanne in his arms.  "And if life
+is too hard--"
+
+"Well," added Jeanne, finishing the sentence with sparkling eyes, "we
+will seek refuge together in death!  Come!"
+
+Serge bolted the door, through which Pierre had passed, and which alone
+communicated with the other apartments.  Then, taking his mistress by the
+hand, he went with her into the dressing-room.  Jeanne threw a dark cloak
+round her shoulders, put a hat on her head, and without taking either
+money, jewels, lace, or, in fact, anything that she had received from
+Cayrol, they went down the little back stairs.
+
+It was very dark.  Jeanne did not take a light, as she did not care to
+attract attention, so they had to feel every step of the way as quietly
+as possible, striving not to make the least noise, holding their breath,
+and with beating hearts.  When they reached the bottom of the stairs,
+Jeanne stretched out her hand, and sought the handle of the door which
+opened into the courtyard.  She turned it, but the door would not open.
+She pushed, but it did not give way.  Jeanne uttered a low groan.  Serge
+shook it vigorously, but it would not open.
+
+"It has been fastened on the outside," he whispered.
+
+"Fastened?"  murmured Jeanne, seized with fear.  "Fastened, and by whom?"
+
+Serge did not answer.  The idea that Cayrol had done it came to his mind
+at once.  The husband lying in wait, had seen him enter, and to prevent
+his escaping from his vengeance had cut off all means of retreating.
+
+Silently, they went upstairs again, into the room through the dressing-
+room.  Jeanne took off her bonnet and cloak, and sank into an armchair.
+
+"I must get away!"  said Serge, with suppressed rage; and he walked
+toward the door of the gallery.
+
+"No!  don't open that," cried Jeanne, excitedly.
+
+And with a frightened look, she added:
+
+"What if he were behind the door?"
+
+At the same moment, as if Jeanne's voice had indeed evoked Cayrol, a
+heavy step was heard approaching along the gallery, a hand tried to open
+the bolted door.  Serge and Jeanne remained motionless, waiting.
+
+"Jeanne!"  called the voice of Cayrol from the outside, sounding
+mournfully in the silence, "Jeanne, open!"
+
+And with his fist he knocked imperatively on the woodwork.
+
+"I know you are there!  Open, I say!" he cried, with increasing rage.
+"If you don't open the door, I'll--"
+
+"Go!  I beseech you!"  whispered Jeanne, in Panine's ear.  "Go downstairs
+again, and break open the door.  You won't find any one there now."
+
+"Perhaps he has stationed some one there," answered Serge.  "Besides, I
+won't leave you here alone exposed to his violence."
+
+"You are not alone.  I can hear you talking!"  said Cayrol, beside
+himself.  "I shall break open this door!"
+
+The husband made a tremendous effort.  Under the pressure of his heavy
+weight the lock gave way.  With a bound he was in the middle of the room.
+Jeanne threw herself before him; she no longer trembled.  Cayrol took
+another step and fixed his glaring eyes on the man whom he sought,
+uttering a fearful oath.
+
+"Serge!"  cried he.  "I might have guessed it.  It is not only money of
+which you are robbing me, you villain!"
+
+Panine turned horribly pale, and advanced toward Cayrol, despite Jeanne,
+who was clinging to him.
+
+"Don't insult me; it is superfluous," said he.  "My life belongs to you;
+you can take it.  I shall be at your service whenever you please."
+
+Cayrol burst into a fearful laugh.
+
+"Ah! a duel!  Come!  Am I a gentleman?  I am a plebeian!  a rustic!  a
+cowherd!  you know that!  I have you now!  I am going to smash you!"
+
+He looked round the room as if seeking a weapon, and caught sight of the
+heavy fire-dogs.  He caught up one with a cry of triumph, and,
+brandishing it like a club, rushed at Serge.
+
+More rapid than he, Jeanne threw herself before her lover.  She stretched
+out her arms, and with a sharp voice, and the look of a she-wolf
+defending her cubs,
+
+"Keep behind me," said she to Serge; "he loves me and will not dare to
+strike!"
+
+Cayrol had stopped.  At these words he uttered a loud cry: "wretched
+woman!  You first, then!"
+
+Raising his weapon, he was about to strike, when his eyes met Jeanne's.
+The young woman was smiling, happy to die for her lover.  Her pale face
+beamed from out her black hair with weird beauty.  Cayrol trembled.  That
+look which he had loved, would he never see it again?  That rosy mouth,
+whose smile he cherished, would it be hushed in death?  A thousand
+thoughts of happy days came to his mind.  His arm fell.  A bitter flood
+rushed from his heart to his eyes; the iron dropped heavily from his hand
+on to the floor, and the poor man, overcome, sobbing, and ashamed of his
+weakness, fell senseless on a couch.
+
+Jeanne did not utter a word.  By a sign she showed Serge the door, which
+was open, and with a swollen heart she leaned on the mantelpiece, waiting
+for the unfortunate man, from whom she had received such a deep and sad
+proof of love, to come back to life.
+
+Serge had disappeared.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+"WHEN ROGUES FALL OUT"
+
+The night seemed long to Madame Desvarennes.  Agitated and feverish, she
+listened through the silence, expecting every moment to hear some fearful
+news.  In fancy she saw Cayrol entering his wife's room like a madman,
+unawares.  She seemed to hear a cry of rage, answered by a sigh of
+terror; then a double shot resounded, the room filled with smoke, and,
+struck down in their guilty love, Serge and Jeanne rolled in death,
+interlaced in each other's arms, like Paolo and Francesca de Rimini,
+those sad lovers of whom Dante tells us.
+
+Hour after hour passed; not a sound disturbed the mansion.  The Prince
+had not come in.  Madame Desvarennes, unable to lie in bed, arose, and
+now and again, to pass the time, stole on tiptoe to her daughter's room.
+Micheline, thoroughly exhausted with fatigue and emotion, had fallen
+asleep on her pillow, which was wet with tears.
+
+Bending over her, by the light of the lamp, the mistress gazed at
+Micheline's pale face, and a sigh rose to her lips.
+
+"She is still young," she thought; "she may begin life afresh.  The
+remembrance of these sad days will be wiped out, and I shall see her
+revive and smile again.  That wretch was nearly the death of her."
+
+And the image of Serge and Jeanne stretched beside each other in the room
+full of smoke came before her eyes again.  She shook her head to chase
+the importunate vision away, and noiselessly regained her own apartment.
+
+The day dawned pale and bleak.  Madame Desvarennes opened her window and
+cooled her burning brow in the fresh morning air.  The birds were awake,
+and were singing on the trees in the garden.
+
+Little by little, the distant sound of wheels rolling by was heard.  The
+city was awakening from its sleep.
+
+Madame Desvarennes rang and asked for Marechal.  The secretary appeared
+instantly.  He, too, had shared the anxieties and fears of the mistress,
+and had risen early.  Madame Desvarennes greeted him with a grateful
+smile.  She felt that she was really loved by this good fellow, who
+understood her so thoroughly.  She begged him to go to Cayrol's, and gain
+some information, without giving him further details, and she waited,
+walking up and down the room to calm the fever of her mind.
+
+On leaving the house in the Rue Taitbout, Serge felt bewildered, not
+daring to go home, and unable to decide on any plan; yet feeling that it
+was necessary to fix on something without delay, he reached the club.
+The walk did him good, and restored his physical equilibrium.  He was
+thankful to be alive after such a narrow escape.  He went upstairs with a
+comparatively light step, and tossed his overcoat to a very sleepy
+footman who had risen to receive him.  He went into the card-room.
+Baccarat was just finishing.  It was three o'clock in the morning.  The
+appearance of the Prince lent the game a little fresh animation.  Serge
+plunged into it as if it were a battle.  Luck was on his side.  In a
+short time he cleared the bank: a thousand louis.  One by one the players
+retired.  Panine, left alone, threw himself on a couch and slept for a
+few hours, but it was not a refreshing sleep.  On the contrary, it made
+him feel more tired.
+
+The day servants disturbed him when they came in to sweep the rooms and
+open the windows.  He went into the lavatory, and there bathed his face.
+When his ablutions were over he wrote a note to Jeanne, saying that he
+had reflected, and could not possibly let her go away with him.  He
+implored her to do all in her power to forget him.  He gave this letter
+to one of the messengers, and told him to give it into the hands of
+Madame Cayrol's maid, and to none other.
+
+The care of a woman and the worry of another household seemed unbearable
+to him.  Besides, what could he do with Jeanne?  The presence of his
+mistress would prevent his being able to go back to Micheline.  And now
+he felt that his only hope of safety was in Micheline's love for him.
+
+But first of all he must go and see if Herzog had returned, and ascertain
+the real facts of the position in regard to the Universal Credit Company.
+
+Herzog occupied a little house on the Boulevard Haussmann, which he had
+hired furnished from some Americans.  The loud luxury of the Yankees had
+not frightened him.  On the contrary, he held that the gay colors of the
+furniture and the glitter of the gilded cornices were bound to have a
+fascination for prospective shareholders.  Suzanne had reserved a little
+corner for herself, modestly hung with muslin and furnished with simple
+taste, which was a great contrast to the loud appearance of the other
+part of the house.
+
+On arriving, Serge found a stableman washing a victoria.  Herzog had
+returned.  The Prince quietly went up the steps, and had himself
+announced.
+
+The financier was sitting in his study by the window, looking through the
+newspapers.  When Serge entered he rose.  The two men stood facing each
+other for a moment.  The Prince was the first to speak.
+
+"How is it that you have kept me without news during your absence?"
+asked he, harshly.
+
+"Because," replied Herzog, calmly, "the only news I had was not good
+news."
+
+"At least I should have known it."
+
+"Would the result of the operation have been different?"
+
+"You have led me like a child in this affair," Serge continued, becoming
+animated.  "I did not know where I was going.  You made me promises, how
+have you kept them?"
+
+"As I was able," quietly answered Herzog.  "Play has its chances.  One
+seeks Austerlitz and finds Waterloo."
+
+"But," cried the Prince, angrily, "the shares which you sold ought not to
+have gone out of your hands."
+
+"You believed that?"  retorted the financier, ironically.  "If they ought
+not to have gone out of my hands it was hardly worth while putting them
+into them."
+
+"In short," said Panine, eager to find some responsible party on whom he
+could pour out all the bitterness of his misfortune, "you took a mean
+advantage of me."
+
+"Good!  I expected you to say that!"  returned Herzog, smiling.  "If the
+business had succeeded, you would have accepted your share of the spoil
+without any scruples, and would have felt ready to crown me.  It has
+failed; you are trying to get out of the responsibility, and are on the
+point of treating me as if I were a swindler.  Still, the affair would
+not have been more honest in the first instance than in the second, but
+success embellishes everything."
+
+Serge looked hard at Herzog.
+
+"What is there to prove," replied he, "that this speculation, which
+brings ruin and loss to me, does not enrich you?"
+
+"Ungrateful fellow!"  observed the financier, ironically, "you suspect
+me!"
+
+"Of having robbed me!"  cried Serge, in a rage.  "Why not?"
+
+Herzog, for a moment, lost his temper and turned red in the face.  He
+seized Panine violently by the arm, and said:
+
+"Gently, Prince; whatever insults you heap upon me must be shared by you.
+You are my partner."
+
+"Scoundrel!"  yelled Panine, exasperated at being held by Herzog.
+
+"Personalities," said the financier, in a jesting tone.  "Then I take my
+leave!"
+
+And loosing his hold of the Prince, he went toward the door.
+
+Serge sprang after him, exclaiming:
+
+"You shall not leave this room until you have given me the means of
+rectifying this disaster."
+
+"Then let us talk sensibly, as boon companions," said Herzog.  "I know of
+a marvellous move by which we can get out of the difficulty.  Let us
+boldly call a general meeting.  I will explain the thing, and amaze
+everybody.  We shall get a vote of confidence for the past, with funds
+for the future.  We shall be as white as snow, and the game is played.
+Are you in with me?"
+
+"Enough," replied the Prince, intensely disgusted.  "It does not suit me
+to do a yet more shameful thing in order to get out of this trouble.  It
+is no use arguing further; we are lost."
+
+"Only the weak allow themselves to be lost!"  exclaimed the financier.
+"The strong defend themselves.  You may give in if you like; I won't.
+Three times have I been ruined and three times have I risen again.  My
+head is good!  I am down now.  I shall rise again, and when I am well
+off, and have a few millions to spare, I will settle old debts.
+Everybody will be astonished because they won't expect it, and I shall be
+more thought of than if I had paid up at the time."
+
+"And if you are not allowed to go free?"  asked Serge.  "What if they
+arrest you?"
+
+"I shall be in Aix-la-Chapelle to-night," said Herzog.  "From there I
+shall treat with the shareholders of the Universal Credit.  People judge
+things better at a distance.  Are you coming with me?"
+
+"No," replied Serge, in a low voice.
+
+"You are wrong.  Fortune is capricious, and in six months we may be
+richer than we ever have been.  But as you have decided, let me give you
+a piece of advice which will be worth the money you have lost.  Confess
+all to your wife; she can get you out of this difficulty."
+
+The financier held out a hand to Serge which he did not take.
+
+"Ah!  pride!"  murmured Herzog.  "After all it is your right--It is you
+who pay!"
+
+Without answering a word the Prince went out.
+
+At that same hour, Madame Desvarennes, tired by long waiting, was pacing
+up and down her little drawing-room.  A door opened and Marechal, the
+long-looked for messenger, appeared.  He had been to Cayrol's, but could
+not see him.  The banker, who had shut himself up in his private office
+where he had worked all night, had given orders that no one should
+interrupt him.  And as Madame Desvarennes seemed to have a question on
+her lips which she dared not utter, Marechal added that nothing unusual
+seemed to have happened at the house.
+
+But as the mistress was thanking her secretary, the great gate swung on
+its hinges, and a carriage rolled into the courtyard.  Marechal flew to
+the window, and uttered one word,
+
+"Cayrol!"
+
+Madame Desvarennes motioned to him to leave her, and the banker appeared
+on the threshold.
+
+At a glance the mistress saw the ravages which the terrible night he had
+passed through had caused.  Yesterday, the banker was rosy, firm, and
+upright as an oak, now he was bent, and withered like an old man.  His
+hair had become gray about the temples, as if scorched by his burning
+thoughts.  He was only the shadow of himself.
+
+Madame Desvarennes advanced toward him, and in one word asked a world of
+questions.
+
+"Well?"  she said.
+
+Cayrol, gloomy and fierce, raised his eyes to the mistress, and answered:
+
+"Nothing!"
+
+"Did he not come?"
+
+"Yes, he came.  But I had not the necessary energy to kill him.  I
+thought it was an easier matter to become a murderer.  And you thought so
+too, eh?"
+
+"Cayrol!"  cried Madame Desvarennes, shuddering, and troubled to find
+that she had been so easily understood by him whom she had armed on her
+behalf.
+
+"The opportunity was a rare one, though," continued Cayrol, getting
+excited.  "Fancy; I found them together under my own roof.  The law
+allowed me, if not the actual right to kill them, at least an excuse if
+I did so.  Well, at the decisive moment, when I ought to have struck the
+blow, my heart failed me.  He lives, and Jeanne loves him."
+
+There was a pause.
+
+"What are you going to do?"
+
+"Get rid of him in another way," answered Cayrol.  "I had only two ways
+of killing him.  One was to catch him in my own house, the other to call
+him out.  My will failed me in the one case; my want of skill would fail
+me in the other.  I will not fight Serge.  Not because I fear death, for
+my life is blighted, and I don't value it; but if I were dead, Jeanne
+would belong to him, and I could not bear the thought of that even in
+death.  I must separate them forever."
+
+"And how?"
+
+"By forcing him to disappear."
+
+"And if he refuse?"
+
+Cayrol shook his head menacingly, and exclaimed:
+
+"I defy him!  If he resist, I will bring him before the assizes!"
+
+"You?"  said Madame Desvarennes, going nearer to Cayrol.
+
+"Yes, I!"  answered the banker, with energy.
+
+"Wretched man!  And my daughter?"  cried the mistress.  "Think well what
+you are saying!  You would disgrace me and mine."
+
+"Am I not dishonored myself?"  asked Cayrol.  "Your son-in-law is a
+robber, who has defiled my home and robbed my safe."
+
+"An honest man does not seek to revenge himself after the manner you
+suggest," said the mistress, gravely.
+
+"An honest man defends himself as he can.  I am not a knight.  I am only
+a financier.  Money is my weapon.  The Prince has stolen from me.  I will
+have him sentenced as a thief."
+
+Madame Desvarennes frowned.
+
+"Make out your account.  I will pay it."
+
+"Will you also pay me for my lost happiness?"  cried the banker,
+exasperated.  "Should I not rather have chosen to be ruined than be
+betrayed as I am?  You can never repair the wrong he has done me.
+And then I am suffering so, I must have my revenge!"
+
+"Ah!  fool that you are," replied Madame Desvarennes.  "The guilty will
+not feel your blows, but the innocent.  When my daughter and I are in
+despair will you be less unhappy!  Oh!  Cayrol, take heed that you lose
+not in dignity what you gain in revenge.  The less one is respected by
+others the more one must respect one's self.  Contempt and silence
+elevate the victim, while rage and hatred make him descend to the level
+of those who have outraged him."
+
+"Let people judge me as they please.  I care only for myself!  I am a
+vulgar soul, and have a low mind--anything you like.  But the idea that
+that woman belongs to another drives me mad.  I ought to hate her, but,
+notwithstanding everything, I cannot live without her.  If she will come
+back to me I will forgive her.  It is ignoble!  I feel it, but it is too
+strong for me.  I adore her!"
+
+Before that blind love Madame Desvarennes shuddered.  She thought of
+Micheline who loved Serge as Cayrol loved Jeanne.
+
+"Suppose she chooses to go away with Serge," said the mistress to
+herself.  In a moment she saw the house abandoned, Micheline and Serge in
+foreign lands, and she alone in the midst of her overthrown happiness,
+dying of sadness and regrets.  She made a last effort to move Cayrol.
+
+"Come, must I appeal in vain?  Can you forget that I was a sure and
+devoted friend to you, and that you owe your fortune to me?  You are a
+good man and will not forget the past.  You have been outraged and have
+the right of seeking revenge, but think that in carrying it out you will
+hurt two women who have never done you any harm.  Be generous!  Be just!
+Spare us!"
+
+Cayrol remained silent; his face did not relax.  After a moment he said:
+
+"You see how low I have fallen, by not yielding at once to your
+supplications!  Friendship, gratitude, generosity, all the good feelings
+I had, have been consumed by this execrable love.  There is nothing left
+but love for her.  For her, I forget everything.  I degrade and debase
+myself.  And what is worse than all, is that I know all this and yet I
+cannot help myself."
+
+"Miserable man!"  murmured the mistress.
+
+"Oh!  most miserable," sobbed Cayrol, falling into an armchair.
+
+Madame Desvarennes approached him, and quietly placed her hand on his
+shoulder.
+
+"Cayrol, you are weeping?  Then, forgive."
+
+The banker arose and, with lowering brow, said:
+
+"No!  my resolution is irrevocable.  I wish to place a world between
+Jeanne and Serge.  If he has not gone away by tonight my complaint will
+be lodged in the courts of justice."
+
+Madame Desvarennes no longer persisted.  She saw that the husband's heart
+was permanently closed.
+
+"It is well.  I thank you for having warned me.  You might have taken
+action without doing so.  Good-by, Cayrol.  I leave your conscience to
+judge between you and me."
+
+The banker bowed, and murmured:
+
+"Good-by!"
+
+And with a heavy step, almost tottering, he went out.
+
+The sun had risen, and lit up the trees in the garden.  Nature seemed to
+be making holiday.  The flowers perfumed the air, and in the deep blue
+sky swallows were flying to and fro.  This earthly joy exasperated Madame
+Desvarennes.  She would have liked the world to be in mourning.  She
+closed the window hastily, and remained lost in her own reflections.
+
+So everything was over!  The great prosperity, the honor of the house,
+everything was foundering in a moment.  Even her daughter might escape
+from her, and follow the infamous husband whom she adored in spite of his
+faults--perhaps because of his very faults--and might drag on a weary
+existence in a strange land, which would terminate in death.
+
+For that sweet and delicate child could not live without material
+comforts and mental ease, and her husband was doomed to go on from bad to
+worse, and would drag her down with him!  The mistress pictured her
+daughter, that child whom she had brought up with the tenderest care,
+dying on a pallet, and the husband, odious to the last, refusing her
+admission to the room where Micheline was in agony.
+
+A fearful feeling of anger overcame her.  Her motherly love gained the
+mastery, and in the silence of the room she roared out these words:
+
+"That shall not be!"
+
+The opening of the door recalled her to her senses, and she rose.  It was
+Marechal, greatly agitated.  After Cayrol's arrival, not knowing what to
+do, he had gone to the Universal Credit Company, and there, to his
+astonishment, had found the offices closed.  He had heard from the
+porter, one of those superb personages dressed in blue and red cloth,
+who were so important in the eyes of the shareholders, that the evening
+before, owing to the complaint of a director, the police had entered the
+offices, and taken the books away, and that the official seal had been
+placed on the doors.  Marechal, much alarmed, had hastened back to Madame
+Desvarennes to apprise her of the fact.  It was evidently necessary to
+take immediate steps to meet this new complication.  Was this indeed the
+beginning of legal proceedings?  And if so how would the Prince come out
+of it?
+
+Madame Desvarennes listened to Marechal, without uttering a word.  Events
+were hurrying on even quicker than she had dreaded.  The fears of the
+interested shareholders outran even the hatred of Cayrol.  What would the
+judges call Herzog's underhand dealings?  Would it be embezzlement?
+Or forgery?  Would they come and arrest the Prince at her house?
+The house of Desvarennes, which had never received a visit from a
+sheriff's officer, was it to be disgraced now by the presence of the
+police?
+
+The mistress, in that fatal hour, became herself again.  The strong-
+minded woman of old reappeared.  Marechal was more alarmed at this sudden
+vigor than he had been at her late depression.  When he saw Madame
+Desvarennes going toward the door, he made an effort to detain her.
+
+"Where are you going, Madame?"  he inquired, with anxiety.
+
+The mistress gave him a look that terrified him, and answered:
+
+"I am going to square accounts with the Prince."
+
+And, passing through the door leading to the little staircase, Madame
+Desvarennes went up to her son-in-law's rooms.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+THE MOTHER'S REVENGE
+
+On leaving Herzog, Serge had turned his steps toward the Rue Saint-
+Dominique.  He had delayed the moment of going home as long as possible,
+but the streets were beginning to be crowded.  He might meet some people
+of his acquaintance.  He resolved to face what ever reception was
+awaiting him on the way, he was planning what course he should adopt to
+bring about a reconciliation with his redoubtable mother-in-law.  He was
+no longer proud, but felt quite broken down.  Only Madame Desvarennes
+could put him on his feet again; and, as cowardly in trouble as he had
+been insolent in prosperity, he accepted beforehand all that she might
+impose upon him; all, provided that she would cover him with her
+protection.
+
+He was frightened, not knowing how deep Herzog had led him in the mire.
+His moral sense had disappeared, but he had a vague instinct of the
+danger he had incurred.  The financier's last words came to his mind:
+"Confess all to your wife; she can get you out of this difficulty!"  He
+understood the meaning of them, and resolved to follow the advice.
+Micheline loved him.  In appealing to her heart, deeply wounded as it
+was, he would have in her an ally, and he had long known that Madame
+Desvarennes could not oppose her daughter in anything.
+
+He entered the house through the back garden gate, and regained his room
+without making the slightest noise.  He dreaded meeting Madame
+Desvarennes before seeing Micheline.  First he changed his attire; he had
+walked about Paris in evening clothes.  Looking in the glass he was
+surprised at the alteration in his features.  Was his beauty going too?
+What would become of him if he failed to please.  And, like an actor who
+is about to play an important part, he paid great attention to the making
+up of his face.  He wished once more to captivate his wife, as his safety
+depended on the impression he was about to make on her.  At last,
+satisfied with himself, he tried to look smiling, and went to his wife's
+room.
+
+Micheline was up.
+
+At the sight of Serge she could not suppress an exclamation of surprise.
+It was a long time since he had discontinued these familiar visits.  The
+presence of her beloved one in that room, which had seemed so empty when
+he was not there, made her feel happy, and she went to him with a smile,
+holding out her hand.  Serge drew her gently toward him and kissed her
+hair.
+
+"Up, already, dear child," said he, affectionately.
+
+"I have scarcely slept," answered Micheline.  "I was so anxious.  I sat
+up for you part of the night.  I had left you without saying good-night.
+It was the first time it had occurred, and I wanted to beg your pardon.
+But you came in very late."
+
+"Micheline, it is I who am ungrateful," interrupted Panine, making the
+young wife sit down beside him.  "It is I who must ask you to be
+indulgent."
+
+"Serge!  I beg of you!"  said the young wife, taking both his hands.
+"All is forgotten.  I would not reproach you, I love you so much!"
+
+Micheline's face beamed with joy, and tears filled her eyes.
+
+"You are weeping," said Panine.  "Ah!  I feel the weight of my wrongs
+toward you.  I see how deserving you are of respect and affection.
+I feel unworthy, and would kneel before you to say how I regret all the
+anxieties I have caused you, and that my only desire in the future will
+be to make you forget them."
+
+"Oh! speak on! speak on!"  cried Micheline, with delight.  "What
+happiness to hear you say such sweet words!  Open your heart to me!  You
+know I would die to please you.  If you have any anxieties or annoyances
+confide in me.  I can relieve them.  Who could resist me when you are in
+question?"
+
+"I have none, Micheline," answered Serge, with the constrained manner of
+a man who is feigning.  "Nothing but the regret of not having lived more
+for you."
+
+"Is the future not in store for us?"  said the young wife, looking
+lovingly at him.
+
+The Prince shook his head, saying:
+
+"Who can answer for the future?"
+
+Micheline came closer to her husband, not quite understanding what Serge
+meant, but her mind was on the alert, and in an alarmed tone, she
+resumed:
+
+"What strange words you are uttering?  Are we not both young?  And, if
+you like, is there not much happiness in store for us?"
+
+And she clung to him.  Serge turned away.
+
+"Oh, stay," she murmured, again putting her arms round him.  "You are so
+truly mine at this moment!"
+
+Panine saw that the opportunity for confessing all had come.  He was able
+to bring tears to his eyes, and went toward the window as if to hide his
+emotion.  Micheline followed him, and, in an eager tone, continued:
+
+"Ah!  I knew you were hiding something.  You are unhappy or in pain;
+threatened perhaps?  Ah!  if you love me, tell me the truth!"
+
+"Well, yes!  It is true, I am threatened.  I am suffering and unhappy!
+But don't expect a confession from me.  I should blush to make it.  But,
+thank Heaven, if I cannot extricate myself from the difficulty in which
+I am placed through my own folly and imprudence--there is yet another way
+out of it."
+
+"Serge!  you would kill yourself!"  cried Micheline, terrified at the
+gesture Panine had made.  "What would become of me then?  But what is
+there that is so hard to explain?  And to whom should it be said?"
+
+"To your mother," answered Serge, bowing his head.
+
+"To my mother?  Very well, I will go to her.  Oh!  don't fear anything.
+I can defend you, and to strike you she will first have to attack me."
+
+Serge put his arms round Micheline, and with a kiss, the hypocrite
+inspired her whom he entrusted with his safety with indomitable courage.
+
+"Wait for me here," added the young wife, and passing through the little
+drawing-room she reached the smoking-room.
+
+She halted there a moment, out of breath and almost choked with emotion.
+The long expected day had arrived.  Serge was coming back to her.  She
+went on, and as she reached the door of the stair leading to her mother's
+rooms, she heard a light tap from without.
+
+Greatly astonished, she opened the door, and suddenly drew back, uttering
+an exclamation.  A woman, thickly veiled, stood before her.
+
+At the sight of Micheline the stranger seemed inclined to turn and fly.
+But overcome with jealousy, the young wife seized her by the arm, dragged
+off her veil, and recognizing her, exclaimed:
+
+"Jeanne!"
+
+Madame Cayrol approached Micheline, and beseechingly stretched out her
+hands:
+
+"Micheline!  don't think--I come--"
+
+"Hold your tongue!"  cried Micheline.  "Don't tell me any lies!  I know
+all!  You are my husband's mistress!"
+
+Crushed by such a stroke, Jeanne hid her face in her hands and moaned:
+
+"O God!"
+
+"You must really be bold," continued Micheline, in a furious tone, "to
+seek him here, in my house, almost in my arms!"
+
+Jeanne drew herself up, blushing with shame and grief.
+
+"Ah!  don't think," she said, "that love brings me here."
+
+"What is it then?"  asked Micheline, contemptuously.
+
+"The knowledge of inevitable and pressing danger which threatens Serge."
+
+"A danger!  Of what kind?"
+
+"Compromised by Herzog, he is at the mercy of my husband, who has sworn
+to ruin him."
+
+"Your husband!"
+
+"Yes, he is his rival.  If you could ruin me, would you not do it?"  said
+Jeanne.
+
+"You!"  retorted Micheline, passionately.  "Do you think I am going to
+worry about you?  Serge is my first thought.  You say you came to warn
+him.  What must be done?"
+
+"Without a moment's delay he must go away!"
+
+A strange suspicion crossed Micheline's mind.  She approached Jeanne, and
+looking earnestly at her, said:
+
+"He must go away without delay, eh?  And it is you, braving everything,
+without a thought of the trouble you leave behind you, who come to warn
+him?  Ah! you mean to go with him?"
+
+Jeanne hesitated a moment.  Then, boldly and impudently, defying and
+almost threatening the legitimate wife:
+
+"Well, yes, I wish to!  Enough of dissimulation!  I love him!"  she
+exclaimed.
+
+Micheline, transfigured by passion, strong, and ready for a struggle,
+threw herself in Jeanne's way, with arms outstretched, as if to prevent
+her going to Serge.
+
+"Well!"  she said; "try to take him from me!"
+
+"Take him from you!"  answered Jeanne, laughing like a mad woman.  "To
+whom does he most belong?  To the woman who was as ignorant of his love
+as she was of his danger; who could do nothing toward his happiness, and
+can do nothing for his safety?  Or to the mistress who has sacrificed her
+honor to please him and risks her safety to save him?"
+
+"Ah! wretch!"  cried Micheline, "to invoke your infamy as a right!"
+
+"Which of us has taken him from the other?"  continued Jeanne, forgetting
+respect, modesty, everything.  "Do you know that he loved me before he
+married you?  Do you know that he abandoned me for you--for your money,
+I should say?  Now, do you wish to weigh what I have suffered with what
+you suffer?  Shall we make out a balance-sheet of our tears?  Then, you
+will be able to tell which of us he has loved more, and to whom he really
+belongs."
+
+Micheline had listened to this furious address almost in a state of
+stupor, and replied, vehemently:
+
+"What matter who triumphs if his ruin is certain.  Selfish creatures that
+we are, instead of disputing about his love, let us unite in saving him!
+You say he must go away!  But flight is surely an admission of guilt--
+humiliation and obscurity in a strange land.  And that is what you
+advise, because you hope to share that miserable existence with him.  You
+are urging him on to dishonor.  His fate is in the hands of a man who
+adores you, who would sacrifice everything for you, as I would for Serge,
+and yet you have not thrown yourself at his feet!  You have not offered
+your life as the price of your lover's!  And you say that you love him!"
+
+"Ah!" stammered Jeanne, distracted.  "You wish me to save him for you!"
+
+"Is that the cry of your heart?"  said Micheline, with crushing disdain.
+"Well, see what I am ready to do.  If, to remove your jealous fears, it
+is necessary to sacrifice myself, I swear to you that if Serge be saved,
+he shall be perfectly free, and I will never see him again!"
+
+Micheline, chaste and calm, with hands raised to Heaven, seemed to grow
+taller and nobler.  Jeanne, trembling and overpowered, looked at her
+rival with a painful effort, and murmured, softly:
+
+"Would you do that?"
+
+"I would do more!"  said the lawful wife, bending before the mistress.
+"I ought to hate you, and I kneel at your feet and beseech you to listen
+to me.  Do what I ask you and I will forgive you and bless you.  Do not
+hesitate!  Follow me!  Let us throw ourselves at the feet of him whom you
+have outraged.  His generosity cannot be less than ours, and to us, who
+sacrifice our love, he will not be able to refuse to sacrifice his
+vengeance."
+
+This greatness and goodness awaked feelings in Jeanne's heart which she
+thought dead.  She was silent for a moment and then her breast heaved
+with convulsive sobs, and she fell helpless into the arms which
+Micheline, full of pity, held out to her.
+
+"Forgive me," moaned the unhappy woman.  "I am conquered.  Your rights
+are sacred, and you have just made them still more so.  Keep Serge: with
+you he will once more become honest and happy, because, if your love is
+not greater than mine, it is nobler and purer."
+
+The two women went hand in hand to try to save the man whom they both
+adored.
+
+All this time Serge remained in the little drawing-room enjoying the hope
+of returning peace.  It was sweet to him, after the troubles he had gone
+through.  He had not the slightest suspicion of the scene in the
+adjoining room between Jeanne and Micheline.  The fond heroism of his
+wife and the self-denial of his mistress were unknown to him.
+
+Time was passing.  At least an hour had sped since Micheline left him to
+go to her mother, and Serge was beginning to think that the interview was
+very long, when a light step made him tremble.  It came from the gallery.
+He thought it was Micheline, and opening the door, he went to meet her.
+
+He drew back disappointed, vexed, and anxious, when he found it was
+Pierre.  The two men had never met alone since that terrible night at
+Nice.  Panine assumed a bold demeanor, and returned Pierre's firm look.
+Steadying his voice, he said:
+
+"Ah!  is it you?"
+
+"Were you not expecting me?"  answered Pierre whose harsh voice thrilled
+Serge.
+
+The Prince opened his mouth to speak, but Pierre, did not give him time.
+In stern and provoking accents, he continued:
+
+"I made you a promise once; have you forgotten it?  I have a good memory.
+You are a villain, and I come to chastise you!"
+
+"Pierre!"  exclaimed the Prince, starting fiercely.
+
+But he suddenly calmed himself, and added:
+
+"Leave me!  I will not listen to you!"
+
+"You will have to, though!  You are a source of trouble and shame to the
+family to which you have allied yourself, and as you have not the courage
+to kill yourself, I have come to help you.  You must leave Paris to-
+night, or you will be arrested.  We shall go together to Brussels and
+there we shall fight.  If chance favors you, you will be at liberty to
+continue your infamies, but at any rate I shall have done my best to rid
+two unfortunate women of your presence."
+
+"You are mad!"  said Serge, sneeringly.
+
+"Don't think so!  And know that I am ready for any emergency.  Come; must
+I strike you, to give you courage?"  growled Pierre, ready to suit the
+action to the word.
+
+"Ah!  take care!"  snarled Serge, with an evil look.
+
+And opening a drawer which was close to him, he took out a revolver.
+
+"Thief first, then murderer!"  said Pierre, with a terrible laugh.
+"Come, let's see you do it!"
+
+And he was going toward the Prince when the door opened, and Madame
+Desvarennes came forward.  Placing her hand on Pierre's shoulder, she
+said, in that commanding tone which few could resist:
+
+"Go; wait for me in my room.  I wish it!"
+
+Pierre bowed, and, without answering, went out.
+
+Serge had placed the pistol on the table and was waiting.
+
+"We have to talk over several matters," said Madame Desvarennes, gravely,
+"and you know it."
+
+"Yes, Madame," answered Panine, sadly, "and, believe me, no one judges my
+conduct more severely than I do."
+
+The mistress could not help looking surprised.
+
+"Ah!"  she said, with irony, "I did not expect to find you in such a
+mood.  You have not accustomed me to such humility and sweetness.  You
+must be afraid, to have arrived at that stage!"
+
+The Prince appeared not to have understood the implied insult in his
+mother-in-law's words.  One thing struck him, which was that she
+evidently did not expect to find him repentant and humbled.
+
+"Micheline must have told you," he began.
+
+"I have not seen my daughter," interrupted the mistress, sharply, as if
+to make him understand that he must depend solely upon himself.
+
+Ignorant that Micheline had met Jeanne on her way to her mother, and had
+gone to Cayrol, Serge thought he was abandoned by his only powerful ally.
+He saw that he was lost and that his feigned resignation was useless.
+Unable to control himself any longer, his face darkened with rage.
+
+"She, too, against me!  Well!  I will defend myself alone!"
+
+Turning toward Madame Desvarennes, he added:
+
+"To begin with, what do you want with me?"
+
+"I wish to ask you a question.  We business folk when we fail, and cannot
+pay our way, throw blood on the blot and it disappears.  You members of
+the nobility, when you are disgraced, how do you manage?"
+
+"If I am not mistaken, Madame," answered the Prince, in a light tone,
+"you do me the favor of asking what my intentions are for the future?
+I will answer you with precision.  I purpose leaving to-night for Aix-la-
+Chapelle, where I shall join my friend Herzog.  We shall begin our
+business again.  My wife, on whose good feelings I rely, will accompany
+me, notwithstanding everything."
+
+And in these last words he put all the venom of his soul.
+
+"My daughter will not leave me!"  exclaimed Madame Desvarennes.
+
+"Very well, then, you can accompany her," retorted Panine.  "That
+arrangement will suit me.  Since my troubles I have learned to appreciate
+domestic happiness."
+
+"Ah!  you hope to play your old games on me," said Madame Desvarennes.
+"You won't get much out of me.  My daughter and I with you--in the stream
+where you are going to sink?  Never!"
+
+"Well, then," cried Panine, "what do you expect?"
+
+A violent ring at the front door resounded as Madame Desvarennes was
+about to answer, and stopped the words on her lips.  This signal, which
+was used only on important occasions, sounded to Madame like a funeral
+knell.  Serge frowned, and instinctively moved back.
+
+Marechal appeared through the half-open door with a scared face, and
+silently handed Madame Desvarennes a card.  She glanced at it, turned
+pale, and said to the secretary:
+
+"Very well, let him wait!"  She threw the card on the table.  Serge came
+forward and read:
+
+"Delbarre, sheriff's officer."
+
+Haggard-looking and aghast, he turned to the mistress, as if seeking an
+explanation.
+
+"Well!"  she observed: "it is clear, he has come to arrest you."
+
+Serge rushed to a cabinet, and opening a drawer, took forth some handfuls
+of gold and notes, which he crammed into his pockets.
+
+"By the back stairs I shall have time to get away.  It is my last chance!
+Keep the man for five minutes only."
+
+"And if the door is guarded?"  asked Madame Desvarennes.
+
+Serge remained abject before her.  He felt himself enclosed in a ring
+which he could not break through.
+
+"One may be prosecuted without being condemned," he gasped.  "You will
+use your influence, I know, and you will get me out of this mess.  I
+shall be grateful to you for ever, and will do anything you like!  But
+don't leave me, it would be cowardly!"
+
+He trembled, as he thus besought her distractedly.
+
+"The son-in-law of Madame Desvarennes does not go before the Assize
+Courts even to be acquitted," said she, with a firm voice.
+
+"What would you have me do?"  cried Serge, passionately.
+
+Madame Desvarennes did not answer, but pointed to the revolver on the
+table.
+
+"Kill myself?  Ah! no; that would be giving you too much pleasure."
+
+And he gave the weapon a push, so that it rolled close to Madame
+Desvarennes.
+
+"Ah! wretch!"  cried she, giving way to her suppressed rage.  "You are
+not even a Panine!  The Panines knew how to die."
+
+"I have not time to act a melodrama with you," snarled Serge.  "I am
+going to try to save myself."
+
+And he took a step toward the door.
+
+The mistress seized the revolver, and threw herself before him.
+
+"You shall not go out!"  she cried.
+
+"Are you mad?"  he exclaimed, gnashing his teeth.
+
+"You shall not go out!"  repeated the mistress, with flashing eyes.
+
+"We shall see!"
+
+And with a strong arm he seized Madame Desvarennes, and threw her aside.
+
+The mistress became livid.  Serge had his hand on the handle of the door.
+He was about to escape.  Madame Desvarennes's arm was stretched forth.
+
+A shot made the windows rattle; the weapon fell from her hand, having
+done its work and, amid the smoke, a body dropped heavily on the carpet,
+which was soon dyed with blood.
+
+At the same moment, the door opened, and Micheline entered, holding in
+her hand the fatal receipt which she had just wrung from Cayrol.  The
+young wife uttered a heartrending cry, and fell senseless on Serge's
+body.
+
+Behind Micheline came the officer and Marechal.  The secretary exchanged
+looks with the mistress, who was lifting her fainting daughter and
+clasping her in her arms.  He understood all.
+
+Turning toward his companion, he said:
+
+"Alas!  sir, here is a sad matter!  The Prince, on hearing that you had
+come, took fright, although his fault was not very serious, and has shot
+himself."
+
+The officer bowed respectfully to the mistress, who was bending over
+Micheline.
+
+"Please to withdraw, Madame.  You have already suffered too much," said
+he.  "I understand your legitimate grief.  If I need any information,
+this gentleman will give it to me."
+
+Madame Desvarennes arose, and, without bending under the burden, she bore
+away on her bosom her daughter, regained.
+
+
+
+
+ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:
+
+Cowardly in trouble as he had been insolent in prosperity
+Heed that you lose not in dignity what you gain in revenge
+She would have liked the world to be in mourning
+The guilty will not feel your blows, but the innocent
+
+
+
+
+End of this Project Gutenberg Etext of Serge Panine, v4
+by Georges Ohnet
+
+
+
+
+
+
+ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS FOR THE ENTIRE SERGE PANINE:
+
+A man weeps with difficulty before a woman
+A uniform is the only garb which can hide poverty honorably
+Antagonism to plutocracy and hatred of aristocrats
+Because they moved, they thought they were progressing
+Cowardly in trouble as he had been insolent in prosperity
+Enough to be nobody's unless I belong to him
+Even those who do not love her desire to know her
+Everywhere was feverish excitement, dissipation, and nullity
+Flayed and roasted alive by the critics
+Forget a dream and accept a reality
+Hard workers are pitiful lovers
+He lost his time, his money, his hair, his illusions
+He was very unhappy at being misunderstood
+Heed that you lose not in dignity what you gain in revenge
+I thought the best means of being loved were to deserve it
+I don't pay myself with words
+Implacable self-interest which is the law of the world
+In life it is only nonsense that is common-sense
+Is a man ever poor when he has two arms?
+Is it by law only that you wish to keep me?
+It was a relief when they rose from the table
+Men of pleasure remain all their lives mediocre workers
+Money troubles are not mortal
+My aunt is jealous of me because I am a man of ideas
+Negroes, all but monkeys!
+Nothing that provokes laughter more than a disappointed lover
+One amuses one's self at the risk of dying
+Patience, should he encounter a dull page here or there
+Romanticism still ferments beneath the varnish of Naturalism
+Sacrifice his artistic leanings to popular caprice
+Scarcely was one scheme launched when another idea occurred
+She would have liked the world to be in mourning
+Suffering is a human law; the world is an arena
+Talk with me sometimes.  You will not chatter trivialities
+The guilty will not feel your blows, but the innocent
+The uncontested power which money brings
+They had only one aim, one passion--to enjoy themselves
+Unqualified for happiness
+We had taken the dream of a day for eternal happiness
+What is a man who remains useless
+Without a care or a cross, he grew weary like a prisoner
+You are talking too much about it to be sincere
+
+
+
+
+End of this Project Gutenberg Etext of Serge Panine, entire
+by Georges Ohnet
+
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