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HARVARD
COLLEGE
LIBRARY
^/ -->
i^i
-y. ^n
A. N TON I A.
<^
a; .Ndy£L. »
GEORGE SAND.
TrmM9hi€d from ike French
BY VIRGINIA VAUGHAN.
Li^.^^'
BOSTON:
ROBERTS BROTHERS.
1870.
. I (\
^i ^ .^ iA 'x- -7f r%
i
j<
tj.1 :>0/-
HARVARD
COLLEGE
LIBRARY
1
/
^^ANTONIA.^
A, NOYeL \
By GEORGE SAND.
By VIRGINIA VAUCHAN.
BOSTON:
ROBERTS BROTHERS.
1S70.
>,/r
.ANTON I A.
A,..NOyBt. \
I
\> '
• • 1*1 *
if
By GEORGE SAND.
Tramslattd /rem ikt Frtmdk
By VIRGINIA VAUGHAN.
\
BOSTON:
ROBERTS BROTHERS.
1870.
I A
h
^^■^ J
GEORGE SAND'S NOVELS.
ANTONIA.
•
HARVARD
UNIVERSITY
LIBRARY
^/jr^'7^f'f^
ImftmCkmkh
■ccDKihig lo Act of CoagrtM, ia iIm ywrnr 1870^ by
ROBERTS BROTHBR8,
of tiM District Cmifft of tlw DiaCrict of
•T HmM e, umuAW * 00.
Setiication.
mo M. EDOUABD BODBIGUES, the ikUier of thtt
fatherlesfy and (Kend of the friondleu; who does
good for its own uke» with the lame •implicit, the lame
freedom and readinow, with which he interprets Mozart and
Beethoren*
GEORGE SAND.
' I
» »
• .'. .
r I t
PUBLISHERS' NOTE.
rpHE reeepCioQ of **MAiiprRt»** tho initial Tolimia of tiia
eoBtemplated Sundjurd Libnuy Edition of Gborob
8ijn>^ Korelfly ham asrared the pnbliibon that the public mind
it sow ripe for tho worka of ** the grand protateur of the
■ineteenth oentmy.**
Two artidef on Gborob Sakd and her writings are added
to thia Tolnme : one, written tpocialljrfor the pnrpoiCtbjaUd/
eminently qoalified bj Tean of ttndj ; and the other, l^ Jnatin
ITGartlqr, reprinted from **The Galas/,** hj kind penniMion
of ita poblithen.
ANT'ONIA.
I.
TT was tho month of April, in tlio year 1786, in Paris ;
^ the spring that year was a gonnino spring. Tho gar-
dens were in holiday dress, tho gross was enamelled with
daisies, the hirds wero singing, and the lilacs wero grow-
ing in such profusion near Julien's window, that their full-
blown thyrsi bent over into his very room, and scattered
their little flowerets over tho great white squares of the
floor of his studio.
Julien Thierry was a flower-painter, like his father,
Andre Thierry, who had been very famous in the time
of Louis XV. as a decorator of friezes, panels of dining-
rooms, and ceilings of boudoirs. In his skilful hands
these graceful ornaments became real works of art ; so
much so, indeed, that he ceased to be an artisan, and
gained a great reputation as an artist ; ho was highly
esteemed by persons of taste, his work commanded great
prices, and he was a person of consideration in society.
Julien, his pupil, devoted himself to painting upon canvas.
In his generation, the light and charming decorations
in the Pompadour stylo had ceased to bo fashion-
able. The severer taste of tho Louis XVI. era no longer
scattered flowers over ceilings and walls, it framed them.
Julien, therefore, painted flowers, fruits, pearl-shells,
brilliant butterflies, green lizards, and drops of dew, in
the manner of Mignon. He had a great deal of talent,
he was handsome, ho was twenty-four years old, and his
father had left him nothing but debts.
The widow of Andr6 lliierry was with Julien, in this
suuiio where he was at work, and where the bunches of
S ANTONIA.
Hbe were being despoiled by the earesses of the warm
breeze. Althoagh aTVoman of sixtj, she was well pre-
served : her eyes were still beautiful ; her hair was almost
Mack, and her hands wcjixi delicate. Small, slender,
lair, and dressed wi«b*« conitiiqite neatness, although with
extreme simplicity, f\ytb was knitting, and evorj now
and then looked up at her son, absorbed in studying a rose.
**Jalieii9''she said, *^ why is it that you do not sing
any longer at your work? You miglit, perhaps, per*
raade the nightingale to let us hear its voice/'
** Listen, mother, he is beginning now of his own ao-
cord," replied Julien ; ** ho does not require a leader."
In (act, the nightingale, for the first time in the year,
began at this very moment to pour forth his pure and ro-
•oimding notes.
** Ah I it is really singing I ** cried Madam Thierry.
^A year has gone by. Do you see it, Julien?" she
added, as the young man, interrupting his work, gazed
into the thick grove before the window.
**I thought that I saw her," ho replied, with a sigh ;
^ but I was mistaken."
lie returned to his easel. Ilis mother looked at him
anxiously, but asked no further qucstidtis.
** It is the same thing," she continued, after a pause,
**yoa have a beautiful voice also, and I lovo to hear the
pretty songs that }'our poor father sang so well — only a
year ago, at this time I "
** Yes," said Julien, **you want me to sing. his songs,
and then you weep. No, I will not sing them."
**I wiU not shed a tear, I promise youl Sing me
aomething gny, and I will laugh— - as if ho were hero."
** No, do not ask me, mother 1 It pains me as well as
yon to hear those songs. Give mo a little time. Let all
eome about gently. Do not let us do violence to our sor-
n
** Julien, you must not talk of sorrow any longer,"
aaad the mother firmly, although in an agitated voice.
^ I was weak at first, but you will pardon me 1 It was
no light blow to lose forty years of happiness in a single
dajl Bot I should have remembered that your loM i«^
ANTONIA. 3
greolcr than miDO, for j'ou rcmaia to mo ; — wtiilo I — I
un good for noUiing cxccpliog to lovo rou."
"And what moro do I roquiro?" inid Julicn, kaocling
at his inotlicr's lidc. " I know thnt you love mo ns no
ono over will lore mo. And do not Kiy that you linvo
been weak. You Iwto buriod your sorrows iu your own
licart u well oa yon could ; I havo sccu and uudcrstood ,
all your struggles, nnd I Iliank you fur tlicm, uiy poor
uiollicr I You have given mo strength, and I havo
needed your support, for I tmvo Lnd to sufTor for you as
well as myself. Your courage gave ma fuilh lliiit God
would perform n miiiicle in myfuvor; llint llo would
prcscrvo your Ucallk and lifu in spite of the modt cruel
, trials ; and Ho has gmniod mo this reward. You do not
foci ill now, do you, mollior?"
"No, my child, I ni« really well I You are right
in Ihiakiug that God will sustain those who oru true to
themselves ; llmt IIo will give strength tojhoso who pray
lor it with (heir whole hearts. Do not lliink that I am
ivrclchod 1 I linvc wept a grcut deal, — how could I do
otherwise? IIo was so good, so amiable, so happy I
Jt seemed OS if ho Imd still nmny years to live. God
decreed otherwise. I*or iny purl, I have had so much
happiness in my life, tlutt I had really no right to expect
anything moro. And God was inoreifiil, even whilo
afllictiug me, for llo hns lefl me the best, tho most be-
loved of sons I What right have I, then, to weep, aud
pray for death 1 Ko, no ; I will rejoin j-oiir gooil father
, when my hour comes, and when wo meet ho will soy,
* You havo dona well to live, to linger in yonder lower
world, for tho sako of our woll-belov^ child.'"
" You 800, then," said Julicn, embracing his mother,
" that wa are neither of us unhappy nny longer, and
that it is not necessary for me to sing for our amuse-
ment. Wo can think of him without hiiEcrness ; wo can
cherish each othor without scllishiicss."
Madam Thierry folded her son to her heart for a
moment, and they resumed Ihoir dilforent occupations.
This scone occurred in an old pavilion, datiug back to
*}»n\ga of I«ouis XIIL, that stood at tho end of Um
4 ANTONIA.
me de Babykme. The most modem Inulding on thb stroet,
•ad Iho one nearest to the pavilion, was a house now
demolished^ which was then called the hotel d'EstroUo.
At the same time that Julion and his mother were
talking in the pavilion, two persons wore chatting to-
gether in a pretty little saloon of the hotel d'Estrellc, «-
a fresh, eosj drawing-room decorated in the taste of the
latter part of the reign of Louis XVI., — that is, a
graceful, bastard Greek style, a little cold in the lines,
but harmonious, and enriched with gilding on a white
aod pearl ground. The Countess d'KstreUe was dressed
•imply in a half-mourning gray silk; the Baroness
d'Anconrt, her friend, was in demi-toilette, — a costume
adapted for informal visits; that is to say, making a
great display of muslins, ribbons, and laces.
** My dear friend,'* she said to the countess, *^ I do not
understand you at all. You are twenty years old, beau-
tiful as an angel, and yet you persist in living alone, like
an insignificant bourgcoise. Your two years of mourning
have expired, and every one knows you had no occasion
to regret your husband ; no man ever lived who so little
deserved regret. He was considerate enough to leave
yoa a fortune, and that really was the only sensible act of
his life.''
^^ Upon that point, dear baroness, you are utterly mis-
taken. Tlie cotmt left me a fortune, it is true, but it was
CDCumbercd with debts. Assured tlmt I might liberate it
in a few years by making certain sacrifices, and enduring
eertain privations, I accepted the inheritance without
close examination ; and now, after two years of uncer-
tainty, — after endless explanations that I have never
nnderstood at all, — my new lawyer, — who is a very
honest man, — assures me that I have been deceived, and
am poor instead of being rich. It was upon this subject,
my dear, that I was consulting with my lawyer this morn-
ing, in order to decide whether or not I can keep the
hotel d'EstreUe."
- ««WhatI sell your hotel I Impossible, my dearl
It would be a disgrace to the nnemory of your husband.
|Iie family wonld never altow it."
ANTONIA. 5
" The/ wy tlioy will not allow it ; but Wa&j tay otm
that (bc7 will not help mo in any wny. What do Ih^r
expect, nnd what would jrou haro mo do7"
^'Tlicj nro a contomptiblo set, tUtit famil/," cried th«
boroncM ; " but nothin;; would mirpriM mo on tbo put
of tho old marquis nnd his bigot of a wifo."
At this moment M. Mnrccl Thierry was announcod.
"Show him in," said tho countess ; and, turning to lh«
baroness, she added, " it is tho person of whom I waa
just speaking, — my lawyer."
" In llutt case I will go."
"That is by no means necessary. He will only h»TO ft
few words to say ; and, since yon know my positiOD — "
" You will allow mo to remain. I (hank you with nil
my licnrt, for I am interested in oU that concerns you."
Tlio lawj-cr entered.
He was a fine-looking man, apparently forty years old,
and unusually bald for that age ; his face was frank,
cheerful and serene, ahliough he liod a remarkably pen-
elratiQg, and even scornful expression. Ilis professional
espcriencos hod made him practical, nnd perhaps scep-
tical ; but it was evident that tlioy had not destroyed his
ideal of integrity and honor ; perhaps they had only mode
bim tho better able to apprcciato and rccogniio that ideal.
" Ah, well, llonsiour Thicrrj*," said tho countess,
pointing to a ctmir, "hare you heard nny news since
morning, that yon lake tho Iroublo to return? "
" Yes, madam," replied the lawyer ; " II. the Marquis
d'Eslrello has sent his busiuess agent to me with an offer
that 1 only await your permission to accept. lie proposes
to como to your assistance by rcUnquishmg in yom: fnvor
certain smoll pieces of pro|)eny, not of sufficient value
to cover the debts that harass you, but which will re-
lioro you for the momeni, and delay tho salo of your
hotel, by enabling you to pay something upon account to
your creditors."
"Upon account! Is that all?" cried tbo baroness,
indignantly. *' Is that all tho family d'Estrelle can do
for (ho wife of a prodigal? It is pcrloctly infamous I "
"It is certainly not magnanimous," replied Mai«et
6 ANTONIA.
Thierrj, *' but I havo exerted mj eloquence io Tiun, and so
tlie matter atands. As Madam d'Estrelle has no fortune
of her own, she is obligod, in order to retain a very mod-
erate dowrj, to submit to the conditions of a familj who
powess neither delicacj nor goncfoei^."
** Saj who possess neither heart nor honor/' replied
the baroness, rhetorically.
** Saj nothing at all,^ said the countess, who spoke at
Jast, after listening with resignation to all that had been
•aid. ^^ These people aro what they are, and I am not
the one to judge them, I who bear their name. We are
atrangers in all other respects, and I hare no excuse for
complaining, for it is I alone who am guil^/*
^ Guiltj 1 ** said the baroness, rolling back in her arm-
diair in hm surprise.
** Guiltj 1 " repeated the lawyer, with a smile of in-
credulity.
^ Yes," repeated Madam d'Estrelle, '* I have com-
mitted one great fault in my life : I consented to marry
a man to whom I felt an instinctive aversion. It was
cowardly. I was a child, and was compelled to choose
between a convent and a disagreeable husband. Afraid
of the eternal seclusion of the cloister, I accepted in-
atead the eternal humiliation of an uncongenial mar-
riage. Like so many others, I thought that wealth would
take the place of happiness. Happiness I I do not
know, I have never known what it was. I was taught
to believe that it consisted, above all things, in ridmg in
a carriage, wearing diamonds, and having a box at the
opera. I was bewildered, intoxicated, lulled to sleep
with presents. I will not say that I was forced to give
my hand, for it would not be true. Gratings, bars, bolts,
the life-king prison of the convent awaited me, in case I
had refused ; but not the axe of the executioner ; and, if
I had been brave, I might have said No. We women
bava no courage, dear baroness, we may as well acknowl-
odgo it ; we aro not strons enough bravely to sacrifice
oonalvas; to hide the spnng-time of our youth under
the Uadt veil ; and yet it would be prouder, nobler, and
pgfhape tweeter to do this than to let ourselves (all vblXa
•
HARVARD
UNIVERSITY
LIBRARY
MAI ftlMI
V>'^'^'7'f -^^
latlM
■eeording to Act of CoafrtM, (a tho ytu i8|ft» by
ROBKRTS BROTHBR8,
Ctork^ OAct of tho Dblriet Covrt of Hw District of
■vasartTTrw* mx nmn o. BauAM * oo.
^L
ANTONIA. 9
**That 18 possible/* replied Thierry, **bat the land is
valuable ; the street is bein;; built up, and it can easiljr
be sold for the site of a buildiog."
** Do you think I would allow a building to be erected
so near me," said Julio ; *^ a house overlooking my gar-
den, and almost my apartments ? "
**You would have to require the house to torn its
bock to you ; there need be no windows except on tho
street, or overlooking my uncle's garden/'
''Who? Your uncle?'' said the baroness, disdain-
fully.
" M. Marcel Thierry," said the countess, *' is the near
relative of my neighbor, the rich M. Antoine Thierry,
whom you must certainly have heard spoken of."
*' Ah, yes ; an old merchant."
'* Ship-owner," said Marcel ; ** he made his fortune
in the colonics, without ever putting his foot into a vessel ;
thanks to his skilful calculations, and to fortunate cir-
cumstances, he has gained several millions by his fire*
side, us you may say."
** Present my compliments to him," replied the baroness.
** And so he lives in this street ? "
*'His hotel fronts upon the new street, but there is only
a wall between his garden and that of the Countess
d*£strelle ; the pavilion is in a comer between the two
estates. My uncle, I dare say, will be glad to purchase
this pavilion ; it will always be useful to him, whether he
tears it down to make room for his garden, or turns it
into a greenhouse or gardener's lodge."
*^ The rich M. Thierry then desires this pavilion," said
the baroness; '* perhaps he has already commissioned
you — "
**He has given me no commission at all,** replied
Marcel, interrupting her, with dignity; *»he knows
nothing about the affairs of my other clients."
*^ You are his lawyer, then, also ? "
** Naturally, madam ; but that would not prevent mo
from asking the highest possible price, if the countess
chooses to sell ; nor would he owe me any grudge upon
that account. lie understands business too well not to
lO ANTONIA.
know tha ntloe or a piece of real eatato that be wiibaa
to own."
" But I bare not yot doddod to sell tho pavilion," laid
the GOUQtcM, slortiag from a raguo rcvcrio ; ** it does not
tivnUla mo in anj way, and I undorataod that it is occu-
pied bjr a vcrj quiet and doserring porsoD."
" Yea, nuLdam," taid Marcel, " but tho rent ii ao amalt
that it wiU odd but little to yonr income. HowoTor, if
JOB dwoae (o keep it, it will be aioful as BOcnritj for one
of jour dcbta."
"We will aeo about it, M. Thiorry. I will tbink tbe
natter orer, and 70a will give me jronr ndvico. How
noch ia the property that the marqnia haa given me
worth?"
" About tbirif thonsand franea."
"Ousbt I to Ibank him for it?"
" If I worojroo I would do DOthing of tho kind," cried
the baroDcaa.
"Tbonk him bj all mcana," aaid the lawyer, in a low '
Toiee; "a word of gratiludOi oxproiaod wiih goatle*
neai and reaignation, can do no harm, and it will coat %
heart like foura nolliing."
The oountoaa wrote a few linoi, and gave them to
Uareol.
" Let ua hope," ho said, rising, " that tho Marqnia
d'Ealrelle will bo louchod bj your goodness." ■
" lie is not a bad nwn," replied Julie, " but ho is very
old and verjr feeble, and his aecoud wife governs hiia
eomrietely.'^
"That ox-Madam d'OrUnde is a veritable post," cried
the boroocsa.
"You should not sajr aaythiag agniust lior, madnm,"
replied Uorccl ; " she belongs to your world, and holds
eptnioos which you accept as the law and the prapheta."
"IIow ao, Mr. Lawvor?"
" She detests now ideas, and regards the priviky^ of
TMk aa tho holy are of tradition."
" Do not iosult me by eompariug me with that woman,"
md tho barooeas ; *' bar ideaa may be eorraet, but bar
ASTOiflA. II
cbnclact is nbominable. Sho is avaricious, and it is said
Tould oven betray her opinions for monoj."
" Oh, in that case," said SlarccI, with a dubious smilo,
which iliuhimo d'Aiicoiirt consitlcnjd an expnwsioa of
homagOi " ' ^'^ uiidcmtaud (hat jron, madam, miut n^
gord hor with protbuad avcnioa."
Ud bowod nnd withdrew.
"That is quito n wcll>brcd man I " snid the baroness,
noticing tlic dignity and oaso with which he loft tlw room.
" la Ills name Thierry ? "
" Yos ; and that niso of his wealthy nnclo, and of still
another uncle, who lind n far mora desirable roputatioai
Thierry, the flowor-pn inter."
*'AhI Thepoiator? I camo very near knowing that
wortliy Thierry myself. Hyhuaband rooeivod him in tho
morning."
" IIo was received by every one at all hoors, my door
child, —at least hy all persons of taste and mind ; for ho
wns a charming old man, perfectly wcU-hrod, and ro*
markably agrcoublo."
" It Bcoins, then, Hint tho Uaron d'Aneourt is not a
person of luiud and taste, for ho would not invite him — "
" I did not say ihot tho haroa — "
" Oil, sny so, say so, if you chooso ; it is tho same
thing to mo ; I havo kooivn him longer than you."
Tho baroness had n sovereign disdnio for tho intellect
of hor hushand, but she pardoned his stupidity in con'
uderntioD of his roulc ; and, with this two.cdgod reply^
slio burst into a fresh, joyous peal of Inughier.
"Lot us return to ourconversaliou about ihoso Tliio^
rys," she said. " Were you ncquaiotcd with tho artist ? "
" No, I did not have that pleasure. You know tlutt
tlio Count d'Kstrello was tnken iU soon after our mar*
riago, and I accompanied him to tlio ballis; bo soak
into a rapid decline, and tho ood of tho matlor wm> that
I did not SCO any one."
" No woudor that you know nothing about tho world,
sineo you have novor caught oven a glimpse of it. Poor
little thing I After eacriflcing yourself to make a bril*
Uant marriage, what a life yon have led I Nor^ng a
dyinf DMSt wMiing mouraiDg^ ud the botbw of biui*
IMW. Wa mtut put a stop to tbi* lort of thing, doir
Jolis ; jroa miut marrj ftgaia I "
** Ah, HcftTOD forbid I " criod the countera.
** YoD doa't propoM to livo alooo, aud bnrjr yoonolf
•lire, U foor ngo ? Imposaiblo I "
**I euutot idl Tou what Z propoeo to do, for I roolljr
da BOl know, lijr lifo luis been lo dificront from that of
nwit jromig womcc, to whom murriago briaj^ wealth and
libntj, that I do not know m/ owd toatcs. I know, bow-
•rer, that I wos miscrablo during tlio two yoan of mjr
' d life, and that I ihonld bo himpicr in my prcsont
a Ihoa over boforo, wore it not for thcao pcciinioiv
roMmonts, which onnoj mo cxcocdingljr, oltlMnigh
Z liT to «ndaro thom without biticrocu. hly mind ii not
briluont, and my character, perhaps, lacks tUo noccMory
eloaticity lo onnblo mo to rebound from miBfortuno.
Obli;;cd lo occupy myMlf to pnsa nwny tho ilmo, I liavo
acquired a taste lor serious nmuscmonts. I rood a grout
deal, draw a little, study miuic, and write lottcn to my
(M conTcut friends. I am acquainted with a few qnict,
bat cxocUent people, who aro my only visitors, and my lifo
i> calm and well regulated. I am not nnhappy, and da not
■nffcr from onnni, and that is saying a great deal for a
pcrsM who at ono time was always wcoping or yawning.
Do not, therefore, my door friend, seek to disturb tlu
placid moooloDy of my cxiBtcnco. Como and seo mo
whoa yoa can, without intorforing with your ploasorcs ;
hot do not fed ooxious about mo, for I am really tuj
** That is all very well for tbo moment, my dear. Ton
show yourself to bo a woman of character, by meeting bad
fbrtlUM couragconsly. But there is a timo for cvoiylhing ;
yov must not forget iho odroDtoges that youth and beauty
procure, and allow them to escape yon. Your family,—
TOU will cxcoso mo for saying so, — was not veiy good ;
but yon derived a distinguished name, at least, from your
ndaacholy marriage, and a title that elevates you iu th«
coosidaratioa of the world. You aro a widow, and therO'
yon have do children, and ihorafiiM
ANTONIA.
n
:j relaiD all tba charm of ^ur youth. Yon have no fortuno
I of your own ; but, hs jour dowry ia iucnnibcrod with
Y debts, you cnn voiy woll afford to ronoanco it nnd seek a
't botior mntch tlioa your first ono. Trust yourself to me,
~\ ond I will find you a suilablo husband ; I will ngrco to
\' arrange iba sort of roarrioge that you have n perfect right
] to look forward to."
'^ " The sort of miirriago I What do yon mean? I do
I not UDdoratand yon."
i " I nicoa that yon an loo chanuiag not lo bo married
\ for lovo."
\ " All voiy well ; but I—, shall I bo able to lore the
. J person lo whom you refer? "
i " ^Vhy not ; if he is really a man of wealth, and,
.| above all, of fi^ood family— it would be unpanlonablo in
I you lo marry bolow your present rank — inslcod of being
j a epcnUtUrin and n fuol? I will (nku airo to sck-ct sucli
.![ a person, and, moroovur ii nmn of honor, with oxptiricnce,
^ knowledge of the world, nnd cuUivalcd tastes ; what can
,1 you nek mora? You will not require, I presume, a
;j youthful Adonis, — a hero of romance I Sucit brilliant
; personages are not oRon to bo met willi ; and, wLcn wo
'if do SCO them, they are llie last oncH, ns a tistLol thing,
inclined to select a bride for her bcauiiful eyes. Every
one, in this ago, is more or less embarrassed."
'* I tmderstand you," rojilicd iladnm d'Eslrclle, with
a sad smile ; " you would like mo to marry some worthy
old gentleman whom you know and csiecm, — for I don (
suppose you would aut mo to accept a monster. Thanks,
my dear baroness, but I do not intend to hire myself out
again to a sick man for largo fees, and, in plain terms,
this is what you want me to do. If my father were alive,
I would do>'oto myself to him joyfully ; I would toad itnd
nurse an aged friend without repining, but never again
will I submit to bo the slavo of on infirm and moroso
tyrant. I fulfilled my sod duties to M. d'Estrclle con-
Bcientiously, and every one gave mo credit for ray conduct,
but I shall not resign my present freedom. Although my
■ parents ore no longer living, I have a few friends, and am
:f contented in their society. I ask nothing more, ud I b^
. 'n
\
■4 ANTONIA.
yon, moet onicstly, sot to trj and mako ms happy ao
cording to an idea of hnppincM vbich I do not share,
Ybo aro still, mj friend, wliat I woa at sixteen years old,
when I married. Itolaining tlio illiuioiu that had beoa
isstillod into me, — imagining that people cannot live tvilb-
oat wealth and display, — you ore younger (hon I, So
mudi lli« belter for yon, since you have married a man
wbo allows you to gratify all your laates. You oak noth-
ing more— is it not so? For my port I am more oxae^
Ing. I desiro to love. You laugh I Oh yes I I know
joor Iboorieil 'The honey-moon is short*; you hare
told mo so a hundred timet ; ' the golden moon is tho only
ooe that norer fades.' Very well ; if this is so, I am so
fixdish as lo say that I still wish to lore and to balievo ; —
if only for a ainj^le day, the first day of my marriage I
TVithmit this, I know by experience that marringe is a
■home and a martyrdom."
" If yon leel so," said the baroness, rising, " I will
leave you, my sweet creature, to your reveries, nnd hunw
Viy bog your pardon for having intDmipled them."
Sha went away very much wounded ; for, although
fKvokms, she was not without peoolralion ; and she felt
that the gentle Julie, in this flash of rcboUion, hod spokcu
tho truth, llowevor, she was not vindictive, and oAor
an bonr bod forgotten her anger. She even felt a UtUa
aad i and at moments was ready to say, —
" Julie is right, perhaps."
As for Julie, her courage abandoned her «• sooa a* aha
was loft akiiM ; her pride melted intotears. Shewasonly
strong in moments of nervous excitement, under the stim-
alas,perb^M,of a more intense longing for affection than
slw acknowledged to herself. She was natarmlly gentle,
and even timorous. She know that the baroness hod ft
good heart, and did not fear a rapture with her ; bat sba
aaid in her tun, —
" Amclie is right, perhi^M 1 I am asking an impoasi-
UUty i tho advantages of wealth and rank, and lov« as
wolll Wbo obtains them all? No one in my positioal
WUla loBgiDg far the ki^test bi^tpiaess, I sk^ P<riMtpa,
ANTONIA. 15
low ATOTTthiDg ; ^ condomti myself to (bo wont Aite of
ftll, — isolatiaa uiU inolnDcliolf."
She took Iior parnsol, — odo of thoM old-fnshioiiod,
while, flat parasols, iliat produced a much protlior oficct -
ia groon grovos tlioa our modern iniisliToonu, — ftod
waadcrcd ponsivoly into hor garden. Tlio hook of her
J liida slippcra patted the grcou turf, her drcu was tuckod
'1 up gracefully over lior straiglit uadcixikirt ; she wondered
A Binid tlio lilacs, breathing the spriug air willi a silent
1 Agony, trembling at th<^ voice of tlie nightingalo, thinlc*
^ ing of no one, and yet carried beyond herself by on inf
j mcnso yearning.
i From lilac-bed to liloc-bod she walked slowly on, natil
if she approached the pnvilioD, where Julicn Thierry, the
% son of the painter, the nephew of the rich man, %xA tlio
\ cousin of the lawyer, whom the roodor already koowi,
j had been at work an hour before. Uodam d'Eilrolle't
\ gnrdcQ was uousually lai^e and beautiful for a garden in
' I Paris ; the regetotion was rich, and it was hud out wiUi
Ji great taste. Every day she walked through it sovornl
'}, times, lingering amid the grovjts, and gazing Badly but
"\ tenderly upon the flowers witli which the turf wns sown.
I She did not turn aside on approaching tho Louis Xi[l.
' I pavilion, or feel any anxiety about being observed, — for
.1 this pavilion had been unoccupied for a long time. Julien
^ and his mother had been living thera only for r mouth.
•k Madame d'EstrcUe lind complained to SlorccI Thierry
'^ that her father-in-law, rather than lose the rent of such %
\ small buiUling, hod let it to strange tenants. Marcel ia-
'i formed her that the now occupant was the widow of his
I uncle, the artist, — a most worthy and rcspoctoble woman.
<t — and she had been completely reassured by this intelli-
( gence. Ho did not mention Julicn. Tlie countess did
I not luiow, perhaps, that tho paiuter had had a son. At
■i all events, she hod not thought of inquiring about hjm.
} She had nover seen him at tho windows, for two roosoiu :
^- in the 'first place she was nearsighted, and the young
.\ women of that period did not use eye-glasses ; in the soo-
'J ond place, Jnlisn, knowing that he was in the neighbor-
X hood of a persoQ of austaro mwmera, had taken great
■6 ANTONIA.
pftlu to keep out of eight. At the windows of tlio upper
etorj Uwlam d'EntraUiB bed aomotimce noticed a IrUjt
wilh k nuble end delicate face, framod in a white cap, wUo
bad bowed to ber with polite rcBerro. She had returned
the ulutaliou of the peaceful widow frankly and respecl-
fnltr, but ihej had never exchanged a word.
To-dajr tho windows on the ground-floor were half-
opon, nod Julie, seeing this, asked horaolf, for lUo flrat
time, wbjr she had noTer entered into friendly rclatiouB
with Uodara Thierry. She looked at tho front of the
little building, and saw that tho door opening into tho
bottom i>( her garden was locked without, at it had been
before tbo parilion was occupied. Madam Thierry bad
but * poor proqmct ; the hotel, and greater port of tho
lawn, wen in a great measure concealed by tho grove in
Inmt of tbo pavi^on. She had not even the right to seat
heraelf in the sun, by tho wall of her own house, at the
foot of the dowering slirubs that grew there, or to pluck
tbo flowers (hat thrust thomBclves into her very tipartmout.
She was forbidden, in tho strongest tonus, by the condi-
tions of ber lease, from taking a step in tho garden. In
brief, tbo door was fastened, and tho tooont hod never
poliiioDed to have it opened.
In point of fact, the countess had expected somo tuch
icqnest, and had intended to comply with it; but she did
not refloct that a feeling of timidity or pride might pro
vent Uadara Thierry from applying to her. Bho thought
of this to-day,— on this day of sclf-exanuoation, ^ and
mroocbed herself for not anticipating the natural desire
of (be poor widow.
" If some great lady in distress hod boon in her place,"
•be thought, " I should not luive forgotten the considera-
tion duo to age and misfortune. This is another proof
of what I have so oRen told the baronasi ; our minds or*
perreiled, and our hearts hardened br the aristoeralio
pnjodices in which wo are educntod. I have been aeUsh
and impolita in my conduct to Ibis lady, who is said to be
inlbulelr respectable, and who is very poor. How ooiUd
IbanboMao fergMfal7 Now,b
', bowerar, I have an op-
ANTONIA. \1
portiiiiiL}^ of repwriDg; my ocgloct, and I will not lose it,
fbr I neod, to-day, to 1m reconciled to myiolf."
Tho conntesB approocliod tho window rcsolately, and
coBgbod two or ihrco limos, to give intimation of lior
presence. No one moved, and she ronturad to tap upon
tho ground-glaiu window-pnno.
Julicn liad gono out, but Modum Thierry was still in
Iho studio. Surprised, sbe cnmo forward ; and, whoa she
saw this beautiful lady, whom she knew very well by
sight, but to whom sho hod never yet spoken, she threw
the window wide open.
" Pardon mc, madam," said the countess, " for intro-
ducing myself to you in such an informal way ; I am
still in lialf-monming, u you see ; I am uot yet making
visits, and, with your permission, I have somoihing lo
say to you. Can you, without ceremony, grant me a
moment's inte^^■iew?"
" Certainly, madam, and with a great deal of pleas-
ure," replied Slndnm Thierry, with cheerful dignity and
ease ; not nt nil in the manner nf a petty bourgcoise, d&^
sled by tho adranccs of a great lady.
Tho countess was struck by the refinement of her foco,
the good taste of her dress, her sweet voice, nod the sort
of pcrfumo of elegance that seemed to exhale from her
wholo person.
" You must sit down," she said ; " I do uot waut to
keep you standing."
" But you, madam? " said tho widow, smiling. " Ah 1
An idea occurs to me. If yon will allow mo, I will
hand you a chair."
" Oh, no, do not take so much tronbla."
*< It la no trouble at all I Ilero is a light caoe-chur,
and, both of ua together — "
Both logetlier, indeed, they passed iho cnno^boir over
the window-t>ill, the one lifting it, Iho other recaiviog it,
and both smiling at this fiuniliar operation, which seemed
to place them at once upon a footing of intimacy.
_ "TbisiswbBtIwaQtedtosRy,"saidMadamd'£strello,
utting down ; " hitherto, yon have been living in a house
bekm^ing to the Uarqois d'Estrelle, my foUier-ia-law ;
mm
i8 AjrroNiA.
but, firom to-dajy 3roa are linog in mj houso. I do not
yet know tbo conditions of your lease, but there is one
of tliem, I prosamei that you will bo willing to modify."
** Will you be so good as to tell in.e which one, madam ? "
replied the widoW| loaning slightly forward, while the fear
of some annoyance cast a shadow over her face.
** It is this abominable door that offends me," replied
the conntess ; ** this locked, worm-eaten door that scpa«
rates as. If you will allow me, I will have it opened to-
morrow, and I sincerely trust that you will walk as much
as yon dioose in my garden, whether for exercise or
amnsement. It will always give me pleasure to meet
TOO there, and if you will sometimes stop and rest in my
boose, where you will find that I live very much alooe, I
wiQ do what I can to make you like tlie neighborhood/*
Madam Thierry's countenance had brightened. The
offer of the countess gave her sincere pleasure. To see
a beautiful garden at all hours^ and be unable to enter it,
is a sort of martyrdom. Besides, she was deeply touched
by the grace of Madam d'Estrelle's invitation, and felt at
once that she was in the presence of a thoroughly kind-
hearted and amiable woman. Without losing the sweet
dignity of her manner, she thanked her with grateful cor-
diality, and they began immediately to converse upon
other subjects like old friends, so sudden and strong was
their mutual sympathy.
** Yqu live done, I understand 1 " said Madam Thierry ;
**it must be a .temporary arrangement;— you cannot
like solitude."
** Not altogether ; but I am afraid of the world, and
have no oonfidence in myself. And you, madam, do you
eiyoy society?"
** I do not dislike it," said. the widow. ** I forsook the
world for love, and forgot it ; afterwards it sought mo
oot, and I reentered it without effort and without intox-
ication. Finally, I abandoned it again, out of necessity
aad without regret. All this seems a little obscure to
yoo*
** I know that M. Thierry was very well off, that his
■randing was axcellenti that be was eoorted in society,
ANTONtA. 19
and reeeirod th« moit cnltivRtod uid boat poopk «t b»
bouse."
" But you do not Itoow about our prarious lifo ; it woi
a good deal lalkod about at tbo time ; bat that was long
ago, nnd you aro ta young."
" Wait or momcat," said tbo eonntcu. " I Otk Toor
pardon for my rorgotfulncu. I romcmbor, now ; yon
wcro woU-born?"
*' Yes, I WM ModemoiscUo do Uouil, of a good family
in Lomune. I sbould havo boon rich nlao, if my mar*
riago hod not displcoacd tny guardians. M. Tbiony, who
was tbon a poor artist trilbout namo or position, htul won
my heart, and I abnadonod my family, part4xl from nil
my friends, abjured iny rank, to become bia wife. Grad-
ually bo become celebrated, and, aflcr he hod mode a foi^
tuno of his own, I received my inhoritanco. We wer«
well reworded) tliorcfore, for our constancy, not only by
thirty years of lovo and happiness, but also by the pros-
t>erity of our old age."
"And yet, now — "
" Oh, aow it is different I I am still happy, bat in a
different way. I lutva lost my wcll-boloTed companion,
and with him all that we possessed ; but such great odd*
soIatioDS remain to me."
Hadam Thierry was about to spoak of her son, whca
a valet in livery appeared, and informed the countess that
her friend Madam des Morges was at her house.
" I will see you lo-morrow," said JuUe to Uadam
Thierry, as she rose ; " we will talk together at our eoso,
either at your bouso or mine. I am eager to know all
that concerns you, for I feci that I lore you. Pardon
me for saying this so abruptly, but it is (ho tmth I My
visitor is an old lady, and I cannot koop her wailing, but
I shall order tbo workman to be sent to you to-morrov
without fail, so that your prison moy be opened."
Uadam Thierry was enchanted with Madam d'Estrello.
Living, OS she hod done, in an atmosphere of enthusiasm,
with the man she loved, and that man an artist, she hod
retained her life and spontaneity, and oho was voiy ro*
ntontio, «• bowemod a woman who bad HcriAond kmU-
tioo to lore. Her fint impaUe would hsTO led her to
ralala what hod occnmd U> her son, with enlhasiosm ;
bat b« was out, and she took it into her Uend to make the
jnMt of the surpriM thet she bad just enjojod. Madam
Tliieny had givon up all her luxuries when they lost
tbeir fortoiw, and Julicn was often olnnned at the actual
priratioos that eha was compelled to endure.
At SAttm, Ihcjr hod had a pretty little house, snr-
noaded by a beautiful garden, whore she hod cultivated
irith ber own hands th« flowers that her husband and
■OD Bsed ■• models. Thej hod boon obliged to sell
•rerythin;. JnUen's heart wos hoarj when ho saw the
poor old lady shut op in Paris, in n small parilioa, for
which they paid lb* most moderato rent. He hnd hoped
at first that she would bo able to ei\joy tiie surrouniliag
gardens, especially os the street was obslnictcd with mi^
aonry and the molorials for new buildings ; but ttie looso
infonncd him that neither the Marquis d'EalrolIc, (heir
landkird, nor the rich Thierry, their near neighbor and
near relative, would allow them to enter llioir grounds.
" Ho has complainod bitterly about this closed door,"
■aid Madam Thierry to herself, at she thought of her son ;
** & doson times he lias been cn^r to go and bog the
eooDtoss to have it opened for my benefit, promising tliat
ho himself would never cross the door of tho pavilion. X
would not allow him to do so, fonring that wo might bo
mortifled by a refusal. How glad iko will be to know
that she has invited mo of her own accord 1 How shall I
' arrange matters so as to Burpriso hiro most agreeably? I
must give him a commission to-morrow morning, that
will keep him away while the workmen are busy."
She Ebrmod her plans, and just thon Julion rotnmed to
dinner. Tho eaDe.chair was still withont, leaning against
tho window-sill, and on the ground by tjiis chair lay
Madam d'Estrella's white parasol ; she hod let it fall, and
bad forgotten iL Madam Thierry had gone into the
kitchen to tell her servant, a great Nonnandy poasant-
giri, to bring in tho ehair. Sbo hod not noticed tho par-
uoL JnlieD, theroibre, saw these two objects without
kaowiag what had ooeorrod. Bo gneassd tho tmth in-
ANTONU. 31
tUntly ; a sndden giddinou, n riolc&t palpitation of the
heart, acixed htm, ond bis mother Tound him bo overcome,
•0 agitated, bo bewildered, tliat she was ahirmcd, thiok-
hig that Bomo misfortuDc had occurred.
"What is the matter?" aha cried, numing up to him.
"Ifolhing, mother," replied Julien, atruggling to ovci^
coma Lin emation. '■ I camo in quickly, I waa very
warm, and the cool air of the atudio garo me a chiU, ^
I am hmigiT. Come, lot us go to dinner. You can
explain at tablo the meaning of the visit yon have juat
recoired.
Ho lidcd in the chair, folded and unfolded tho paraeol,
and held it a long time in his hand ; he tried to seem in-
dtficront, but hia Iiands trembled, and ho could not moot
hia motlier'e eye.
^^JUonDieul" alio said to Itorsclf, "can it bo that his
■trange siidueBS for the Inst firiccii dny^, hia unwillingnesa
to alng, his stifled aiglis, liis ubstrnctcd mnnncr, his slccp-
lessDcsa and loss of appetite, nro because? — but ho docs
not oven kaow Iier, ho lins scarcely seen her even from a
distance. — Ali ! my poor child, cmi U ho possible ? "
Thoy went to dianor. Juliru tiucstioncd his mother
without omhnrrassmeut. She told him nbout the visit of
Iho countoas with a good deal of reserve, rcprcasiag tho
cnthueinsm which, but for the diacovory tlint alio had
just made, or tlio danger that she bcgau to apprehend,
would have made her eloqucut upon tliu subject.
Julion felt that his mother was observing him, and
was very guarded. IIo had never had a secret from her
before ; withiu tho Inst fuw dnys lie hud Imd odo, and tho
fear of alarming her taught hiin to disaimuluto.
"Madam d'Estrcllo'a conduct, " ho snid, "prove* that
•he is a kind and sensible person. She feels — rather
lolG, perhaps — the respect that she owes you. Wo ouglit
to be gratol'ul to her for her good heart. You told her; I
presume, that I have too much kuowlcdgo of the world to
consider myself included in the pcrmiiiaion gtunted you."
" That is understood, as a matter of courw, I did not
•Ton speak of yon."
** So much tho bettor 1 Site doei not know, probal^.
- II r umm— a I
ANTONIA.
thai tli«r0 it sach a person ; aody'in order that she ma/
not repenl of her kindness, it will be as weli, perhaps, if
70a nerer speak to her of your son.'*
^ Wh J shookl I hesitate to speak of him? I will do so
or not, as it maj happen ; — according to the chances of
coQTersation.''
^ You expect to see her frequentlj, tlien? to go to hef
pethaps?"
^Tbero is no sort of doubt that I shall meether in the
garden ; whether I go to her house or not, will depend
vpoQ how k>ng she continues to welcome me as she did
•«Was she amiable ?**
*^yeiT amiable and very naturaL''
^ Is she a person of mind? **
^ I do not know ; she seemed sensible/'
^ Any of the aiTcctations of a great lady ?''
** I did not see any/*
*• Is she young?"
•• Why certainly."
•• And pretty, they say ? **
** Ah, indeed 1 Have you never seen her ? '*
** Only from a distance. Tliese windows are always
dosed, and I have never happened to be in your room
when she was passing our house."
^ You know, however, that she passes here every day."
** You have just told mo so. You must think me very
eurious about beautiful ladies and their walks. I am
no longer a school-boy, my dear mother, I am a man ;
my mind has been matured by misfortunes."
^ IIos Marcel told you of any new misfortune?"
*» On the contrary, uncle Antoine has agreed to be our
aecnriiy."
^ All, at last I — And you did not tell me I "
** You were talking of something else."
** That interests you more."
**Yes, for the moment, I confess it freely. I am
really glad to think that you will be able to walk, when
joo choose, in this garden. I shall not be able to accom-
pany you sjkI give yon the support of my arm, since —
ANTOmA. 33 .
Datnrall; ^ b!iigo I am oot allowod to enter U ; but I shall
8Ce you taking four walks, and you will return with a
littlo color and a bettor appotito, I hopo."
"Appetite I It ia you who havano appotito I To^y,
Again, you Uavo eaten scarcely anything, and yon said
thnt you were hungry. Wlioro are j-ou going?
" To carry madam's parasol to tho portor of (he hotol
d'Estrelle, It would bo impolite not to return it imnx^
diatelr."
" You nro right, but lot Babel lake it. It is osolosi fer
yoD to show yourself to tho servants of the hotol. It
might make somo talk."
Hodnm Thiony took the parasol, and pat it into the
bands of tho servant.
" Not liko that," said Julicn, taking it again. *' Babol
will lomish the silk with Lor worm hands."
lie wroppcd tho parasol up carefully ia while paper,
and gave it to Babel, not without regret, but without
hcBitaiion. Ho saw plainly his mother's anxiety, and
tried to meet hor eye wiihaat embarrassment.
Babel was gone ton minutes : longer than was neccssarj
to moke the circuit of the garden, enter the court of the
hotel, and return. Finally she reappeared with the par*>
sol, and a note Irom the countess,
" Madam, you will need a parasol, since yon are going
to bo exposed (o the bud. Be so good as to use mine ; X
want to deprive yon of every oxcuso for not coming to
visit your servant,
** Jdub d'Estbeixs,"
Madam Thierry was still looking at Julicn, who, with
OS much composure as he could command, unrolled tb*
paper in which ho had wrapped the parasol. As soon,
however, as her back was lumod, he covered it with
kisses, like a ronurotie and passionate child oa he was,
although he claimed to bo a mature man. As for tlie
poor mother, doubtful and troubled, she said to herself,
sadly, that every plcMoro in this world has iu corret>
84 ANTONIA.
poodbg danger, Aod that she might have cause to regret
the amiable advances of her too CDticiDg neighbor.
The next day, the door swung upon its hinges, the kcjs
were pkoed in the hands of lladam Thierry, and, pcr-
soadcd by JuKen, she ventured into the flowering domains
of the countess. The Utter had promised herself to do
tho honors of her primroses and hyacinths in person, but
she had received a visit from Marcel Thierry who gave
her an unexpected piece of information, that changed the
current of her ideas and somewhat chilled her seal.
* The lawyer called to talk to her about her affairs.
She hastened to inform lum that she had made the nc-
quaintanoe of his aunt, of whom she spoke in the kindest
manner possible.
^^Tliis amiable lady,** she said, ** told me about her
family, her affection for her husband, and her past hap-
piness ; she was going to tell me about what she called
her present happiness, when we were iotcrriiptcd. I
imagine, on the contrary, that she is very unhappy. Did
jou not tell me that she had been obliged to sell all that
she had?'*
*^That is true,*' replied Marcel, *^but she never lost
her cheerfulness and courage. There is something in
the character of my noble aunt that every one cannot
understand, but which you, countess, can understand
perfectly. I will relate, briefly, the history of herself and
husband. My uncle, the artist, was a man with a noble
heart, genius, and a brilliant intellect, but he was care-
less, and excessively imprudent. In his youth ho was
poor ; day by day he earned, at first, the necessaries of
lire, and afterwards its luxuries. Gradually he allowed
himself to be carried away by his natural temerity ; and
as he had rather princely tastes, — that is to say, the
tastes of an artist, — he soon began to live in a very ngcce*
able but very precarious way. He loved the world, he
was admired in society ; he did not visit on foot I Ho
kept a carriage, he gave exquisite little dinners in his
S^rvres cottage, as he called it : a beautiful house crowded
iHth objects of luxuir, and works of art, that cost a for*
tone ; ho lived so splendidly, in short, that he soon in-
ANTONIA.
25
volred himself in <1cbt. His wife's forluao paid off put
oblignlioDS, and nllowcd liim to ooniiniio lliis lin^nnloua
but ngrccnblc cnrccr. Wlicn lio died, lio lind ngnin nccii-
mulatcd n Uno army of debts. My good aunt foresaw
their npproactiinrr ruin, but ^va^ unwilliog to snddun hor
liusbnnd's cnrclcss and frivolous old ago by cxprcssiDg
Iho Icnst anxiety about Iho Aituro of hor eod. ' Aly son
ia n ecusiblo young innu,' sho snii] ; ' lio is studying liia
nrt will) cnlliusinsm, and lins lu much tnlcnt as his fnlhcr.
He will bo poor, nud will make his forliinc. Ho will
meet lliQ triula that his father encountered with honor
and courage, nnd will aclnovo the success Hint ho achieved ;
knowing him as I do, I cannot fear (hat ho will over ny
pronch mo for having trusted in his good heart.' Her
predictions were all fulfilled. When bis fnlber died,
Julicn Thierry discovered that ho had led bim noihinff
excepting debts ; ho set bravely to work to pay tbcm
off honorably, and, far from complaining, assured liia
mother that slio had dono well in novor contrndiciing tho
best of fathers. For my part, I do not ngrco wiili him,
I confess. Tho best of Jntlicrs is ho who sacrificcB his
tastes and pleasures for iba bcnclit of (hose who are to
■urrivo him. My nncle, iho painter, was n great man;
I ought ralhcr to say ix great child. Genius is it very
bcoutiful gin ; but devotion to thoso you love is still more
nobis, and (I shall bavo to say it in a whisper) it sccma
to mo that tho widow ond son of my undo aro much
greater than ho. What is your opinion, madam?"
Tho countess bad listened to Mnrccl very attcntiroly,
bat with a drcnmy expression.
" I ngrco with you, Klonsicur Thierry," she answered,
" nnd I ndmiro thoso pcoplo with nil my heart,"
" But it Boems to mc," replied Marcel, " tliol my etoiy
has mado you molancboly."
" Tcrhapa so ; it has given me somolhing to think
about : I nm \tirj much struck, do you know, by
tho exumplo that fa given by cortain Uvoal Mndom
Thierry, for iostanco, is like myself, — n widow, and
rained ; and yet, even under these circumstnnces, she it
bep^, while I un ikr otberwiae. She is prond to pay
the &btt of a hntbAiid whom she tcaderljr loved ; — aod
X^ But I vill not rofer ogain to ibo confosBioD that
Mcaped nw in joar prcscnco jesterixy. There ii onlj
ooe greet questioD Ihat I would like to ssk jrou. Ilor
son, — thii excellent ton of the worthr widow, — where
uke?"
**In Pari*, mAdain, where he is hard at work; his
iMdares, ercn now, are almost equal to liis father's, and
be ia rapidljr freeing hiniMlf from hii cmbarrasimeiila.
' He baa infloential (ineitd* who are iaterestod in Iiim, and
wbo woold avist him nuiro effectual); if ho were lew ecni-
pglom and leM proud ; but with a litilo lime he wilt maico
• Ibrtnae in hb turn, He has reduced hia debts to a rcry
.' trifling mm, and nncle Aatoine, — since he no longer
rani any risk in doing bo,— has agreed to bocomo his
•ecurity."
"This rich node, tiion, is as timid and economical as
ibo marquis, my fulbcr-in-law,"
" No, madam ; his soIIisIidcu is very dificrcnt from thnt
of the marquis, but it would toko mo loo lon^ to tell you
•bont it now. This is my hour for being at court."
" Ah, yes, UoDsieur Thierry, another time. Hasten
to fulfil your duties. Hero are the deeds, ready signed ;
retnm sood."
" Aj soon OS your affairs require it, mndom ; rely upon
my panctuality."
" Do not be so ceremonious. Come williout regard (o
btisineas, wbcnoror you have time. I owe you a great
deal, Blonsienr Thierry. You havo not only given Die a
clear idea about my situation, which it was very necessary
ibr mo to have, —yon have giren me good odvice also,
end hare not urged mo to pursue a dishonorable course
ia order to scrre my interests. I feel that you have some
csaeem for ma, — a little friendship, periiaps, — and I
lliank you with all my heart."
The countess had a way of saying these, simple things,
that made them irresistible. Chaste and dignified in all
Imt actions and in all her words, there was, norcrthelesa,
» Mft of agitetioB and tenderness in her manner that
■eitiil ■ hnait Inn fnll. — a heart that ia aeeking to plaoa
ANTONIA. 2<j
worthily ita overfloiviDg affections. Tlio baronoM would
ccrtainlj have considered her loo affcctionato and too
grnleful to this iDsignificant lawyer, only loo highly hon-
ored in being allowed to serra her. Slie would have (old
herthftt it is oot right (o Bpoil people of this deacriptioD,
by letting them mo that they are necessary to yon.
Julie, sun of herself, and always modest and humble,
was not at all afraid of degrading her friendship by be-
stowing it upon an honest and intelligent man. An inteii-
sible but rapid reaction was going on within her, as we
have already seen, against the decrees and customs of the
world in which she hod hitherto lived.
" What an amiable woman I " Marcel Tliicrry said to
himself, as he left her ; " the devil take me, if I were not
a lawyer, husband of the best woman in tlio world, and
father of a grown lad, — cxccllont guarantees for tliA
solidity of a man's character, — I should bo in love with
. this coon tcss ! There is no doubt about it, — madly in
lore 1 I will tell my wife so this evening ; slio wilt laugh
heartily at the idea."
** How was it," thought Madam d'Eetrollo, at this mo-
ment, " that I should havo foikd lo ask M. Thierry one
thing, which it is important for me to know? I tliou^iht
of it, and then forgot it. I shall have to inquire. If this
young Tliicrry is living witli his mother, it will not bo
proper for him to take his walks in my garden. ARer
• all, he may ho a mere boy. Did Tliiorry say that he
was a young man ? His father, was very old I Did he
say that ho was so old? I really cannot remember.
Well, my people will know. Servants know ororything."
She rang.
" Camillo," she said to her femma tZa ehambrt, " has
Madam Tliierry, —the lady who lives in the old pavilion
at the foot of the garden, and a very worthy person, —
has she any children? I was talking to hoe yutarday,
but I forgot to ask her."
" She has one soA," replied Camille.
"How old, about?"
38 ANTONIA.
**I7o, mttdmn."
**'Wber«doca bfllivo?"
** In the pavilioD, with his motUer."
** Is lie WGll-bcbiiTcd ? What u said of him ? "
** lie ia TC17 vell-bchnTcd, madam. Erery ono apcobs
well of tbcM people. They ore rcry poor, but they pay
aU their debts, atid pay promptly. Moreover, ihoy nro
not aivpieious or mean. One would really think that
Ibey were welt-bom."
Cvnilie was not seeking to flatter her mislross by
■peaking tbus. She, also, bad pntoasioDS to good birth,
amd a reretse of fortune. She cbiimed to have bad
•Idermen among her aaccstora.
"JAm Dint/ Camillo, birth is nolbing," said the
eoantcss, who wu oden made impatient by ilio airs of
ber chambcrmoid.
** FardoD mc, madam," replied CamiUe, ofl*eQdod, " I
thoagbt it was everything."
"Just as yon please, my dear. Go and bring mo my
gray parasol. People novadays, — one and oil of them,
— have so many afibclations," ihonglit Tklailam d'EstrclIc,
** tbat they will di»;^t mo with all prejudices, and maka
me admire Jean Jnc<iucs Rousseau more than is rea-
sonable. Kcally I luTO already beg:un to ask myself
wbelber wo nristocrats do not belong to the past, and
vbelber our throadbora prctoiuioDs are not beginning lo
be f;ood for nothing, except to amuse our valets."
She took her gray parasol with a feeling of vague an-
Dojsnee, and sot down in her drawing-room, open to the
April sun ; she must no longer walk, she said lo herself,
in Iba direction of iho pavilion, and perhaps ought to
give up entirely going into her garden.
Just at this moment who slionld appear but Madam
Tbieny. Not meeting tbo countess, as she oxpocled, slio
bad ventnrcd to come lo bcr house, in order to express
ber gratitude. Madame d'Estrelle received her wilb
great poUteaess ; but the widow was loo penetrating not
to &el a eertoin eoldness in her manner, and she was
■euvely aeated when she thanked her, and arose to go.
•* Mist yw fo ao aooD 7 " mM the connlMs ; " you find
ANTONIA. ag
me dull, I ana sura, and I ackooivledge lliat I fed a litlla
otnbarrasscd witli yon lo-dn/. 'ilicro is Minciliing weigh-
ing upon mj mind tliat Iroublca mo. Coran, I will toll
70U at onco wliiLt it is, nad lot us liavo dono with it for-
OTCj;! you will pardon mo. When I spoko to 70a
ycatorday I did not know ibnt you hod a Bon, — a
V017 oxcolloat young man, I am told, — living with
' you^"
"Lot mo My tho rest, countow, you are ofraid— "
" Oh, mon DUy, I I am arrnid pooplo will talk, that ia
oil. I am yonng, alono in tho world, boariaj; tho luuno
of a family who received mo with rogrot, — I learned it
only too Inic, — and wiko blnnio mo for l>oing unwilling
to pass my widowhood in a convent."
" I know it, madam ; my nopliow, Harcel, has told mo
your hialoTy. I am as anxious to guard your rcpnlation
as you can be, and I will not allow your goodness (o lead
you too far. You must not como to tho pavilion again
wliilo I am living there, and I must giro up walking in
your garden, and visiting you. This is all that I mod
say. It is not noccssary to add that my son novor
drenmo<1, for a single moment, of considoring himself
included in tho pormisaion you so graciously granted mo
yesterday."
" Then it ia all right," cried tho countess ; " tho latter
point is all that is nccossaTy. I thank you for your deli*
cacy iu excusing mo from returning your visits, but I
shall agreo to nothing more. You must walk in my gar-
den, OS wo orrnnged, and you must visit mo."
"I should bo wiser, i)erhnps, to refuse your kiadnoiB."
" No, no," replied Julio, gnyly i " you must come, ^Ji
insist upon it I If you refuse, I shall havo to go in
■esreh of you, and (np at your window again, and that
will bo vcTy compromising. Now we will see," sho
addod,laughing, " whether you want mo to bo slandered
for your soke. I warn you (hot I am capable of any-
thing."
lladam lliiorry could not resist the charm of hor gen-
eious simplicity. She yielded, but not without prora-
isiDg beiwdf, secretly, that she would fly to tba other end
go ANTOHIA-
tt Rmi, if JnliflD'a pauion proved to bo uTthiDg mon
Ihui a dreun of her maUmal im&giDntion.
" Now," Bud the conntoM, " let dh regalato at onco
tbe eooditioiu opon which we ore to he neighhors, so B4
. to do awmjr with ell fear of ecaodal. The Mrilion bu
obIt (am windows oTerlookiog mj gardea. Two below,
^1 do not koow the promises—"
**Tbe two wiadows oa the groaod-floor aro in m;
•on** stitdio and mjr drawing-room. Wo aro nlwajrs
tbere ; b«t there is a fnuoe in the lower soah of the win-
dows caatainins four panes of gronnd-glasi, and we onljr
■dnut tbe air ihrongh tbe upper panes, which are often
opea at this soascw."
*'Tbeii joa eanoot see into my gronnds, after all!
Testerdaj, bowerer, tbo groand^lass panes were lifted ;
tbe window was half open."
" It is tme, madam, ono of tbo panes was broken, as
JOQ may haTO noticed."
"Ko, I do not see well, and for that reason I seldom
obsem closely."
"I opened the window yesterday, ns an cxccplional
thing ; early this morning it wns repaired, and fastened as
nnal. It would inicrforo seriously with ray son's paint-
ing to admit the light from below ; and, in fact, ho hangs
a enrtaia of green linen before the ground-glass panes, to
exelude it more effectually. lie would have to mount
npoa a diair, therefore, for the express purpose, ia order
lo look into yonr garden, and as my son is a serious man,
and not at aU an awkward school-boy — "
" Eooagh, enough I I am perfectly satisfied about tbe
(nMutd^oor. Tbe windows above — "
**Ai« ia my dkamber. My son's room is upon tbe
atreot.''
** And doea be DOTor go into your room? Will you
prouuse me that no one in my house shidl ever see a
Bsan at your windows } "
** Tbat has norer b^penad, and never shall happen, I
pvomiseTOQ:.'*
** And be will never come to the door opening into the
pfdsar Yoa will tell bim to b« guarded? "
ANTONIA.
3»
" Be pbrfedljr at case upon that poiqf, madaiw. M7
SOD is a man of lionor."
" I do not doubt it. Warn liim not to call mioA in
quest ioD, Aad qov Bay do mora about it ; (hat ia to tKf^
do not talk about me aoy longer ; to forbid you to ipeak
of him would bo too cruel. 1 know that lie is your prido
aud happiness, aud I coDgratulale 70a npou having so
good a BOD."
Madam Tliiorry had prnmiscd licreclf that slio would
not say a word about Julicu, but it was impossible for
her to keep lior word. Bciiccnt at first, sho soon began
to express her idolatry for tliia worahippcd eon, bo woll-
bcloved, aud so well dcscrviag lier aSbction, The
countess listened (o iho cDumcralioD of the talcats and
virtues of the young artist wit bout any misplaced delicacy.
She became a little melancholy, however, when the idea
occurred to her, that she, pcrhnps, would nerer have any
children to occupy her joutli and console her old age.
Uadam Thierry diviued her thoughts, and spoko of somiy
tkiogielBe.
And what was Juliou doing while they were talking
about him in thoijillo summer drawing-room of the hotel
d'Estrello? He was at work, or pretending to bo at
work. IIo paused frequently ; thought it too iiot and
then too cold, and trembled nt lUo least sound. IIo said
to himself that the countess might, by chance, bo uttering
his name at tliat very momonl, that she was perhaps osk-
iug questions about him, out of politeness, nod without
liHtcning to the raply. Finally ho wont to the window,
Tho lotrcr Bosh was really fastened, and covered with n
piece of green linen, but iu this linen tliora wa« an
mipereeptiblo flaw, in the ground-gloss tlicro mu a
transparent Tein> nnd through this perfidious fissure,
skilfully discOTcred and skilfully concealed, ho saw
Madam d'Estrello every day woudoring amid the grovos
of her garden, and strolling along tho walk whicli, from
the pavilion, was plainly vistbto. IIo know to Iho mo-
ment at what hours she usually walked, and if, for any
reason, she made her appearanco unexpectedly, the mya*
lerious prosentiments, the thrilling inhutiona that beltmg
J9 ANTONIA,
vHj to Ion, wd »boT« kU to a flnt love, iranwd him of
bar •pproaeh. At tadi monMnU ha hod b tbonsuid ox-
eOMS, cacfa man ingonions than ihs but, for aToiding hU
SMMber's TigDant oyo, and contomplating Lia beautiful
ti^hHir ; wbao eTWTthing alw failed h« woDt up stain,
ptftiHJTTg that be wanted aomethiog in hia room, and
goiaf ioetead to hia mother** room, — she remaining bo-
low,^gaied upon her through the blinde. Inawoid, be
had admd Julie for the laat flUeen dani and Jnlio did
not know that he had over aeen her ; and Uadam Thierrjr
waa deceiving bor iritboat knowing it, when she declared
tfcat her aon eoold not lee her garden from hit itudio, and
»nwt looked from the windows of ber chamber.
JoUan waa remarltablj aenuble in moat reBpods, and
thtre waa aomething in the sudden passion that bad token
peaaeaaion of him that seemed even to himself almost
insane, or at least inexplicable ; but every effect boa ila
canae, and it is our duty to seek the causo of bis love,
'0 admit that any human experience is nltogotber
inmrabable
It was a
it was a frcqnent custom with Marcel Thierry to spend
part of the evening, — aometimes alone, and sometimes
accompanied by bis wife, — with his aunt. Julien and
ba loved each other tenderly, and, although thoy oflcn
dtaogreed, Marcel considering Julicn loo romantic, and
JoUmi considering Marcel loo practical, ibcy would have
died for each other. The lawyer liked to talk about hie
proAssioD, in which ho was rapidly gaining distinction.
Ila amused Jnlicn by giving him a description of his
▼arioos clients. "There are some of my clients," ho
■aid, "whom I find it more honorable than profitable to
•erra, and these are precisely the ones whom I esteem
Iba moat highly." The Countess d'Estrello he placed first
ia rank among these clients who brought him no law-
aoits, bat whose society he found agreeable or advan-
tageooa. Ha spoko of Madam d'Estraile very otiou, and
in anihnsiastie terms, ^ he reforrod with the utmost con*
tampt to tlie unworthy husband of this beautiful widow,
ha Moooncad bitterly the inhomaa avarice of his family,
1 the hi^Mst admiration fbr Julie's tweet and
ANTONtA.
33
noblo character, and involuDtarily referred wa often to her
beauty and grace, that Julico felt curious to see her. As
Boon OB his wish was cratified, ho fell in love ; he majr
bavo loTcd her unconscioiuily oven before this.
Julieo had never loved. Ho bad lived simplf and
honorably \ be had jiut oxpcricnccd a great sorrov, and
was in all tlie plenitude of his physicnl and moral devcl-
opmoQt ; his sensibility was stimulatod by the couragooos
elTorts that ho had made, by tho lifo ha was leading with
his mother, — a life made up of a continual cxcliango of
tcndemcM between the two, — and by a disposition to
enihosiasm Ibat ho hod acquired in bis long intercourso
with an colliusioslic father. Since his father's death hs
hod lived like a hermit ; denying himself every omusa^
mcnt, and working desperately to preserve the honor of
his name, and save bis mother from distress. It was
absolutely necessary that oil these ropreesod emotions
shoald find a vent ; bis generous heart was full to ove^
flowing.
Wo shall say no moro about it ; we have spent too
much time olnady in expUining an experience which
people call impossible, and see every day ; — on obstinate,
violont, ungovernable passion for an object that is known
to be unattainable. Loug boforo this, la Fontaine had
written those sensible lines, which have over since been
proverbial I
II.
WniLE the eounleas vu eonrcraiii^ with Madam
Tkierrr, Mid whilo Julion waa holding communion
with hiinaelr, Mnrcol, not far oF, yftu talking with liis
tmclo, Antoioe Thionj, tho old bncholor, tho ox-sbip-
owner, — tho weahhj man of tho family.
Kind rcwlor, — u it wa« Iho fashion for autliora to say
•t tbA limo when onr ttoiy occurrod, —bo m good as to
faQow us to (ho tob Blomot. Loavo tho hotel d'EalrolIo in
tbo nio do Bahylono, walk for about flro minulcs around
tb« wall of the garden, pass before tlia pavilion Louia
Xni., follow tho wall of another t^anlcn larger than that
of Uodom d'EsiroDo, running along nuothcr ronti hoiilorcd
with grcon turf, — hut mudd/ nnd Grokon up in the middio,
is prcparatioQ for thoconiiuiiingof tiiocity Htraoi, — turn
to your kft and cnior onotlicr street bordorod with grcun.
Yoahavo now tamed tho comer of the nie Blomet, and
•r« in front of a largo houio in the siylo of Louis XIV,
This is the old hotel Mclcy, now owned noil occupied by
M> Antoino Tliiony. If tl. Thierry would have allowed
OS to cross his immonBo enclosure, wo could have gone
from Julion's bouse straight across tho nurseries of tiie
garden to tho back of tho hotel> llut undo Antoino likes
to bo master of his dominions, and allows no privilogca
even to the widow and son ofhisbrotlior. Mareol, tlicro-
fttr*, when be left tho countess, took tho half-city, lialf-
coantty walk that we havo described, and finally entered
the cabinet of the rich man, on old boudoir, crowded
with shelves and etagires oovorcd with sacks of gmin,
qwcimens of fmit moulded in wax, and bnskots filled
with horticnlttiral tools and instruments.
This eabiDOt is tho clioson rotroat of tlio proprietor.
To get to it yon must cross long galleries and immense
•aIoods, loMed with giMings and projCotiag ornaments,
blackened by neglect and humidity. The windows are
•Iwaya doid, tbe abntler* ore &tst«aed ; the rich moa
AirrostA. 35
possos no timo in ttioso mn^ificoiit nparttncnts, Uo ontor*
tftiiu DO company, gives noithor balls nor dinnor-jxuliot,
lores no ODc, disInisEs every one. All hia tendcrncu
ho boMows upon raro flowers and osollc ircea ; ho fools an
cslccni, also, for fniit-lrcee, nod moditatos incoasontly
upoo iho pruning and grafting of hiti siilijecta. IIo over*
sees and directs in person a scoro of gnnlcnora ; jMiys
Ihcm well, and protects Ihoir families. NoTor talk to
him al>out taking an iuiercst in people who do not serve
bis caprices or flatter his runitjr.
It was clianco thnt first inspired Iiim with his passion
for gnnlcning. One of the mcrcbnnt-vcssels tnulin j upon
his cnpital, and for his profit, witli distant parts of tlio world,
brought him avorioly of seeds from China, ipecimona of
which he allowed carelessly to fall into n vase filled with
oarth. The seeds germinnlod, a plant grew and put forth
beautiful flowors. The ship-otrnor, who luul not nntiei*
patcd this result, and who never in his life hod looked at
a flower, took but litllo iuterest, nt first, in tho uiatter.
But n botanist happened to coll at hu house (n second
chance), and when Uiis connoisseur saw the precious
plant, he was enraptured, and declared that it was ab>»>
lutely Dcw, and unknown in science.
The lifo of M. Autoine was determined by this di^
eovcry. IIo had alwnys.disilaincd flowers : bo will never,
perhaps, underslnnd tiiom, for he is totally without nr*
tistio feeling I but his vauity, starving from tho lock of
nourishment, sciicd upon this windfall ; ho devoted liim<
self to horticulture because it was his only way of boeom-
ing famous.
M. Antoino has a brother who paints flowors, who io-
terprots them, cherishes them, gives them life. This
brother is admired ; a slight sketch from hit hand is
priced more highly than oil the wealth of hia older brother. .
Tho older brother knows this, and is joalons of liii ro-
nown. Ho cannot hear art spoken of witliont shmgging
his shoulders. IIo thinks tlio world foolish and ut^uat to
bo amused by such trifloc, iustend of admiring tlto foroo
of character of s man who has hod the ability to nia
millioDS by his own exertions. Ho is sad, autious. But
2/i AJfTOJf/A.
mtUmij an thii i> changed : li« will gain notorietf in
U> toni. Tbo fiowen that hia brolhor pointa upon con-
vaa ba will prodoco, — bo will moke Uiom grow ont of
the aaith ; not common flowers, that every one knows and
caa name as aooa as tfaejr sea thorn ; his flowerffshall be
nriiiea, — plants bronght from the fonr quarters of the
gjobe, — ^anla that botanists will havo to rack their
braiaa to define, classify, and christen. The most boau-
tifid of all shall bear his name, ^ his own name I He
ban been opon tha p<»nt of giving it to acTeral of his fa*
Torilaa, bat be is in no baste, for arerv jear his ooUoction
is anrfAed bj soine wonder brought from afar. He can
aSml to wait, and be is waiting now for a certain lilv to
bloom, that promises to surpass all the others ; and to
wbidi, if bis ezpoctations are fulfiUcd, he intends giving,
in addjtioa to its generic name, the specific name ^
Jatoaia Thierrii.
He baa time enough, and to sparo ; for nude Antoinc,
although sixty-five years old, is still hardy and robust.
Ha is a short man, thin, and with quite a handsome face ;'
ha would be good-4ookiag, but his hands, hardened by
eoostant dabbling in the earth, his skin tanned by con-
atant exposure to the wind, his neglected hair, dusty
dothes, and back bent by physical labor, make him to-
aemblo a peasant. His manners are rude, his prejudices
are obstiaato, he has a hard, practical, and fault-Qnding
mind, and uses incorrect, peremptory, and dogmatical
language ; so that, in the heart of Paris, and in a palace
of which he is the careless and abstracted master, he pre-
aeats the living image of a rustic boor. He never r».
ceivad any edaeation ; and, in regard to the refinements
* and al^ucias of life, has remained absolutely stupid.
Adt ruennce to art or philoeophy makes him almost
fanoos. He has really a great de^ of intellect, but it
is axdnuvely eoncontiatod upon practical calculations.
Hence it is that he has grown rich j henoa it is that he
haa beeoma a horticultural berniit.
Ifaroel salatad his uncle abruptly, and without the slighu
•at defitranoa. He knows that courtesy will be thrown
•w^ vpOB nnde *"'"■"« ; that i( is only by struggling
ANTONIA. 3]P
wl(h him obstinately and mdelf, If nocoiurTt that tha
•z-ship-owDer can b« nuide to yiold in anTthing wba^
ever. He knows that liia flnt impulw ia atwa/i to aajr
no, that no very probably will be his final aoiwer, and
that, to wring rrom him one poor affinnotire ont of a
haodrod nogativca, ho must be prepared to fight wilhont
&intiDg. Marcel is WDll4empered (it is a family trait),
and his professional bnbils of contooiion, and, above all,
his habit of flgUtiog with hit undo, make him find a sort
of rude enjoyment in this occupation, by which an artiat
would bo instantly repelled.
*' Look hero 1 ho opened the coorersatioa by my
ingj "I hnvo brought you something to sign."
" I shall sign nothing ; my word is enongh."
"Yes, for those who know you."
"EvciT' one knows me."
"Almost every one; but I hare got idiots to deal
with. Come — sign, sign I"
"Ko, you might as well talk to a post! &fy word ia
as good as gold ; so much the worse for thoio who doabt
it,"
"Then you want to see the house atS^vresBoId? Your
brolhor's creditor will be delighted, no doubt, bat h«
will have good cause, from this time, to donbt my
word."
" It seems that you hare a bad ropntotton."
" Apparently."
" You don't seem to mind it much 1 "
" What would you have ? If I talk in a different way,
you won't sign ; I want to make you sign."
" Ah, you want it — and why?"
"Because I wont to escapo the annoyance and fa>*
tigue of returning to Sevres, and waiting until tho people '
there make np thoir minds to come and see yon \ not to
spook of the deraDgement that this will be to my busi-
ness. Sending this paper by my clerk will relieve all
difficulties, and save me trouble and expense. Do yoa
undersUnd that?"
" You make mo do whatoTer yoa choose," replied the
ship-owner, taking his pen. Ha dipped it Ihroa or four
. jg ANTONZA.
tinM into the ink withont dccidiDg, rood and nrend
Um deed innking bim rcsponBiblo for six tliousand livrca
in behalf of bia bnlhen estate, — looked at Marcel) to
Ma whether ho woa anxiou or impalieat, and, at iho
aig^t of hii imputible face, rcaonoccd, with regret, the
bopa of patting him into a pnuion. Finnllj, he signed
Um deed, and threw it into hia face, Bajfiog wiib an ill-
■•hired longb, —
" Go, beggar I Too nerer enter mj house exeept to
get iomclbiog oat of mo. Yon might hnro been their
•oenrilj jromiwlf, ^yoa ant rich enough."
** If X wore, tho olTair woiild hare been aettlod long ago ;
joamajr be smnof thoL I havo not jret paid off my own
obligotioDS, and con no longer hide from Jnlicn that wlrnl
I have done for him lias embarrassed me. IIo is troubled
•boat it, hi« mother is grieved—"
"Oh! his mother, — liis motlier, — "said the rich
mao, with an expression of prafouod aversion.
" Ever/ one knows (hat you dislike her, nod sho will
Dover ask any favors from jou, — jou need not bo afraid';
bat, with your pcrmisaion, I love my aunt, and Julicn
vonhipe her, lie wilt pay the whole debt bimsclf before
two years oro passed ; if necessary, I will liclp him, and
joa, I flatter myself, will have notlibg to disburso."
" I do not flatter myself with anything of the kind.
IIoweTor, I will render them ibis Mrviee, — but it shall
bo the last."
" And the flrtt also, my dear uncle."
Uarcel, by this time, had folded the deed and put !t
in his podcot ; leaning bit elbow upon the table, and look-
ing his onde straight in the face, lie added, —
" Do yon know, my good uncle, that you would have
been a groat bruto if yon had allowed your brother's
eMotry-hooM to be sold ? "
** Ah I tliat is what yon are coming to," cried M. An-
toiao, rising, and strikbg tho table a blow that would havo
docM erodit to'the fist of a peasant. " Yoa want me to
■paod mj moavj, gained by the sweat of my brow, in
paying the debts oif a speDdthrift ? When was it necessary
far aitiili to han howM of Ibeir own, to All them with
•>i, I
ANTONIA.
39
vain baubloa moro prociotis than tho cjos in thoir hoods ; to
havo ganlcns ^vilh bridp^cn nnd ttin*ctii| when (hey cannot
raiso a einprlo lettuce? What is it to me, ahhotif^h my
brother's folly is sold, an(l although his widow con no
longer havo first*rato cooks in her kitchen, and great
lords at her table? They were very well pleased, no
doubt, when they were entertaining counts and mar-
(guesses, and when madamo could say, * My house, my
people, my servants I ' I knew very well, for my port,
what such extravagance would lead to. And look at
them now, crying out for tho help of tho old rat, who,
despising tho world, disdaining luxury, and devoting him-,
self to useful works, lives in his comer, liko a wise
man and a philosopher. Tliey bow tho head, they hold
out tho paw, and ho who would not give out of pity,
— *such people do not deserve pity, — ho gives out of
pride. It is in this way that ho revenges himself. Go I
repeat that to your aunt, tho beautiful princess in dis-
tress I Your brute of an uncle gives you this eonunis-
sion. — Off with you, dog of a lawyer I what do you mean
by trying to staro me out of countonanco ? "
In fact. Marcel had fixed his small, gray, brilliant eyes
upon his uucle's face, and was studying it as if ho would
have liked to read bis very soul.
*^ Bah I " ho said, risiug suddenly ; ^* you aro a very hard
man, a great brute, I repeat ; but you are not so wicked
as you pretend I You havo some cause for hating your
sister-in-law that no one knows anything about, and
which you do not acknowledgo, perhaps, to yourself.
Now I intend to find out your secret, my dear uncle, you
may bo sure of that, for I shall make a special business
of it ; and when I set about a thing I am liko you, ^ I
never give it up."
Marcel continued to watch tho rich man as ho spoke,
and ho noticed a remarkablo change in his expression.
Tho coarse flush that had covered his face, burnt by tho
sun of tho early spring, was succeeded by a sudden pale-
ness. His lips trembled, ho pullod his hat over his black|
bushy brows, and, turning his back upon his nephoW|
went into tho garden wit£>at a word.
¥^
ANTONIA.
Otfdens imiUUingUieqrlvaa stjrle of Trianon, with arti-
ficial lodu, fanUstao edifices, and miniatiire cows of coarse
earthenware, IpDig on the green grass, were the rage at
thai timey bat H. Antoine's was not of this description.
Nor was it, like that of the hotel d'Estrelle, an undulating
ktwn, with winding walks, groves regiUarlj planted, and
broken odnmns reflected in limpid pools ; one of the first
p i c tui ee qu e attempts in the style of the modem English
garden. Neither did it diqplaj the old-fashioned square
beds and long regular borders pf the time of Louis XIV.
The ground was cut up and intersected according to the
taste of IL Antoine. Ererjwhcre you beheld baskets,
hearts, stars, triangles, orals, shields, trifoils, surrounded
with green borders and with a labyrinth of little paths.
Flowers of every variety, ^ all beautiful or curious, —
^ttersd in these strange beds, but they seemed to have
lost all their natural grace. Imprisoned under bulrush
cages, brass net^wire, reed parasols ; protected and 8up«
ported by props and stays of every description, preserving
them from the stains of the earth, heat of the sun, and
rode caresses of the wind, they no longer looked like
themselves. Uis rose-bushes, cut and pruned every hour,
were so clean and shining that they looked artificial.
His peonies were as large and round as the tufts on a
grenadier^s cap, and his tulips glittered in the sun like
tin-foil. Around the flower-ffarden stretched immense
^Binrseries, poorly clad with foliage, and as melancholy as
rows of pickets. This spectacle delighted the ^je^ of the
borticnUorist, and dissipated his melancholy.
There was onlj one agreeable walk in this immense
eodosure, and that was in the comer of the garden next
the pavilion occupied bj Madam Thierry. There, for the
last twenty years, M. Antoine had acclimated omamental
and ezotiQ trees. These trees were already well grown,
and east a fine shade ; but, as they no longer required
careful and minute attention, he had ceased to feel the
least interest in them, and greatly preferred the seed of a
pioe-lree or a newly-sprouted acacia.
Hie greenhouse was marvellously beautiful, and it was
thare tiMl he hastened to bury the bitter memories that
^1. /
ANTON I A. .41
Marcel had awakened. Ho walked through the depart-
^ ment of his favorite plants, — lilies, ^ and, aAer assuring
himself that those in hloom were in good condition, he
• paused before a little china vase, where an unknown bulb
' was beginning to put forth slender shoots of a dark and
brilliant green.
'' What wiU it bo like ? " he thought ; «« wiU it make
an epoch in the history of horticulture, like so manj
plants that owe their renown to me? It is a long time
since I have produced anvthing now in my establishment,
and it seems to mo that I am no longer talked about as
much as I ought to be."
Marcel, in the meanwhile, went awaj absorbed in
thought. There was one curious feature in the avarice
of M. Antoine, and thb was that he was not avaricious.
He did not hoard up his money ; ho did not practise
usury, and had never done so : ho denied himself nothing
that he took a fancy to, and sometimes, out of vanity, ho
did good. How was it that he had refused to purchase
the property of his defunct broUier for his nephew ? This
act of liberality would have caused him to be talked about
more widely, and with more admiration, than the future
AnUmia Thierriu Vfhy had he allowed such a fine op-
portunity of gaining notoriety to escape him? This point
Marcel sought in vain to explain. He knew that the ship-
owner had always been jealous of his brother ; jealous,
not of his talent, — for that he despised,^ but of his
celebrity, and the favor with which he was received in the
fashionable world. But surely this jealousy must have
died with the old Andr6. Why should his widow and son
reap the sad inheritance?
A thought occurred to Marcel : he turned back, followed
M. Antoine to the greenhouse, and, interrupting his hor-
ticultural reveries, said, in a cheerful tone, —
** By the way, uncle, do yon want to purchase the
pavilion of the hotel d'Estrelle? "
** Imbecile I If the pavilion is for sale, why didn't
you tell me?''
** I forgot it. Well then, how much will you give fi>r
it?"
43 ANTONIA.
M now madi it it worth 7 ^
^ I hare told yoa already. To tho Couotoss d'EstrollOi
wlio has just accepted the property, it is worth ten
thooMuid francs ; as you are anxious to get it, aud are
in waut of it, it is worth douhle that to you. It remains
to be seen whether the countess will not ask yoa three
times as mocb.^
**0f coarse I That is tho way with your great
ladies I Th^ are sharper and meaner than the plebeians
they demise.
**T1m Countess d'Estrelle despises no one."
**It is fSdse! she is just as great a fool as any of
tbenu She has lived at the hotel d'Estrelle four years,
and, daring aU that time, although there is only a wall
b e t w e en as, has nerer had the curiosi^ to come and see
Biy garden."
** Perhaps she don't know anything about rare plants."
^ Say, rather, that she would consider herself disgraced
if she set foot in the house of a plebeian."
^Ah! You want a young woman in mourning to
compromise herself by coming to walk in your gai^en,
—a bachelor of your ago."
** My age I Are you joking? How could a man of
vaj age be talked about?"
** There is no knowing I Yon were a volcano at
ooe time."
^ I ! What are yoa talking about, animal? "
**Yoa will never make me believe that you have
never been in love*"
** What do you say that for? Surely I have never
been in love. I'm not such a fool."
^That is all false. Yon may call yourself a fool as
much as yoa choose, hot you have been in love, at least
once 1 utaj it if yoa can," Marcel added, as he saw
that the horticoltarist was again becoming pale and
agitated.
^ Have done with this nonsense f" replied uncle An-
totae, stamping on the sround with vexation. ** You are
tho lawyer of Madam d'Estrelle ; are you commissioned
loaeatiiepaviUoa?"
ANTONIA. 43
** No, but I Imvo a right to oflTor it I *HoMr much will
you ffivo for it?"
** Not a sou I Take yourself olT, oud Icavo mo in
peace."
** I am at liberty, then, to offer it to another pur-
chaser?"
"What other?"
" There has been no applicant as yet. I havo no taste
for trickery, and will not betray your interests ; but you
know, as well as I do, that they are building up the stroeti
and that, this evening or to-morrow moroing, a dosdn
would-be purchasers may be quarrelling over the pavilioii.'*^
" If Madam d'EstreUe chooses to enter into negotia-
tions with me ^"
" You want to pay her a visit? That can easily be
arranged."
"She will receive a visit from me?" said M. An*
toine, his eyes lighting up for an instant.
** Wliy not?" said Marcel.
"Ah, yes! she will grant me an interview in her
court, or, at the most, in her ante-chamber ; — she will
stand up between two doors and receive me, as she would
a dog, — or a lawyer I "
" You think a great deal of good manners, then ; you, who
never take your hat off betore any one, no matter who.
But set your heart at rest. Madam d'Estrclle is as polite
to deserving people of our class, as to the greatest aristo-
crats. The proof of this is, that she is on the best terms
with my aunt Thierry ; they are ahready almost friends."
"Ah! there is nothing strange in that| — your aunt
is noble. The nobles, — bah! they understand each
other like thieves in a fair."
^^ Saprislil uncle, What have you now against your
sister-in-law ? "
" I have this against her ^ that I detest her I "
"I see that; but why?"
" Because she is noble. Don't talk to me abont the
nobility. They havo no hearts, and they are all un*
grateful I "
** You were in love with her, then I "
44
ANTONIA.
IL Antoine was completelj orereome by ibis direct
qoetCkm. Ho grew first pale, and then pnrplo, with rage ;
ks swore, polled bis bair, and cried furiooslj, —
**8be told yoa so^sbe pretends, sbo dares relate — "
^ Notbing at all* I bare nerer been able to make bor
■aja word about yon ; but I bare bad mj suspicions all
along, ^ and now jou acknowledge tbe tmtb. Tell me
an aboot it, ande, it will be wortb joar wbile, for tbe
confession will reliere yon ; at least, once in jour life, jou
win bare jielded to a good impulse, and wiU be at peace
witb joorself.'*
A gdbd balf bour passed before tbe ex-sbip-owner bad
poqred fortb all tbe spite and bitterness with which his
heart was filled ; be abused Marcel, Madam Thicny, and
his defunct brother, with almost equal violence. Marcel
teased him cmellj ; but finally, when he had succeeded in
exhausting him, he carried the day. Old Antoine related
the following story by fits and starts, forcing the lawyer to
draw firom l^m by piecemeal the secret of his life, which
was, at tbe same time, that of his character.
Tbe elopement of Mademoiselle de Meuil and AndrS
Thierry occurred forty years before the opening of our
atory ; aAer their fiight, the lovers came to M. Antoine
Thierry, who, although young, was already a rich man,
to beg an a^lum. llitherto the brothers liad been good
firiends. ^uidemoiselle do Meuil was secreted in the
house of the ship-owner, and regarded him with sincere
firiendship and lioly confidence. Pursued by the family
ds Meuil, and exposed to the danger of bciug sent to the
Bastile, Andri was obliged to leave Paris so as to mis-
lead bis enemies ; in the meanwhile powerful protectors,
interested in his favor, endeavored to bring about a
reconciliation, and finally succeeded in doing so.
The separation of the lovers lasted several months ;
and, during this period, Mademoisello de Meuil, a prey
to the most terrible anxiety, thought several times of
retnming to her relatives, so as to save her lover from
the perito and misfortunes that tlireatened him. More
than ones she discussed her plans confidentially with
brother Andri; she uked his advice, and did not bida
ANTONIA. ^5
from htm her grief and alarm. Thus appealed to, H.
Antoino conceived a rcallj whimsical idea ; the pUtn that
the poor man formed was suggested neither bj treachery
nor passion, bat it very soon brought his morbid vanity
into full play* But let him speak for himself:
** That girl,** ho said, ** was lost, although she and
my brother had never lived together as man and wife«
She was too much compromised to be received again by
her family, and could hope for nothing better than to
be sent to end her days in a convent. My brother
seemed to me in a still worse plight : they had obtained
a leUrt de cachet against him, which, at that time, was
no joke. He might have been thrown into prison at any
moment, and have lain there for twenty years, — how
did I know ? — perhaps for his whole life 1 The young
lady was constantly tolling mo all this herself; every
moment she cried, ^What shall wo do, M. Antoino?
Man Dieul what shall we do?' So then the idea
occurred to me that I would save them both by marrying
her. I was not in love with her. No 1 Tho devil take
me if I am lying. She belonged to a good family, and
that gave her a sort of distinction, — not in my eyes, for
I have no prejudices, but in the opinion of other people,^
and but for that she would not have been worth noticing.
You laugh 1 What are you laughing at, ass of a
lawyer?"
** I am not laughing," said Marcel. **6o on,^yoa
told her your fine idea."
** Plainly and fairly ; I was no more of a fool than my
brother, and could express myself just as well. Pray
was he an eagle in those days ? Ho was an insignificant
dauber, who had not had sense enough to lay up two sous,
and who had no reputation at all. Was ho more polite
than I, — younger, — better bred ? We had boon brought
up together, and ho hadi but one advantage ; I was five
years his senior. As far as appearances are concerned, I
was better looking than he ; Andri never was handaome.
He was a groat babbler, and had always been so ; I did
not talk so much, but was more sensible. Brothers, bom
of the same parents, with the same blood flowing in o«r
46 AmroNJA.
Teina, we were alike plebciimi. In the meanwhile I had
alrcadj made nearly a million that no one knew anything
about I This gare me a good deal of power which my
.* brother did not possess. With a million you can lull
jnstioe to sleep, pacify relatires, buy up protectors who
will not (afl you ; yon can even reach the ear of the kin<^,
and are qoite good enough to marry a girl of a noble
&mily with no dowry of her own. If people make an
ootciy, it is because they would like to have your milliou
in their own pockets. Finally, my money proved, plainly
CDOOgfa, that it was not from any lack of mind or genius,
thai I was not such a fine talker as my brother. All this
Hm young lady ought to hare understood. I did not ask
ker to love me immediately, but to love her Andr6 well
anod^ to forget him, and save him from being sent to
foi in prison. Nothing of the kind ! She behaved like
a pmde ; insteod of recognizing my good sense and gen-
erosity, she fiew into a passion, called mo rude, treated
like a bad brother and a dishonest man, and do-
iped from my house without telling me whore she was
going. Running all sorts of risks to avoid seeing me
again, she departed ; and, by way of thanks, Icfl mo a
letter promising never to inform M. Andre of my treach-
ery. I acknowled^ that I have never pardoned her for
that, and never will pardon her. As for my brother, liis
eoodoct in the affair offended me almost as much as that
of madame. I had no idea of waitiug until his haughty
wife should betray me. As soon as he had escaped from
hie troubles, and married, I told him the whole story,
aa I have just told it to you. Andr6 was not angry ;
be thanked me, on the contrary, for my good intentions,
bol he began to laugh. You know how frivolous ho was,
•»-a weak headl Well, he thought my idea comical,
and made fun of me. That put an end to our frioDdsliip
forever ; I would never consent to see either wife or hus-
band again.**
^ GmmI I ** said Marcel ; ** finally tlmt mystery is solved.
Bat Julien I —What grudge can you have against Julien ?
Ha was aoi bom at the time of your grievances.**
ANTONIA. 47
** I havo no grudge agaiast Jalion, bat ho is tho son
of his mothor, and I am suro that ho hates mo."
** Upon my honor, Jalion knows nothing about the
facts that you haro just reUted ; your conduct since his
father's death is all that he knows about you. Do yoa
think he can approve of that? Was it not your duty to
purchase the house for his mother, when ho swore, in
the most solemn manner, that he would devote his life
to paying you?"
** Fine security, the life of a painter I What became
of his father, — and he was famous?''
** Even if you had lost fifly thousand francs or so,
you who have more than — "
** Hold your tongue I The amount of a fortune should
never be mentioned* When such words are spoken, the
walls, the trees, the very fiower-pots have ears."
** At any rate, you are rich enough to have purchased
the house at Sevres without inconvenience; you will
acknowledge that?"
*^ Do you want to make me out a miser? "
** I know that you are not a miser, but I am forced to
believe that you are wicked, and that you love to see
those to whom you are hostile suffer."
** Well, have I not the right to do so? Since when
have we been forbidden to revenge ourselves?"
** Since we have ceased to be savages."
** I am a savage, then I "
"Yes I"
"Gro away, — 3rou have worn out my patience I «-
Take care that I do not turn against you idso I "
** I defy you to do so I "
"Why?^'
" Because you know that I am the only person in the
world who, in spite of all your perversities, feels a litUo
afibction and love for you."
" How discerning you are I Ton acknowledge that
Julien detests me."
" Make him love you I then you will have two friends
instead of one."
** Ah| of coarse 1 yon want me to purchase the hoase«
ANTONJA.
Yerj wdl, wheo Julien beeoroen an orphan I will look
aftar his interests, on conditioa that ho never speaks to
me of his mother.'*
** Ton would like him to ktU her, perhaps? You are
SI fiM^ uncle ; that is the long and the short of it. You
are ezeessivelj Tain, and you worship rank more than
those who can hoast of their ancestors. I am certain
thai you were not in lore with Mademoiselle de Meuil ;
bat she belonged to a good family, and for that reason
joa wanted to supplant your brother. You were furi-
ously jealous of poor Andri, not because yon loved a
beautiful and noble woman, but because of the parch-
ments which were her marriage portion, and the sort of
gkity reflected upon him by her affection. In a word,
jou do not hate the nobili^ ; you worship them, you
envy them, you would give aU your millions to Lave
been bom noble. Your pretended fury against them
is nothing but the spite of a disdained lover, as your
hatred against my aunt is merely the malice of an
obstinate and humiliated plebeian. This, my poor
mde, is jroor mania. We each of us have one, it is
•aid, but Uiis of yours makes you a bad man, and I am
sorry for you."
Tlie ex-ship-owner felt, perhaps, that Marcel was
right ; consequently he was prepared to work himself
up into a more violent rage than ever; but Marcel
shrugged his shoulders, turned his back upon him, and
went away without paying the least attention to his
invectives.
In his heart, Marcel was very glad to have got pos-
session of his uncle's secret, ^ the clue to his thoughts
smd recollections. He promised himself that he would
tani his discoverr to good account, and, by means of it,
would lead M. Antoine to amend. Will he succeed in
tbk eflRMt? The sequel must show.
'^Madam,'* said Maroel to the Countess d'Estrelle,
lbs next morning, ** you must sell jrour pavilion."
^ Why ?** reiOied Julie. «' It is so old, out of repair,
ood is worth so little r
^ It has a filalive Talus which you should not despise.
ANTONIA. 49
Mj tmda will give you ten thooMnd firanos for it,—
perhaps moro.^
**This is the first time, my dear lawyer, that 70a
have giveD me bad advice. I would never consent to
take advantage of a neighbor. Wonld not that be qpeen-
lating upon the need that he maj have of this old
building?'*
** A little patience, my noble client I My unde does
not need the pavilion ; he wants it : that, I assure yon is
a very different thing. He is rich enough to pay for his
fancies. And what would you say if he thanked you for
your demands?'*
**Howcanthatbe?"
**Make his acquaintance, and he will offer you a
consideration above the price."
** Fie, Monsieur Thierry I Would you have me pay
court to his money?"
** Not at all ; bestow a smile of patronising goodness
upon it) and it will fly to you of its own accord. Be*
sides, you will be doing a good deed."
"How so?"
*' Show my uncle that you feel an affection and esteem
for my aunt and cousin, — your tenants, — and you will
force the old man to help them effectually in their
distress."
" I will do that with all my heart. Monsieur Thierry,
and I already know your aunt well enough to appreciate
her. But what can I say of your cousin, whom I do not
know?"
^ " Do not hesitate upon that account. You can take
him upon trust fearlessly. Julien has a noble heart, ^ a
lofty mind,— a soul above his condition ; he is the best
of sons, the truest of friends, the most honest of men,
and, moreover, the most reasonable of artists. Tou can
say all that, countess, and if Julien ever gives the lie to
your statements, I am willing to forfeit your confidence
and esteem."
Marcel spoke with so much enthusiasm, that Julie was
deeply impressed. She refhuned from asking questions,
but listened, without losing a word, to the oondosioa
4
so
ANTONIA.
of his eulogy, and Harcel entered into details with which
WKf one, not absolute]/ incapable of feeling, would have
been toadied. He told her of Julien's devotion to his
BOClier, <rf the sufferings ho had endured without her
knowledge ; how ho even went without food in order tbi^t
•he might not be deprived of it. In making this stato-
BMOtf Uarcel, Ifte Madam Thierry on the preceding day,
mllered a falsehood without knowing it. Julion did not
because he was in love ; and Marcel, who was far
suqwcting the truth, thought that he understood the
of his involuntary austerity. But Julien was cap-
able of doinc a great deal more for his mother than
retCraining his appetite : he would have given the lost
drop of his blood for her ; so that Marcel, although he
did not state the exact truth in regard to a special fact,
aCated far less than the truth.
His panegyric upon Julien was so enthusiastic and
heartfelt, that tlie countess had no excuse for hesitating.
8be begged Marcel to inform uncle Antoine that she was
anxious to see his rare flowers, and to visit his immense
nod curious plantations. Uncle Antoine received this
eommunication with an air of haughty scepticism.
^ I understand all that,** he said ; ** she wants a high
price for the pavilion ; she will make me pay the eyes out
of my head for her politeness."
Marcel was not duped by his grumbling. The satis-
inction of the rich man was too apparent.
On the appointed day. Madam d'Estrelle dressed herself
onee more in deep mourning, stepped into her carriage,
nod drove to the hotel Melcy. Marcel was standing at
tho door awaiting her. He offered her his hand, and, as
Ihoy ascended tho great front steps, uncle Antoine made
hia appearance in idl his glory, in the dress of a gardener.
Consid eri ng the folly of the old man, this really was not
n bad idea. Without oonsnlting Marcel, he had half
j soolved to amy himself magnificently. Ho was rich
aoon^ to wear eloth of gold,if ho desired it, but the fear
of looking ridiculous restrained him. Since he prided
r, above everything elsoi upon bemg a great horti-
ANTONIA. 51
cultoriflt, he had sense enough to appear before his distin*
guished risitor in a severely rustic costume.
In spite of his harsh character and habituallj rude
manners 9 — in spite of his secret desire to assert his inde-
pendence and philosophical pride before Marcel, — ho lost
countenance altogether when the beautiful Julie saluted,
him graciously, and looked at him with her sweet, frank
expression. For the first time in thirty years, perhaps,
he took off his three-cornered hat, and, instead of re-
placing it immediately upon his head, held it awkwardly,
but respectfully, under his arm, during the whole tune
that her visit lasted.
Julie was above the pettiness of trying to flatter his
caprices, but she took a genuine interest in the horti-
cultural wealth displayed to her. A /lower herself, she
loved flowers ; and this is not a madrigal, to use the lan-
guage of that epoch. There are natural affinities in all
the creations of God, and in all tunes symbols have been
the expression of a reality.
The rich man, although in himself not at all like a
rose, felt his heart expand, nevertheless, at the sincere
praise bestowed upon his cherished plants. In presenco
of the sylph who seemed to float over the turf without
touching it, and who glided along the borders of his
flower-beds like a caressing breeze, he gradually forgot
his affected pride. With perfect resignation, he waited
to learn the amount that she proposed to demand for
the pavilion.
**By the way,** said Marcel, who saw that Madam
d'Estrelle had forgotten this affair, **tell the countesS|my
dear uncle, how anxious you are to purchase ^ "
^ ** Yes, in fact," said the rich man, without allowing
himself to be too much compromised, **I have had
some idea of purclmsing the pavilion of the hotel
d'Estrelle ; but at present, if madame regrets parting with
** There is onl^ one reason that makes me do so,"
replied Julie ; ** it is occupied by persons for whom I
feel a great respeot| and I do not wish to have them
disturbed*** ^
53 ANTONIA.
^Tliej have a leaae, I •oppose?'* said M. Thierry,
wiio knew perfecUj well how matters stood.
^KTerlainl ji** said Marcel ; ** and you will have to pay
llwiii a largo indemnity if they conseot to annul it, for
Ibej hare just entered into possession.**
^A lan» indemnity?** said uncle Antoine, frown«
^ I win willingly undertake that dnty,** said Madam
«Esti«Uo,if— **
** If I pay in proportion ! **
^That is not what I intended to say,** said Julie, in
A tone of dignity that cut the discussion short. ** I in-
teoded to say, that if Madam Thierry, your sister-in-law,
ia imwilling to leave her lodging, it is my intention to
maintain her rights to the full enjoyment of her lease.
I shall make this a condition of the sale, and no pur-
diaser will be allowed to elude it under any pretext.**
^ Sndi a condition will delay the sale of the pavilion,
•nd make it less adrantageous to you, madame,** said
IL Antoine, who was longing to pronounce the sweet
word eotmtetf, but who coSd not make up his mind to
do so.
^ That may be, Monsieur Thierry,** replied Julie, in
A tone of indificrence which the rich man thought as-
anmed, and Tery adroit.
**To oomo to the point,** he said, after a moment's
•Oence. ** What will be the price demanded by— ? **
Marod was going to reply ; but Julie, who certainly
did not understand business, did not notice this, and
asawered, ingenuously,—
^ Oh I as to that, I really don't know. Tour reputation
ia that of an honest and just man ; yon can fix the price
jourselt*'
Without paying any attention to the reproachful glance
cf hear lawyer, she contumed, —
**Toa cannot soppose, M. Thierry, that I came to
iHmX your garden so as to drive a bargain with you
abo«t iny little piece of property. I know that you would
Eka to pmdiase it, and yon know, probably, that my
an embarrassed ; bat this, sorely t need not mak»
ANTONIA. 53
ofl unjust in our dealings with ettch other. Thadeckmiion
that I have just made I shall abide by. I will not con-
sent to have your sister-in-law annoyed upon anj account,
— not for a million, — for I love and honor her. Consider
that point settled, therefore. As to the other matter,
reflect upon it, and let mo know your decision ; for yoa
owe me a visit now, my good neighbor, and I shall not
excuse you from paying it, whether we condnda our
present negotiations or not.''
The countess retired, leaving the rich man daisied
by her sweetness and grace. Unable to conceal his satia*
fiiction from Marcel, ho tried to attribute it to soma
other cause than the true one.
**How now, lawyer ?** he cried, with an air of tri-
umph. **You are caught, and look foolish enough!
What have you to say now about the demands of thia
lady? She is more sensible than you : she agrees to m/
valuation — "
'^ Enjoy her pretty ways, and praise her politeness, to
3rour heart's content," replied Marcel ; *' but, at the same
time, try to understand, and be equal to, the part aha
expects you to play/'
** In fact you are right I *' said Antoine, who waa
very acute in matters of business. *' When a great lad/
says to a man like mo, * Do as you choose,' she means,
* Pay like a great lord 1 ' Very well ; by the life of me,
I will pay dear I The countess shall see that I am not
a miserly old pedant, like her father-in-law, the marquis I
There is only one thing that surprises me in a woman that
seems so sensible, and that is, the friendship that aha
feels for my sister-in-law. I don't exactly know whether
she meant to be agreeable to me, or to vex me, by talk*
ing as she did."
*' She meant to be agreeable to you."
** I suppose so, since she wants to make use of ma«
Still, my sister-in-law may have told her that I was a
miser."
** My aunt has not spoken of you at all. Behave so
that she will not have to complain about yon."
**Let her oomplaiui if she chooses! What harm
54 ANTONIA.
irould U do me? Whj should I care for the frieDdship
and respect of this countess?''
M Whj, iudcod I ^ replied Marcel, taking his hat. " It
is erideat enough hot^ indifiereot yon are I But no mat-
ter ; do jour b^ to behave like a civilised being, and
name thie day for your visit, so that I may announce it."
Antoine appointed the day after the morrow, and they
aeparated. On the very next day, without informing
llareel, he took indirect but skilful measures for repur-
chasing the house at Sevres. Had he resolved to restore
his fii&er^s house to his nephew, to confer so great a
blesshig npon his sister-in-law ? Certainly not I No man
in the wcnM was more vindictive than M. Antoine, for
he had never found a vent eitlier for his good or bad pos-
•idiSt and repression had increased their violence. No
influences in his narrow life had softened the asperities
of his nature. But, at last, an impression was made
upon him. Without affectation and without calculation,
merely by unconsciously flattering his secret vanity, Julie
d'Estrelle had conquered this savage nature. Ho con-
sidered her condescension interested, he attributed it
entirely to her need of money ; and yet the irresistible
grace of her manner, and the tone of unaffected equality
m which she addressed him, had flattered him as he
had never before been flattered in his whole life. He
resolved, therefore, that he would pretend to feel a sort
of commiseration for Madam Tliierry. He was really
afraid that she would injure him in Julie's estimation,
and bv purchasing the house at Sevres he persuaded
himself that he would force his enemy to treat him with
respect, since she would naturally imagine that he in-
tended to confer it npon Julien.
Marcel, in the meanwhile, was doing his best to free
Madam d'Estrelle gradually from her embarrassments.
On the very evening of her visit to M. Antoine, he went
to scold her for her rashness, and to insist that she should
make her purchaser pay dearly for his suffar-plum. He
Ifaond her but little inclined to enter into his schemes.
^ Do what Toa please, dear M. Thierry/' she said,
-tol do not ask my assistance. Ton toU me that your
ANTONIA. 55
undo was somewhat vain, that I could easilj^ gain an
influence over him^ thanks to my title, and might lead
him to ameliorate his sistor-in-law^s misfortunes. I hast-
ened to try my power, and you tell me that you hope
something from my efforts. I have done what my heart
dictated, hut do not talk to me of any further projects.
Why are you so anxious to sell this pavilion? You told
me yourself that my husband's creditors, since I have
acquired a little more real estate, would be less exacting ;
that the marquis would never allow the hotel d'Estrelle
to be sold ; and that, for soma time at least, you would
allow me to forget my troubles. Keep your word with
me I Let your uncle make his own offer for the pavilion,
since these negotiations will give me an excuse for plead-
ing Madam Thierry's cause. When I said that I did
not wish her to bo dispossessed of her lodging against her
will, I spoke the simple truth, and I assure you tliat I
shall regret exceedingly to have her leave the neighbor-
hood."
Marcel, finding that he could not change her resolution,
took his leave. He stopped at the pavilion, and told
Madam Thierry, and Julien, who was also present, of the
efforts that the generous countess had made in their be-
half, and the kind sentiments with which she regarded
them.
Madam Thierry was so touched, that she could not
restrain her tears. Julien had played his part so well,
that her fears in regard to him had been dissipated, and,
pouring forth, at last, the gratitude with which her heart
was fuU, and which she had with difficulty repressed for
several days, she broke out into an enthusiastic eulogy of
Julie d'Estrelle. The poor mother, therefore, poured oil
herself upon the flames.
Still, however, from moment to moment, her suspicions
returned. At every word that she uttered she glanced
stealthily at Julien, to see how he received her remarks.
His perfect self-possession reassured her, until a sudden
outbreak revealed his true state of feeling. Madam
Thierry was saying to Marcel that she did not wish to
keep the countess from selling the paviUon, and would
56 ANTON I A.
•
pratoid that she felt no regret at giTing up her lodgingi
iHien Julien interposed Tchementl / :
^Move again ?** he cried. *« We cannot do it. We
have spent too much, in proportion to our means, in get-
tinil established here.**
^ Tour uncle will provide for that,'' said Marcel ; ** if
he i>roes jou to move, I will do my best to extort from
hins — -
^ Ify dear friend,'* Julien continued, with increased ani-
mation, *' jour seal and goodness are incomparable ; but
JOU know perfeetl/ well that my mother dislikes to have
TOO make any adyances to undo Antoine. All that you
haye done hithorto has been against her will, and she
woidd haye forbidden you positively to make any appeal
%m him, if it had not been out of consideration for me.
It is not for us to judge whether she is right or wrong in
detesting him as she does. For my part, I should have
been willing to make all possible coocessions, even if I
suffered in doing so, to a man with such a singular
diaracter ; but I cannot allow my mother's pride to be
yroonded."
^ No, no 1 1 have no pride," cried Madam Thierry ; ** I
cast my pride from me, Julien I You are working too
much ; yon will fall ill if wo refuse to negotiate with M.
Antoine* Whatever Marcel's plans may be, they have
my approval \ even if I must be humiliated, I shall be
happy. Let us do our duty before everything else : let us
pay our debts. We will tell the countess that it is a mat^
t«r of indifference to us whether we live here or else-
where, and beg her to conclude the sale ; and let Marcel
say to M. Thierry that we demand our rights, or that we
implore his generosity. I am willing to make every sac-
rifiee so that you recover your repose and health."
^My health b excellent," replied Julien, warmly;
•« and my repose will be very much disturbed by moving
again. I like my studio ; I have a work on hand -~"
^Bnt you are speaking selfishly, my child 1 You do
BOt remember that this kdy is being tormented by her
creditors, just as we arsi and even more than we are, for
ANTONIA. 57
** And jou think M. Antoine will reliera her bj pur-
chasing this horel? Marcel is not so foolish 1 "
«« My opinion is," said Marcel, ** that M. Antoine will
submit to all the conditions that the countess may choose
to impose ; he will pay a high price for tbo parilion, and
will not compel you to move. Let me alone, and I may,
perhaps, lead him to do something still better.''
«« What?" said Madame Thierry.
** That is my secret. You shall know about it later,
if I do not fail."
*' Ah, mon Dieu I " said Madam Thierry, interrupting
the conversation, ** I have forgotten my snuff-box ; go
and bring it to me, Julien."
Julien went up stairs, and his mother took advantage
of the moment's t^te-iUt^te that she had contrived to ob-
tain with Marcel, to say quickly, —
** Take care, my dear friend I We are threatened with
a great danger : Julien is in love with the countess."
'^What are you saying?" cried Marcel, in perfect
amazement ; ** you are dreaming, my good aunt ; it is
impossible." ^
^' Speak lower. It is possible, — it is a fact. Do
what you can to get us out of this dangerous abode.
Find some means, without allowing him to suspect what
I have told you. Save him, — save me 1 Silence, — ha
IS coming."
Julien performed his errand with the utmost despatch.
He was eager to take part again in the conversation ; but
when he entered the room he noticed that his mother
looked embarrassed, and that Marcel seemed surprised
and troubled. He felt that his secret had been betrayed,
and immediately assumed an air of cheerful indifference
that no longer deceived Madam Thierry, but which com-
pletely reassured the lawyer. The latter went away
promising himself that he would sound his cousin when an
opportunity occurred, but persuaded that Madun Thierry,
agitated by the events of the last few days, was a little
out of her mind.
Marcel soon made a disoovery much mora f nrprising
58 ANTONIA.
Ihaa thifi — lo surprbiDg, In fact, that we beg our readers
to prepare themeelves for it a little in advance*
On the appointed day, unde Antoine went to call upon
Madam d*£etrelle« He found her simple and natural as
•▼er, and quite as charming, — perhaps eren more charm-
ing, — - than at their first interview. She greeted the hor-
tieulturist just as she would have done a person of her
own dass. Unaccustomed to societpri but endowed with
penetration, he felt that his reception was perfect, and
that he had never been treated so well hj a person of her
nodal position.
He saw, also, that she was really indifferent to the
qoestion of monev. It was evident that her courtesy had
aoi been assumed to obtain an^ ulterior object whatever,
—even that of reoondling him to Madam Thierry,—
aioce she ezprcMcd her desire to see them reconciled
frankly and cordially.
M. Thierry returned from this interview radiant with
m delight that he no longer took any pains to conceal.
When Marcel saw him, lie was obliged to confess that, in
certain cases, straightforward hooesty is the best diplo-
macy ; and that Madam d'Estrello had done more for her
protegis and hcrsclfi by following her natural iostioct,
than die would have done if she had been more artful.
**Now then,'* said M. Antoiue, ** we must settle this
matter of the pavilion. I consider it worth forty thou-
•and francs, and that is what I intend to pay for it. I
•hall want to enter into possession immediately, and it is
my duty, therefore, to meet any claims tliat Madam
Thierry may urge. I don't want to have any discussion
with that woman. Tdl her that I release her from the
•ix thousand francs for which I am security ; here is my
recdpt. Furthermore, if she requires a small amount
over and above this, to defray the expenses of moving,
•be shall have it. Go, and don't let her break my he^
nay longer with her troubles. In the first place, how-
ever, take my ofier,— which I think is very generous,—
to the countess, and tell her of mv promise to indemniQr
r nrotigis, according to her wish.^
lUiod was amasedi but delighted. He carried this
ANTON/A.
S9
good nows, in the firat ploco, to Mndam Thierry, who
thnokod her •tors, and was rondf to blcea oroQ her
brothoMD-Iaw, eho waa so grateful to him for forcing
her to move aa quickly m poMible, and at all coBts.
Mudom d'EstrcUo was not so well pleased ; slio had
had another interview with the amiable widow, she
enjoyed lier tocietj and regretted lo lose it, and tlioo tier
delicacy was offendod by M. Antoioo's muniflcont ofibr,
which seemed to her the ostentatious folly of a ploboinn.
She ftit that she would be liumilialcd by accepting it.
"He will think," she said, "that I havo been mo-
naiuning to induce him to pay this extravagant price,
and that would annoy mo excccdiagly. No indeed I I
shall only aocopt half that he offers ; Z prefer to dcclioo
his generosity, and retain Lis respect and my influence,
whicii I can oxort in favor of the poor Tliiorrys. Toll
him the prico of the pavilion is twenty thousand franca,
and that I ask, furlheimoro, the conliauatlon of hia sister-
in-law's lease."
"But my aunt is anxious to move," replied Marcel;
"you must remember that the inducomoot he offers is
a matter of great importance."
" Then say nolUiog about her affairs in my name ;
but remember that my dignity is intrusted to you, and
do not allow it to be compromised."
Tliis reply, traDsmittod to M. Antoino, led to an ex*
plosiou by which the lawyer was dumbfounded.
" So," criod the rich man, " she refuses to accept a favor
from me ; for, knowing her cmbarossmcnts, I was going
to do her a favor. I was going to treat her liko a friend,
since site treated me like one. Ah I you see, Marcet,
she is scornful, she dospisoa me, she told mo a lie when
she eaid that she thought highly of me I Very well,
since this is the case, I will be Tevenged 1 Yes, cruelly
revenged; she shall have her deserts I By heavens, I
will make her beg my help."
The faco of the extravagant old man waa still rather
handsome, and at this momeut it looked aamiatakaUy
wicked. AUreel gased upon him in aileaoo.
fO ANTONIA.
•^WIiAl is this new mTSterf?'' he said to himselfi
•erotinisiiig his ttxiclo*s piereing black ejes, flashing with
spite and indignation* ** Can wonnded yanihr cnlminato
in delirium? Is mjr nnde losing his senses? Has the
abstnustedi solitarj, monotonous life that ho has led so
long, been too much for him? Will the rage that he
eonstantl/ expresses against all the feelings that warm
and illnmine Uie heart, load, in the long run, to insanitj? "
Antoine, without noticing Marcel's scrutinj, continued
Tehementl J, —
^ I nndorstand what you ars all about I Tou want
Hadam Thierry to get the benefit of mj generosity.
Now, fiir my part, I I^to not the least idea of making
m fool of myself for the sake of Mademoiselle de MeuiL
For a long time I have ceased to feel either hatred or
firiendship for that person. Let her go to tlie devil, — I
oerer want to hear her spoken of again. I will pay forty
thousand (rancs for the pavilion, or I will not purchase it.
That is my final decision.^
The affair remained in this state for several days.
Madam d'Estrelle laughed good-humoredly at what she
considered the old plebeian's fit of insanily, while the lat-
ter, unknown to Marcel, acted as if his madness had
readied a climax.
Purchasing secretly the claims of all the creditors who
were threatening the widow of the Count d'Estrelle, he
put himself into a position that would enable him,—
according to her conduct to him, — to destroy, or restore
her to prosperity. Under a fictitious name he purchased,
also, the house at Sevres, with all its rich and precious
furniture, and put it under the charge of a housekeeper.
All this was accomplished in a short time, and with great
expenditure. Finally, one day, having found out from
Marcel about the intmiate friends of Madam d'Estrelle,
he went to call upon the Baroness d'Ancourt. The
baroness received him in great state, but deigned, never-
theless, to listen to him attentively, when she learned that
he had come to enable her to save Madam d'Estrelle from
certain ruin*
Their eoBversatioo was long and nqrsterious. The
AI/TONIA. 6l
servants ot tho hotel d*Anooart were reiy much posded
at this conferenco between their hanghtj mistress and a
sort of presomiog peasant, and still more so at the
nature of the interview. Now the resouudinff voice of
the baroness was heard breaking suddenly forth| and
then tho harsh voice of her rustic visitor ; the/ were
quarrelling, in short, and their dispute was interrupted
with bursts of merriment or mockery ; for the baroness
laughed, at moments, so as to shake the glasses*
An honr after, the baroness hastened to call upon
Madam d'Estrelle*
** My dear," she said, in an agitated voice, ** I bring
you five millions, or misery ; —choose."
** Ah 1 an old husband, is it not so ? '' said Julie ; ^* yoa
keep to your idea.''
** A very old husband ; but five millions I **
*' And a great name, undoubtedly ?**
** No name at all! — a thorough plebeian ; but five mil*
lions, Julio I "
*' An honest man, at least? **
'^ He is considered so ; have you decided ?**
*' Yes, I refuse him! Would not you do the same?
Would you respect me if I should do otherwise ?**
*' I told him you would say so. I ordered him out
of the house. I made fun of him. He replied, obstinatelyi
* Five millions, madam, five millions I ' "
''And he convinced you, since you have come to
mel".
^ *' Convinced or not, I was surprised, dazxled ; I said,
like, the queen, * You urge me so strongly.' "
^' Then you advise me to say yes ? "
*' Do not say ye^^ say perhaps^ and reflect ; I will re-
fleet also, for, at this moment, my head is not dear.
These millions have intoxicated me. What would you
have? The man is old, — in a little while you will bo
free: people will stop crying out against the m6salli«
ance I besides, every one knows that you, yourself, are
not noble. You can open drawing-rooms that will dassla
all Paris, and all Paris will rush to your fites ; for, when
all is said, Fiuris has but one idea: to seek amusement,
6a ANTONIA.
and go wliere it b to bo fooDd. Yoa can giro Imlbi oon*
eertt, prirato theatricals ; can All ^ur rooms with artists,
beaatifitl siogors, flno taikcrs« bnlliaiit people, ia short,
able to entertain and amuse the stupid aristocrats. Ah I
if I had five millions,— if I had only two,— I should
know what to do with them I Come, do not think mo
a fool, and do not be a coward. Accept mlgarit/ and
opnbnce.
** And the old age of the husband?"*
^ A reason the more I **
Julie was indi^^nant and Amelie excited; they quar-
leOed. Madam d'Ancourt did not tell her the name of
her saitor, and Julie did not think to inquire. Fearing
thai her impetiipos friend might compromise her bj
allowing her protigi to hope, she conunissioned Marcel
to find oat who he was, and tell him plainly of her re-
IhsaL Marcel wont to Madam d'Ancourt to learn the
name of the millionaire.
*^Ah, she has reconsidered her decision?'' cried the
baroness.
** No, madam, quite the contrary."
** Very well, you shall not know his name. I promised
oo my honor not to reveal it, in case he was rejected."
Marcel went to the hotel Melcy. He suspected the
truth, but had said nothing to the countess, for he
leared, with good reason, that she would reproach him
for having introduced her to an insane old man. Besides,
Marcel valued his uncle's fortune only at two millions, —
this was all that he claimed to be worth ; and still felt
doubtful, therefore, as to whether he really was the por-
•on in question. He was in a measure misled by the
five millions that had been dinned into Julie's ears as
tiM amount of her suitor's fortune.
^ So, ande," he said, abruptly, as soon as he entered,
^ you are worth fii^ millions? "
«* Why not thirty?" said the old man, shrugging his
■bould er s. ** Have yon gone crasy ? "
It was in vain that Miuroel teased him with questions ;
kio vaelo remained impenetrable. A great event had
jfM/L oecurred in his establishment, that had rsalhr dk»
AMTONU. ^
Tortod his mind from his dromns of moiriiigOi so thai il
was more oosj for him to conceal the truth. Tho mjt*
tcrious lily that ho had so oiVon contomplotcdi watohodi
watered, and tended, — tho flowor that was to boar hit
namo, — durin<|f tlio last few days of neglect and abandon*
ment had suddenly put forth a vigorous shoot, alread/
covered with well-swollen buds* One of these buds waa
already partly open, and within the calyx could bo seea
silken petab of incomparable beauty, — white, lustrooa,
and spotted with a brilliant rose* The horticulturist waa
beside himself with joy* Animated, almost consoled for
his matrunonial mishaps, he walked up and down hia
greenhouse in a great state of agitation, or paused to
watch the opening of his flower, while ho criodi again
and again, —
<* This shall be the one I This shall be the one I I
am settled* This shall be the Anionia Thierrii; and all
the amateurs of Europe, if they choose, may burst with
rage."
«< Upon my word,** said Marcel to himself, '^ I am
more m doubt than ever. Is it .with the AnUmia or
with the countess that my uncle is in tove?**
III.
«
n^HE vanity of the horticulturist had resumed its
^ ^ sway over Antoine's mind. Seeing this, and reflect-
ing that be might turn his uncle's enthusiasm to account
for the benefit of his prot6g6s. Marcel bestowed tho
greatest praise upon tho Antonieu
*' You intend, I suppose, to send it to the Jardin dei
jRoi," he said. « The botanisU there ought to feel a
great esteem for you*''
** They will count upon this one in vain,** replied M.
Antoine. «' The^ may look at it until they are Ured, de-
scribe it in their beaatiful language, give a sdentiflo
Moount of it, as they Ify; but the spoomon ia nniqua»
I
ANTONIA.
mod I ihall not pari from it until I have a number of
cAhoolt.''
** Bat if it dies without propagating ? **
** Hj name will live in the cataloguea, eren then.*'
^That is not enough I If I were you, I would have
ii painted, to provide against accidento/'
**How painted? Do people paint flowers nowadays?
Oh, I understand 1 you mean that I ought to have its
poitrait taken? I hare thought about that with my
other rare plants ; but I had quarrelled with my brother,
and the other painters whom I employed were fools;
tlieir daubs never satisfied me. I paid them a high price
Ibr their work« and afterwards cut up the canvas, or tore
thepaper.**
** Did Tou never think of Julien ? ^
** Bah 1 Julien, — an apprentice 1 ^
** Have you ever seen any of his work ? **
^^ No, faith, nothing/'
*^ Would you like me to bring you—?"
** No, nothing, I tell yon. We have quarrelled."
^ Not at all. He has called upon you regularly every
year, on the first of January, and you have always been
pleased with him."
**That is true. He has been well brought up, he
is quite sensible, and is good-looking. But, since I
refused to advance the money to purchase the house at
Wvrcs— "
** Julien has never blamed you, or uttered a discon-
tented word on the subject. I can assure of you that,
vpon my honor.**
^That may be true, and yet he may not have the
aecessary talent — **
** Hold 1 a small specimen will do as well as a large
one. Take your magnifying-glass, and look at this.**
llaroel drew from his pocket a preUy little shell snufi*-
box, with a bouquet pamted upon it in miniature, by
Jolieo* Ahhough this was not his style, he had copied
one of his pictures on this microscopic scale, so as to
make this pceeent to Uareel ; and the little painting was
m witaUe chef d*csavie« ^
ANTONIA. 6$
m
Uncle Antoine was too ignorant of art to appreetato its
real merit ; bat he understood the anatomj of eveiy part
of a plant as well as the most thorough botanist, and
if iiis magnifyin^^-glass did not enablo him to count the
stamens of every flower, and the nerves of aveiy leaf,
it proved to him, at least, that the artist, in sacrificing
details to produce liis general efioct, had not sinned against
nature ; that he liad not been led astray by any error,
fancy, or heresy, contradicting the inviolable laws of
creation.
After examining it for a long time, he asked, inge-
nuously, whether Julien could paint as large as lifo;
and, when Marcel replied in the alllrmativey decided that
he would lot him take the portrait of the Aniania
Thterriu He added, however, that he wocdd require
him to work under his own oyes^ so that he might watch
over him, and see that he was exact in the most minute
details.
** I know what these painters are I " he said ; *^ they
want to interpret, — tliey want to do better than nature.
They must have their atmosphere^ lights effect I Oh, I
remember all tiicir stupid words! If Julien will be
obedient, both of us together, perhaps, may succeed in
producing something really beautiful. Qo and tell him
what I want, and let him hold himself in readiness to
pass an hour here day after to-morrow; it will be in
full bloom by that time."
Marcel went to consult Julien, and returned to tell
Antoine that the artist would require two days, at least,
for studying his model, and tliat he could not allow him
to see his sketches until they were completed, when ho
would be willing to submit them to him and inake such
alteration as he desired, if he did not find them satis&o*
tory.
^* He is very proud,'' said undo Antoine, impatiently ;
*| look at that, — he is akeady making difficulties just
like his father* Does he suppose I am asking him to
paint the flower as a favor? I intend to pay him, and
will pay as high a price as any one, no matter who.
IVay what is a day of this genUeman's kbor worth?**
66 ANTONIA.
^ Ha does not ask 700 to pay him. If 70a are pleased
with what he does, he will ask yoor patronage*'*
*^ It if eaqr to know what that means ; he will ask
** Nothing at alL Ton shall settle the matter yonrself.
Every one knows that 70a are generous when 70a do not
disl^ people, and you will not dislike Julien when you
know hun hetter.**
'^Yery well; let him come inunedlately, — let him
begin*
** No, he is Terr busy to-day ; he will give you several
boors, to begin with, to-morrow/'
The next day, in fact, Julien began to study the plant,
and made several sketches, presenting it, under different
aspects. M. Antoine, faithful to their agreement, did not
see these sketches until the artist submitted them to him.
He was more pleased than he cared to acknowledge.
This conscientious manner of studying its structure and
attitude surprised and delighted him. Julien talked very
little ; he looked constantly at his model, and ho looked at
it with real artistic enthusiasm, as if ho loved it passion-
attty. The horticulturist began immediately to feel a sort
of respect for him, and, as Madam Thierry had never
told her son of her brother-in-law's foolish conduct, ns
nothing in the face or manner of the young man indicated
that he regarded his uncle with the least aversion, An-
toine, who felt a real need of forming some human ties, -—
m necessity that, had increased in proportion with his
vanity,— -conceived for him (if we may say so) a sort
of blmd and unconscious friendship.
On the second day Julien began to paint ; his uncle
could DO longer follow the progress that ho was mak-
ing, and beoune uneasy. It was much worse when
Jvdiea dedarod that he must finish the painting in his
stadioi where the light was arranffed to siuit him, and
where he had a number of little objects, all of which he
ooold not remember to bring with him, and which he
wanted to use. It was quite a distance (W>m the pavilion
%m the hotel Melqri and, on the next day, they would have
ao time to kMoia coming and going ; he would have to
ANTONIA. 67
seiso tho expression of the plant on the wing, when it wae
in full bloom*
But tho model might bo injured by being moved ; the
flower might wither prematurely^ the stalk might be weak-
ened, its freshness might be tarnished I Tlie artist was
firm, and uncle Antoine resolved that he would carry his
precious Anionia to the studio himself, even at the risk
of meeting Madam Thierry, and being forced to bow to
her.
Julien, in compelling his uncle to make this hard sacri-
fice, had not yielded to the petty caprice of a fanciful
artist. He had followed the advice of Marcel, who waa
anxious to bring about a reconciliation between the op* .
posing members of the family ; and who, as he could not
persuade Madam Thierry to miake any advances, thoaght
tho best plan would be to surprise her by a chance inter-
view with her enemy.
Wo have represented Madam Thierry as perfect,—^
and she really was about as perfect as a human being
can be; — still, however, she had one little fault* Al^
though free from coquetry, from vanity, and from the
weakness of thinking herself young, she had never really
said to herself, ** I am old." What woman of her time
was more sensible and clear-sighted? Iler youth had
bloomed perennially in madrigals, gallant speeches, and
delicate attentions. She had been so pretty, and was so
well-preserved ! Her husband, although he had ruined
her by his imprudence, had been in love with her up to
his last day ; and it really seemed as if this old couple
had been destined to bring Philemon and Baucis to lifo
again. As she had never ceased to hear that she was
still charming, -~ relatively to her age this was perfectly
true, — good Madam Thierry had never ceased to feel
like and consider herself a woman, and, afler a laspo
of forty years, she had not forgotten how deeply her
pride and dignity had been wounded by the pretensions
of the ship-owner. This rude man, who had had the
audacity to say to her, «« Look at mo. I am rich ; you
can love me instead of my brother," had caused her the
only real mortification to which she had been ezpoeed
68 ANTONIA.
in comoqneiioe of her elopement, which the world, at the
time, had considered an unpardonable impmdonce. In
after years her beauty, agreeable manners, and noblo
character, had caused her to be sought by her husband's
admirers. She had been able to lift her head, to triumph
over prejudices, and had occupied an exceptional and
•nriable position in public opinion. She had been un-
usually happy, therefore ; but never had she forgotten
this one insult, nor could she think of it witliout bitter-
asss. It seemed to her that she had been contami-
nated ODoe in her life, by the offers and hopes of M.
Antoine.
Uaroel could not penetrate these subtle, feminine senti-
ments. He imagined that time must have taught Madam
Thierry to smile at this ridiculous adventure, and that
•he had been perfectly sincere in declaring her readiness
to pardon the past, so as to obtain the favor of their rich
relative for Jnlien.
Julien was not a man to covet his uncle Antoino's
wealth. He had never said to himself that, if he would
consent to flatter him, he might look forward to bccomiDg
his principal heir. For a long time he had refused to
ask him the slightest favor ; but he longed to recover for
hb mother the house where she had been so happy, aod
this desire had conquered his pride. He had resolved
to devote his life, if necessary, to paying his debts, and
m k>nger blushed at Marcel's efforts to persuade Antoine
to advance the necessary funds.
Nevertheless, when he saw his undo nearing the
house, Julien reproached himself for having deceived
his mother. He feared that the surprise would be too
much for her, and, at the last moment, tried to pre-
pare her for what she had to expect. Madam Thierry
did not lose courage ; but, as soon as she had bowed
to M. Antoine, she made some excuse for going to her
nwm, and there she remained. It seemed to her impos-
aibla to endure the presence of this disagreeaUe person-
age. Antoine, who had not seen her for forty years, did
not rscognise her at first, and was not sumeiently self-
to apdiogiae fivr his finrgetfiilness ThAC« icaa
ANTONIA. 69
a gate opening firom his garden into tlie rue de Babytone,
quite near the paviliony and he bad taken this path to
the studio. Unwilling to lot any one touch his rariegated
I1I7, he had brought it himself. lie placed it himself
upon the table of the little studio, he took off the great
horn of white paper protecting it, and, when the artist
began to work, took up a newspaper which Madam
d'EstreUe sent to Madam Thierry every morning, and
fell asleep over it in a comer of the studio.
Julien was expecting Marcel, who had promised to
tiT and bring about the proposed reconciliation ; but
lEUrceli detained by business, did not arrive. Madam
Thienry did not appear. Julien felt that he could not
break the ice without the help of his cousin : he did not
say a word, therefore; he workedi did his best, and
thought of Julie.
Uncle Antoine was only asleep with half an eye. In
the house of the woman he hated, and so near the hotel
d'Estrelloi the abode of his new fancy, he felt restless,
disturbed, agitated ; he was more troubled than he would
have cared to confess. He got up, walked to and fVo,
with his creaking boots ; sat down again, and finally,
forgetting his lily for a moment, began to talk to Julien.
*^ How about your work,'' he said ; ** have you a great
deal to do? **
'* A great deal,'' replied Julien.
" Do people pay you well ? "
'* Quite well ; I have no cause to complain.**
*' How much do you earn a day? "
*' A dozen francs or so," said Julien, smiling.
** That is very liule ; but your father made still less
at your age, and I suppose you will increase your prico
fit>m year to year."
'* I hope and intend to do so."
'* You are prudent and systematic, I am told.**
** Yes, uncle ; Fam obliged to be so."
** Do you go much into society ? "
'* I have no time to go."
** You know, however, persons of good famOr? **
** My father's firiends have not forgotten me.^
JO
AjrroNiA.
^ Too toinetfaiies retorn their vbiU?**
^ y«rjr Midom, and only when Docessarj.**
^ How about the BaroneM d'Ancourti— do roa know
Wrf-
** Herelj bj name, — nothiog more.**
«« She is a frieDd of Madam d'EstreUe?**
^ I have no idea.**
^ But 70a mast know Madam d'Estrelle?**
••No, unde.**
•• Have joa never seen her ? **
•• Nerer.-
Jnlien ottered this lie coorageoosly. It seemed to him
that every one was trying to find out his secret, and he
kad resolved to hide it with the most savage resolution.
•• That is cnrious,^ said undo Antoine, who, perhaps,
really did feel some suspicion upon this point, if only to
be true to his habit of suspecting every one; **your
mother spends hours, whole days, they say, in her gar-
den, and even in her drawing-room, and you •« ''
•• I am not my mother/*
•• Yoo mean that you are not noble.**
•• I mean that I am not of an age to seek the acquaint-
ance of a lady who is living secluded, and who on]y
receives visits from elderly persons.'*
** Yoo regret very much, no doubt, that you are too
yoong?**
** On the contrary, I like very much to be young, I can
assore you,** said Julien, laughing at his uncle's whim-
■ieal reflections.
Antoine, defeated, began to walk up and down the
room again, with short, jerking steps ; again he paused,
and said to Julien, —
•• How much longer will yoo have to work? **
•• Two or three boors.**
•' Can I k>ok at the pictore?**
••If youchooee.**
•• Ah ah 1** he cried, •• that is not so bad ; that begins
to k>ok like something ; but yoo are painting all the baek-
mond, — where will yoo pot the name of the flower?
I want it in large gilt letters.**
ANTON I A, 71
*' Then it must not bo put anywhere ; it would spoil tho
effect."
^* You don't say so I I must bavo my namo, though 1 "
** Put it in largo, black Icttors, upon a medallion in
relief, above or below the gilt frame."
** That is a good idea, upon my word ! Make a chef-
d'oeuvre, and I will invite you to the ceremony of tho
baptism."
*^ Bah, a ceremony 1 "
** Yes ; the botanists of the Jardin du Boi are goin^^ to
breakfast with me to-morrow morning. I have invited
them, and they have accepted. I am going to have a
sort of fete ; and, as it tires me to sit here with my arms
crossed, doing nothing, I will return to my house and see
how things are going on. Take care of my lily ; don*t
let yourself be disturbed ; work without stopping ; I will
return in an hour."
Julien was working now with enthusiasm and rapidity ;
every stroke of his pencil seemed to transfer the life of
the wonderful plant to the canvas. Uncle Antoine was
struck by his aspect; he smiled, and, becoming a little
humanized, tapped the young man upon the shoolderi
«aying, —
^^ Courage, my lad, courage 1 Satisfy me, and you
will have no cause to regret it."
He went out ; but, instead of returning to his garden,
went mechanically to the hotel d'Estrelle. Solitude,
wealth, ennui and vanity, had weakened and half-mad-
dened the old man's mind, and a world of confused ideas,
— cheerful, gloomy, and audacious, — were whirling
wildly through his brain.
" I was wrong," he said, *' to confide my suit to that
foolish baroness. She performed her part badly, and
did not even mention my name ! She said that I was an old
plebeian, and that was all ; the little countess never im-
agined that the person referred to was a well-preserved
man whom she herself had praised for his good health
and good looks, — a man whom she knows to be generous
and great, and whose talents as an agricultural amateur
and producer of rare plants are not to be despised. I
7a ANTONIA.
^oaa/L end the aifidr one waj or the other : I will offer
Hjtelf, aad find oat whether I am to love or hate hor.**
He entered the hotel boldly, and asked to speak to
the eonntOM on business. She hesitated for a moment
whether to admit him. Knowing that he was whim-
sical, and thinkini( him a nnonomaniaCi she would have
p iefarr ed to liave Haroel present at the interview. But
she knew how sensitive her old neighbor was, and,
. iSMuring that she might injure Madam Thierry's interests
by olfeoding him, aUowed him to enter. Madam d*£9-
troUe was akme; but she would have considered it
absurdly prudish to feel alarmed about a tSte-&^tete
with an M, man, well known for the austerity of his
The rich man had called upon her prepared for battle :
he imagined that he would have to fight to obtain an in-
terview. When he found, on the contary, that he was
admitted without opposition, after two minutes delay,
when he saw that his beautiful neighbor received him
kindly and affably, although with a little reserve, his
courage abandoned him. Like all people who live in
the world of their own thoughts, unchecked and uncon-
trolled, no one could be bolder in forming plans. It was
his audacity that hod enriched him, and he confided in it.
But, as he had always acted from behind a curtain as
it were, he was as incapable of taking a step upon the
itage of social life, or of conversing with a woman, as
he would have been of commanding a ship, or conduct-
ing negotiations with the Algonquins. He grew pale,
stammered, put his hat on iJter taking it off, and, in
short, was so agitated, that Madam d*£strelle felt sur-
prised and disUessed, and was obliged to come to his
assistance br referring at once to the subject which she
supposed to be the object of his visit.
** So, my neighbor,'' she said kindly, ** we are at odds
about this un&rtunate pavilion, which I had hoped
would be the means of bringing us to a good under-
•taoding and making us friends. Do yon Imow that
I leel ukM scolding you, and that I consider you very
" I?"
ANTONIA. 73
** Oh, it is well known that I am a fool,** imliod An-
toine, morosely ; ** I hear it ao oAcn that I shall end bj
believing it."
** I only ask to be undeceivecl,^ replied Jnlio ; ** can joa
give me any good reason for accepting the sort of presenl
Uiat you offer me ? I defy yon to do so 1 "
** Yon defy me? Then you want mo to speak. The
reason is clear enough, — I feel an interest in you I ^
'^You are very good,** said Julie, with a smile, in
which there was a touch of irony, " but -« **
** It is just so, countess ; you are a person that one can-
not help thinking about, and so I thought about yoa, —
what the devil would you have? I said to myself, *It is
a pity that a person so, — a lady who,— a person of
good family, in a word, should bo in the hands of the
bailiffs. I am only a plebeian, but I am not such a miser
as the fine gentlemen and the fine ladies of her family.'
That b why I said what I did say ; but you mbundersteod
it all, which proves that you despise me/'
** You are mistaken in that I ** cried the countess ; ** de*
spise you for wanting to do a good action ? No I a hnn*
dred times no I It would be impossible."
" Then why refuse my offer? "
** Listen to me, Monsieur Thierry ; will you give me
your word of honor as an honest man that yon are per-
fectlv convinced of the sincerity, — the personal disinter*
estedoess, — of my conduct towards you?*'
** Yes, madam, I give you my word of honor. The
devil 1 do you suppose, otherwise, that I should ever have
come to sec you again ? "
** Very well, I accept your offer,'' said Julie, holding
out her band ; ** but upon one conditioui — that you will
give me back your friendship."
Old Antoine was completely beside himself when he felt
this little soft hand in his hard, dry palm. He had a sort
of vertigo ; and, as he did not know what to do with this
woman's hand,— to kiss it he would have thought an im-
propriety, and he dared not press it, — he let it drop, and
stammered out his thanks in a very confused manner, but
with heartfelt emotion.
^4 ANTONIA.
^ Sinee TOO treat me at if I were conferring a favor
'^^gffmjtmf said Madam d*£8trelle, **I warn you that
ahall become exacting. I realljr need onljr twenty thou-
francs for the present ; let me offer the other twenty
(H>m yog to Madam Thierry,**
^ No, DO I it cannot be I " said Antoine, losing his tem-
Er ; ** she would refuse. That woman detests me I I
vo just paid her a visit. She turned her back upon me,
went and hid in her garret.''
*^ Yoa most have wroi^ed her in some way, my neigh«
^ Never I K she tries to make yon think otherwise, —
lier say what she chooses, — I am an honest man.''
^ She has never said otherwise."
^ Has she never spoken to you about me ? Come now,
>iel me the truth, — upon vour honor."
** Upon my honor, never 1
** Then, —stop a moment ! — tell her to respect me as
ought, and don't talk about giving her money that
Iwlongs to you ; for, — the devil tiuLo mo, — if you make
modi of me, and don't blush to acknowledge my friend-
•hip, I will give her, — yes, I will give her a pretty
prtoent! I will buy her house at Sevres. There 1
What will you say to that? "
•'I wiU sav, M. Thieny," cried Madam d'£strelle,
deeply tooched, ** that you are the best of men 1 "
^The best, in truth?" cried the rich man, so flattered
that he was like a person intoxicated ; — '* the best, do
yoosay?"
*«Tes, — the best rich man that I know 1"
^ That is something worth while I Will you breakfast
at my house to-morrow with some savants, —^ some rtry
fiuDoos and learned men,— and witness a baptism?
Will TOO be godmother, and aooepi me as godfather?"
•^Tesl atwhathoor?"
^ At noon."
**! will go,— hot in the company of some lady, since
yoohave persoos at yoor boose whom I do not know. I
win go with—"
** My eister in4aw, I see what is ooming I "
ANTONIA. 75
" Very well, — do you forbid it? ••
** Forbid it? Do you kDow that yon talk at if I wero
your master?" he said, with a sort of myslerioas fiUuity.
** As if you wore my father? " replied Julie, frankly.
An undiaste old man woald have been wodndod by
this speecli, but Antoine was chaste in his folly ; we can
afilrm, positively, that he was not in love with Julie ; it
was the countess only who was the object of his passion.
Whether she was his adopted daughter, or his wife, mat*
tered little to him. Provided that ho could show her off
to his solemn company on the next day,— to the savants,
— Marcel, Julien, to Madam Thierry above all, and to all
his gardeners ; — - provided that he could see her leaning
upon his arm or seated at his table, talking to him with
filial friendship, without any fear of what the world
might say, — provided that all this might be, it seemed to
him that he w ould bo perfectly happy.
** And if I am not contented even then,** he thought, —
talking to himself about himself, with a sort of ineffable
tenderness, — '^ I shall have time enough to tame her, and
lead her to think about marriage afterwards ; and when
she has sacrificed her title to be my wife, we will see
then whether the name of Thierry the elder will not be
worthy to stand by that of my brotheri Thierry the
painter 1 ''
** Since you are so gracious,'' he said to Julie, " I will
be gracious also. I will do whatever you wish. I com-
mission you, for example, to give my invitation to Madam
Andr6 Thierry, and if she prevents you from keeping
your appointment to-morrow, tell her that I will never
pardon her in aU my life.''
*|I will take charge of her, my neighbor. Farewell,
until to-morrow ; have no fear 1 "
** Would it annoy you to say my friend t** replied
Antoine, whose tongue was loosened by hb secret hap-
piness.
^* It would not annoy me at all," replied Julie, laugh-
ing ; <* I will call you so to-morrow, if you keep your
" Y«a wiU <mU im M— pnblielj? "
76 ANTONIA.
— aod with all mj heart.^
The old man went away reeliop^ liko a dranken man.
la the ttreet ho talked to himself id a loud voice ; hie
ofM flaehodi and ho made emphatic gestures. The passers-
bj took him for an escaped lunatic.
Ho followed the wall of the hotel d'Estrelle mechanio-
alhri for his first idea was to return to the studio, in
order to see whether Julien was at work, and whether
his lilj was safe, Snddenlpr he remembered that the
Baroness tf Ancoort might ruin all his hopes, bjr revealiDg
to Uadam d'Estrelle the name of the suitor whose cause
she had espoused. Evidently Julie suspected nothing;.
she bad no reason to imagine that her old neighbor was
acting from an interested motive. Ho might gradually
lead her to woovgi him as her husbandi by impressing her
doly with his wealth and magnificence; but he had
wanted to go too fast, and had come very near spoiling
everything. Since the baroness was not opposed to him,
be must go to her house before doing anything else, tell
her how matters stood, and urge her to be silent. He
called a carriage that was passing, and ordered the coach-
man to drive to the hotel d'Ancourt.
Jnlio was deeply moved ; like every generous person
who has sought to inspire a good deed, and has carried
her point, she lost all sense of her own personality in her
sincere joy at what she had accomplished. Impatient to
announce the important news to Madam Andri, and
make her promise to be her chaperon at the breakfast at
the hotel Melcy, she threw a light mantle of violet silk
over her shoulders, and,— so utterly had she forgotten
herself, — ran towards the pavilion. She thought no
more of Jnlien than if he had never existed ; or, at all
events, did not remember that it was her duty to avoid
him. She had never clearly understood how serious a
matter this was ; and, in her eagerness to see his mother,
wo^ not probably have hesitioed, even if she had re*
memberedit. Bendes, she was alone. There was noone
in the drawingHPOom, no one in the garden. Would the
foees be seandaliied at her impra&nce ? Would the
ANTONIA. 77
nightiDgales err over the walls that Madam d'Estrelle
had entered a Louse where she might, periiaps, meet a
young man whom she had never seen ?
Julien, at this moment, had no time to he watching for
Julio's approach. lie was wholly absorbed in his work.
The lily could not promise to remain fresh and unchanged,
until he had given the last touch to his picture. Madam
Thierry was in her room with Marcel ; he had arrived
finally, and, after exchanging a few words with Julien,
had gone to converse with his aunt. He wanted to lec-
ture her, to make her confess, and to persuade her that
the cause of her dislike to M. Antoine ought to remain
concealed, as it had hitherto been, from the young artist.
Madam d*£strelle struck lightly at the door of the
pavilion. A great wagon, loaded with broken stones,
was passing at this moment in the street. The noise of
the wheels, the cries of the driver, and the cracking of
the whip, completely drowned her feeble knock. Eager
to SCO Madam Thierry before some surly message from
the whimsical Antoine had informed her of his plans, and
perhaps made her unwilling to agree to them. Madam
. d'Estrello opened the outer door boldly ; she opened a
second door, and found herself in Julien's studio, alone
and face to face with the young artist ; he had placed his
model in the light streaming from the window above this
door, and Julie entered in a blaze of glory ; it seemed as
if she had come to him in a my of sunshine.
Julien was so little prepared for this vision, that he
came very near falling, as if thunderstruck. The blood
rushed to his heart, and his face became whiter than M.
Antoine's lily. He could neither speak nor bow; ha
stood motionless, with his pallet in his hand, his ey%^
fixed, — absolutely petrified.
Did the beautiful countess experience any correspond-
ing emotion ? At the sight of this young man, whose
beauty was so faultless, — that type of bwiuty in which
the nobility of the lines is only exceeded by the intelli-
genoe of the expression, — what took place in her heart
and soul? Her first feeling was one of instinctive ra»
ipect; for Julien was not onlmown to her. She bad
yS ANTONIA.
bMund an aboat his liODeflt and self-eacriflcing X\h^ hia
patient indostij, at the same time so ardent and rep^lar,
his filial love, his noble sentiments ; she knew how well
be deserred the friendship and esteem of his devoted
firiends. She had sometimes felt a curiositjr to see him ;
and, either because slie considered it childish, or from a
▼ague presentiment that their meeting would be danger-
ous to her peace, had forbidden herself to yield to this
Whj investigate further? It is enough that her heart
fcdlj prepared for the reception of the sentiment that
to ffovem her life. She experienced a terrible shock.
The agitation by which Julien was paralysed overcame
Imt alM, and she remained for a moment as silent and
motionlefls as he.
If any one had seen this beautiful couple, just as they
bad come from the hand of God, in eome region inacces-
sible to social prejudices, meeting under the simple and
l^orious conditions reigning in an unfallcn world, they
would have said, without hesitation, tliat they had been
destined for each other ; that God bad made tliis superb
man for this charming woman, this tender and true
woman for this ardent and proud man. In Julie, all
was grace, tenderness, and sweetness ; Julien was full
of passion and magnanimity. When they beheld each
other at last, in the radiance of the May sunshine, humid
with the perfumes of a new life, each of them, as with
an irresistible cry of love, pronounced, in their eouls,
the names thai destiny (as if they had been intended to
bave only one name) had given them, — i/ui^e, Julien I
Upon either side a great effort was necessary, before
they could remember &e social barriers by which they
were separated*
** Ah me 1 *^ thought Julie ; ** this is the young painter.
X thought he was a demi-god.**
**Alasl^ said Julien to himself, **this is the great
bi47« I thought she was half myself.''
The countess was the first to bow, and ask whether he
was DOi IL Julien Thierry. He bowed deeply, saying,
with aa eipression of hypocritical doubt,—
ANTONIA. 79
«« Madam the CoonteM cTEstreDe? *
Mockerj! As if these questions were n s ce e w y to
enable tlion to understand eadi otlier.
** Has your mother gone oat?** said the eoontess*
** No, madam. I will go and call her.**
And Jolien did not stir ; his feet seemed nailed to the
floor.
^ She is with mj cousin, Marcel Thierry," he added.
** Shall I ask him also to come down and recdve theo
orders—?"
** Do not disturb either of them I If you will show
me the way, I will go to your mother^s room. But
wait," she sdded, seeing that Jnlien was incapable of
moving; *Mt will be letter, perhaps, to prepare your
mother. I did not see her yesterday ; she may not be
well."
*' She is a little unwell, it is true."
*^Thcn, — yes, you must prepare her for a surprise,—
an agreeable surprise, God be praised I — but one by
which she might be agitated. Make her understand,
gently, that I bring great and good news in regard to the
house at Sevres."
Julien could not resist his desire to thank Madam
d'Estrelle. Uis presence of mind had somewhat re*
turned. He blessed her for what she had done for his
mother, in terms as heartfelt as they were delicately
expressed* Julie was deeply moved, but not surprised.
With his reputation, and his irresistible face, Julien
could not have spoken otherwise. After this the ioo
was broken, and all ceremony forgotten. Distrust would
have seemed a mutual insult. They talked together for
a moment with extraordinary ease and familiarity.
** It affords me happiness to have rendered your mother
a service," said Julie, ** you know this well. She must
have told you how well I love her I "
^ *| You are right to love her ; you will never repent
giving her your friendship. Her heart is worthy of
yours."
'*! wish I could feel that I was worthr of her confi-
dence. Oh| she has told me about you f I know that
8o ANTONU.
joa worship her, and Ood will bless joa for jour deroted,
fiialloTe.''
^ He has blessed me alreadji smoe 70a tell me thai I
deserve His blessing.''
*« I ten 70a so most heartflj. Whj should I hesitate
to saj so? There are so few who are whoUj wwihj of
^There are those whose esteem is so great a favor,
ethal to obtain it 70a would mcotipi the hate and scorn of
flJl the rest of the world.**
**0h I 70a onl7 sa7 that out of politeness ; 70a do not
know me safficientl7— **
**Toa are mistaken, madam,— I know Tonr goodness,
IhenoUenessofToar soul, the kindness of Tonr heart. I
could not fafl to understand 70U unless I were both deaf
and blind. And 70U, who scatter blessings upon all who
surround 70U, cannot feel surprised to have inspired one !
whom 70U do not know with humble admiration and
gratitude."
It seemed to Julie that the ver7 ^^ *^® breathed was
00 fire. She tried, mechanically, to recover herself, but
b»l not the courage to withdraw irom thu dangeroos con-
venation.
««Will 70U also be glad,** she said, **to regain the
house where 70U were brought up ? "
^ I shall be glad for my poor mother's sake, most cer*
tainlv ; but not upon my own account.''
•« Do 70U like Paris so well 7 '*
*« No, not at all ; — but — "
Julien*s kindling e7es, darkened b7 a cloud of emotion,
expressed cloarl7 enough what he thought. Julie under-
stM>d only too well. She tried to sj^ak of something
else ; she looked at the artist's sketches, she praised his
talent, — that talent which had been revealed to her at the
same time with his love ; -^she tried to tell him that she
understood his art, but, in fact, it was his passion that she
understood, and every word which they uttered betrayed
their real preoccupauon. The agitation of the one was
communicated to the other; both became so confused
thai thej scarcely knew what they were sa7ing| and
ANTONIA. 8l
finally Madam dTstrelle tnroed to IL AnUrfWi lOj, ao
as to havo aomctbiog to talk about.
*' What a beautiful flowor I ^ abo said ; ^ aad how
iragrant it is I **
** Do yoti like it? " cried Jnlien. And, with the impet-
uosity of a lover intoxicated with joy, ho broke the stalk
of the Anionia Thicrrii^ and offered the superb stem to
Julio 1
The countess had no idea of the interest attaching to
this plant ; she had not seen Marcel for several days ; andy
as Madam Tliierry never mentioned her brotha>iii>]AW
when she could help it, she had not heard it spoken of.
Invited to a baptism on the following day at the betel
Melcy, she had concluded, naturally, that the object of
M. Antoine's solicitude was the child of some retired
gardener. She was far enough from imagining thai
Julicn, in breaking this flower, severed all ties with bis
uncle, and cast his whole future, — a future, perhaps, of
wealth and prosperity, — at the feet of his idol.
She uttered a cry of terror and surprise, however, at
the artist's rash act.
*^ Ah, man Dieu I " she said ; ** what have you done?
Your model?**
'^ I have floishod,*' replied Julien, eagerly.
'^ No, you have uot fiaishcd ; I can see that pkinly I *'
'*I will finish it without a model; I know it by
heart 1 "
For an instant, love of his art resumed its dominion
over him ; and, as he cast upon the lily a last glance of
intellectual possession, Julie replaced it upon its stem,
and said gayly and gracefully, with careless ease and self-
forgctfulncss, -—
'' I will hold it, — finish I it will not fade immediately.
Come, make haste 1 Your picture is so beautiful 1 I
shall never forgive myself for having interrupted you*
Work,— IwUhitr
'' You wish it?*' said Julien, distractedly,
i There was a second piece of canvas behind his picture ;
> this he seised, and, working with ardor, with /ury^ he
1 aketched aad painted the deUeate and lovely hand of
?. 6
\
•31
Sa ANTONIA.
MidttB d'Eitnlle. Tbe lil/ nudo no progrou. Julie,
•MMMigfa alw know it not, wu holding it in Tain, wliilo
WMtiog nntil it ^ovld bow it* proud liood novor to be
lifted ngftin.
Ohf wkIo Antoine, where wen jrou wbilo snch b crime,
witbrnit reowne end without terror, wna boing conunit-
Md* onder tbe 070 of ft sleeping or nuliciona Providence ?
A elicit Bonnd upon the ■tairciue recalled Julio to
hmilfj it wu Unreel, who wu coming to tell Jalicn
thnt hie mother hnd consented to aeo H. Thicny 00 his re-
tan. Undamd'EstreUoiUhnmodofbeingBurpriMdalone
wilk Um nitist, nod on terms of such strange fumilioritjr,
ptaaied tbe stem of tho lil; hurriedly in liio light, moist
«uib of tlu TMO. The ^nfonM did not seem aware of
what hnd occuirod, nnd romninod fresh and Iwautiful.
Unreel enlered, and look no notice of tho catastrophe.
The preacDce of the coantess surprised him suOlciently ;
tbe latler was exceedingly disconcerted at meeting him,
and Julien perceived tliis. lie immediately conquered
bis emotion, with a manly effort, and informed Marcel
tlkot tho counless had just colcrod, nnd wlshcil to spcnk to
kii mother. At the same time he offered Julie a chair,
H if she hod not yet hcon scaled ; and, bowing respect'
flilly, wont to inform 3Iadam Thierry of hcrpresonco,
Uadam d'Estrelle was innnitoly grateful to tho artist
for bis preseoeo of mind. Tliis slight indication showed
her that sho was not dealing with a child, eapablo of
compro m ising her by bis awluirdneu and simplicity, but
with a man, — watchful, and armed at oil points, — ready
lo defend her from every danger, to preserve her, if
neeesserr, from ber own rashness. She loved him with
bw wboM heart ; and she felt that bn was tho master of
bar destiny, siitee there was already a secret between thom,
lo be concealed from Ibe scmtinising gaao of their mi^
taal friends.
While aba was Ririog Mareel a r^nd reaomi of ber
eoawsatioBwithli. Antoina,JnUeo entered his motber'a
room. His face was so radiant, Ibat she cried, —
•*J(MiKs«/lM>wbeastiAa7oa sMto^ay. What baa
ANTONIA. 83
** Madam d'Eatrollo is bolow,^ said Jalicn ; ** she brings
you joy and coosolation. Sho bos portoadedlL Anloino
to purchoM your honso. Quick I put on your e^p, and
como and thank your good angoL^
Surpriflod and delighted as Madam Thierry woOf she
was at the same time deeply grieved. Her mother's eye
could no longer be deceivcni : she saw plainly the repressed
passiou concealed by Julien*s apparent firanknessi mod
was so moved that she burst into tears,
*^How now I how now! what is the matter?^ eriod
Julion. ** My poor mother, you who have always been so
courageous in misfortunoy can you be so overcome by
joy? No matter I Let your cap hang, since yon cannot
fasten it, and como as you are. Madam d'Estrelle will
like to see you sJied such tears as these ; they will not
trouble her, —como I "
** Julicn I Julicn I I am not weeping for joy alone ;
my heart is oppressed by sorrow, and, above all, by
fear."
** You are afraid that you will have to thank M. An*
toinel Nonsense, mother! That is too childi^,— •
como I "
Madam Thierry was ready to faint. Julien was al-
most angry with her, for her emotion was making him
lose the precious moments, — seconds tliat he might have
passed by Julio's side. Murcel, who was deliglited with
the good news that the countess hod brought, became im-
patient, in his turn, at his aunt's delay, and came up
stairs to hasten her. Julio remained alone in the studio,
therefore, for several moments.
These moments, — swifUy as they passed, — counted
in after years like an age in her life, for they brought her
a divine revelation ; the light flashed into her soul in a
single daxzling flame. ** Your happiness is found," said
an inward voice, endowed with sovereign authority ; *^ it
is here.^ A devoted love, —a simple, retired, domestic
life ; — it is this, and this alone, that can miJce you happy.
Julien's mother experienced this happiness during the
whole period of her youth. Intercourse with the world
and wealth did not odd to her felicity. They ilimSnS^td
ANTONIA.
H nUlier, bj withdrawing her from her domestic life.
Forget the worldi — it is worth joar while I Have done
lorerer with a past which has misled yoa, and brooght
joa into conflict with yoursolf. Reconcile yourself to your
origin,— derived from the middle classes far more than
firom Um nobilitr ; with yonr conscienccy which reproaches
joa finr having been carried away by a desire for worldly
glofji and for having yielded to the throats of ambitious
parents; seek the grace of God, who abandons the
woridly-minded ; be true, be strong, — like this young
man who worships you, and who has just revealed to you,
in a sin^ glsAce, the grandest, the noblest passion that
70a will ever inspire."
^ While listening to this mysterious voice of her own
soul, Julie gased around her, and was surprised to fool
lier agitation succeeded by a sense of olivine repose.
Tliis was due, in part, to a very simple, natural phe-
nomenon. Julie was short-sighted ; and in this room, so
* much smaller than the apartments to which she was ac-
customed, she could see, in spite of her defective vision,
all the details of every object that surrounded her. The
|Mivilion Louis XIII. was a very humble abode; but,
m spite of its simplicity, it was fitted up with artistic
taste and elegance. The building, in itself, was well-
proportioned. In the deep and large embrasure of the
window, as in a little sanctuary, the widow had placed
her arm-chair, her spinning-wheel, her candle-stand, and
her footstool, — giving this part of the studio the aspect
of a Flemish interior ; the rest of the room had been
tliorooghly repaired, although with the strictest economy.
The wainscoting was painted my, and was perfectly
plain, except for a few panels, whose lines were straight
throughout, but harmoniously proportioned; the ceiling.
• was white, and, although not very high, it was not so low
as to be oppressive ; above each door was an oval gar-
land carved in wood, of quiet leafage, and painted, like
the headings of the panels, of a darker gray than the rest
of the woodwork. Two or three valuable flower and
finiit«ieeei, by AndrA Thierry, several sketches, and
two Uttk stodiee, by Julian, hong upon the walls. On
ANTONIA. 85
a bracket, q>po6ito a mirror, stood a largo vase of Booea
porcelain, full of natural flowers and long Tines, grace-
full/ arranged, and falling to tho floor. A little car^
before the sofa, two or three easels, shells, boxes of in*
sects, statuettes and engravings upon a largo table, phun
oak furniture, and a harp, — the onl^ costlj object to
be seen, — its worn, gilt strings glittering in a dark coi^
ner, — completed the simple interior, Ccrtainlj there was
nothing elegant or luxurious in all tliis, but an air of
exquisite neatness and taste gave a charm to the quiet
room, and the soft,drcam7 light made you feel inclined to
reverie. The lilacs growing in thick mosses so near tlie
house, and the curtains before the lower part of tho win*
dows, made the studio a little dark. But there was somo*
thing in this greenish light that was strangely poetical, and
a sentiment of holy meditation seemed floating in the at-
mosphere, that penetrated Julie's very soul. What more
would be necessary than such a retreat as this, —so
modest, so humble, — to enable her to enjoy spiritual hap-
piness, —the eternal ecstacy of a true moral life ? What
did Julio care for sumptuous furniture, etagdres loaded
with a thousand baubles that she never looked at, —blue
ceilings spangled with stars of gold over her head. Gobe-
lins carpets under her feet, Sevres vases to hold her bou-
quets, liveried lackeys to announce her friends, boxes of
Chinese fans, and caskets full of diamonds? They hod
amused her only for a day ; can playthings distract a weary
heart ? Julien's simple and laborious life, — his touching
devotion to his mother, — his secret, humble love, — aa
he himself had called it, — was there not something in
all this purer and greater than.she could ever hope to find
in the life and devotion of a frivolous or blase $eigneur t
A sparrow that Julien had tamed, and which lived in
freedom upon the neighboring trees, flew into Ibe studio,
and lighted familiarly upon her shoulder. She was
amazed ; in this simple incident she saw for a moment a
prodigy, — an ancient augury, — au omen of happiness
or victory I She was really intoxicated.
Madam Thierry entered the room at last, in the utmost
agitation. She had insisted upon being allowed to qpeak
86 ANTONIA.
to tht eonotoM alooo. She throw horsolf at her feet, and,
obliged bjr her to Hae, spoke as follows : —
^ YoQ MPO good as an angel, my beautiAil neighbor.
Maj God bless joa a thousand times I But I must show
70a mj grief as well as mr J07 ; my son, my dear Julioo,
will be lost unless he qniekljr renounces the hope of over
teeing joa again. He loves you, madam, — loves you
distnustedly. When he told me that he had only seen you
from a distanee, he was deceiving me : he sees you ^ywy
day ; he gates at you by stealth, — he intoxicates himself,
kiDs hiinself by gasing upon you. He no longer eats,
BO longer sloeps ; be is sad, his cyoA are hollow, he is
eoDSomed by fever. He has never loved, — but I know
hem be will love,— how he loves already. His is a
natoro AiU of enthusiasm, faith, devotion. Discourage
Uffif madam, if it is possible. Do not look at him,—
do not speak 'to him, — never see him again. Have
pi^ upon him and upon me. Never come to our house
again ; absence, perhaps, will cure him. If it docs not
core him, I do not know what I shall do to keep from
dying of grief.*'
Madam Thierry's voice was stifled with sobs ; and these
•obs telling so eloquently of the sincerity of her grief,
fell upon Julie's heart like a blow. Her dream of happi-
ness,- must it not vanish before this maternal despair?
The delicious reverie by which she had been lulled to for-
getfulness, was it not a fantastic delusion, at wliich she
herself would smile as soon as she crossed the threshold
of her hotel? Had she reallv resolved to forsake the
world forever, and throw herself into the arms of a man
whom die had just seen for the first time ? It was absurd
to think of such a thing ; and Madam Thierry was a
thousand times right in regarding it as impossible. Julie
made an effort to enter into her state of feeling, and to
throw off her momentary infatuation ; but the charm of
that moment of madness must have been potent indeed,
tx the idea of submitting again to reason seemed to
lend her heart; and, instead of lepl^ng to the poor
with digni^ and good sense, — mstoad of trying to
AJfrOJf/A. 87
reoMitrA her, — aho threw htnaU ioto her AriBs, •od, lilw
hor. burst into tout.
Hodom Tbion7 wu to aurpritod bf tboM t«u«, tbU
■hofoltni if alio would go franiia, 61m dorod notwk
tho couDloM to explain lier amotion, and, moreorcr, aba
bad no timo to do »o ; Julien and Marcol eoterad.
"Coma, m7 dear mother," Julien said, '^jrouarociTiu
alto^tber too macb. You ba\-e forgotteB lo thouE
Madam d'Estrelle, I am anrot and to ■rraoge Toor plooa.
Marcel baa jnst told me that yoa moat exprHS TOUT grat-
itude to M. Tbiorrf in poraoo, and that joa nuiat go 1^
morrow to bis Iiousc, »o oa — "
Julio bad turned her face to tho window, and was trying
to conceal and dr^r her (oora without oltractiog obsorrap
lioD ; JulioD, who hod been watcliiug her, saw at this
moment what siie was about. He reprcsaod a cnr, and
iavoluntarily took a slop lowords hor. Marcel, who
pcrcoivod the alraago agitntioa of tho two women, and
who could only aupposo that Madam Thiony was audbr-
iog from a neirous attack, and hod said soBwthing to
agitate the couutcaa, took up Julion'a intermptad scntanca)
so OS to renew the conversation.
" Yes, yea," ha said ; " we must go to-morrow, so oa to
witnosa the bikptiam of—"
Marcol waa like Julien ; ho remained with his oyes
fixed and mouth open, unable to articulate another word ;
for, happening to glauco, not upon Julie, but apon the
phiDt that ha woa about to name, ho saw it reduced to
a cluster of bulbs and a broken stem, damp with the
sap ooaing slowly forth, and falling in great drops, like
teora.
"Whereisit?" he cried, atupefiod, "Whathaveyoa
done with it? Great God, Julien, what hare you dose
with the AiUonia t "
No one replied. Madam Thierry looked at Juliea;
he gaicd steadily at Madam d'Eetrollo, while Madam
d'Eunlle, who waa igooraat of the whole affair, did not
know what to think ofthe lawyer's alrange alarm.
"What are jon looking for?" she said, rising. And,
at the rose, the ^ntoiiM, which, when A» had been
38 ANTON I A.
left nlooe in the studio, sho had taken from the vase
and placed tenderly upon her lap, fell at her feet.
Mti^^in Thierry understood at ouce the real state of
the cafe. Maml was not 00 clear-sighted.
**Ah, madam,'' he criedi **to any one else who*had
caused this accident, I should say that she had ruined us I
But what can I say to you? And, after all, why need we
he afiraid of the consequences of your act? Uncle An-
toioe will neTer Tisit his anger upon yon I You did not
know what you were doing ; Julien did not tell you ! ''
^'UDdouhtedly,'' said Madam Thierry, ** Julien ex-
plained nothing to our benefactress ; but she must see for
liertelf that ereiy one in this house is not reasonable, und
that, while wishing to serve us, she runs the risk of
aggraTating our sorrows-—"
** It Is yon, mother, who are not reasonable," cried
JttUen, Tehemently. ** Really, I do not understand you
to-day I Ton are too much excited ; your words betray
Toor thoughts. It seems to me, that instead of tlianking
lladam d*EstreUe, you hare boon imparting to her absurd
fimdes— "
JoUen scolded his mother, who began to cry again.
ICareel, seeing Madam d'Estrelle's astonishment, took her
apart, and in three words gave her the key to the mys-
tery, and at the same time the palpable proof, as it were*
of the young artist's ardent passion. Deeply moved at
irst, she collected her strength, and recovered her prcs-
enoe of mind, to avert the blow that threatened the
fiunilT.
^ Leave it all to me," she said to Madam Thierry, with
aseomed cheerfulness ; ** I will take everything upon my*
self; it was I who committed the fault, and it is my duty,
therefore, to repair it."
^ The &nlt 1 what fault?" cried Julien.
^ Tes, yes ; I took a fancy to the flower and beggeil
jott lor it. No! that Is not it; how dull I am! It
•was I who picked It, yest — a foolish fancy in a mo-
Bent of abstraction I — Von were not here. I am near-
js((hled, awkwafd I I will axplam It all to your uncle.
ANTOHIA, 89
i/bfi Die* I what do 700 nppoM bo wiU do? H« inQ
Dot beat ma. He ii not to wickod 1 "
"Alas I" fail! Madam Thierr7, " iiDfortaiuUilj be is
T017 wi<^od wboD he is oSendod ; and if b* know that
Julien had committed this Bacrileje — "
" It really was JnUeD, then 7 " »aid Uaree), MtonnJad
in his turn. " It is incomprehensible I "
*> Certninlf it vol I, and I alone," replied JnlicD {
" then is nothing strange in that — "
" Ton an mistaken I " said Marcel, in a low Tolee, '
pomiTiDg, at lost, tbo real canse of the misfoitnoe. " Toa
are too andacions, toj lad ; and joa must bava bacoaM
both hcartlesa and frirolous, to bare sacrifioad tbaa your
moibor'i future, and your own, without meotioninf that
Madam d'EetrclIe is too good, and ought ratber to bare
put you in your right place."
" Silence, Marcel, silence I " said JuUon. " Ton do ,
not koow what you ore talking about; yon do not na>
dorstand— "
" I understand only too well," said Marcel j " and, on
my honor, I am like your mother now, — I say that
you have lost your senses — "
This diologuo was carried on in the recess of the
window, whore Marcel hod ted Julico, whilo the two
ladies stood together by the despoiled vase, talking ia low
voices, and without well knowing what they were say-
ing. Madam Thierry tried mcchanicnlly to plant. anew
the stem of the decapitated lily, and Madam d'Estrelle
■ought to consolo her in vain, for bur greatest tronblo
was not the loss of the Anlonia, but rather the storm of
' passion that had led to its loss. Suddenly Julian, who was
in the habit of watching the curtain, and glancing at the
crerico through which ho saw into the garden, slortod
violently. Seising Marcel by the arm, and motioning
bim to be silent, he said in a whisper, —
"Be quielf fi>r thalere of Ciodl Soma one is Us*
taning."
IV.
SOME OM WM lialaniDg, ia fust, aod it wu too Ute to ba
nlmL UdcIo Aaloioo had bewd eTBiything. How
ba csma to b« ipriiig ftbout in Hadun d'EatroUe'a gar-
dan, «« ahall toon Icani. Marcel followed Jalicn'a eye,
aaw tha cravica in the cartain, and, leasing forward in
bia turn, aaw CroqaimitaiBe on tbe watch. Ho left the
window, and warned Mr**"*" d'Eitrelle. For a moment,
tbaj talked in pantomime. The/ had not yet decided
what to do, wban Antoinai no longer bearing their Toiceai
atmdi at the garden door.
Thii arriral waa lomething like that of the eUtue
in Jiaa Gtoranni, Julieo woa going promptly to open
the door, when Madam d'Eatrelle remembered that her
' pnaenca might-give rite to tome ridiculons scene, and
that her abeenea would, withont any fail, bo made the
oecaaion of a atormy outbreak. Sbe determined npon
her conraein on instant: detained Julien, by authori-
tatively laying her hand npon his arm, and. signing to
him and the othera not to more, went into (be boll,
opened the door herself, and stood face to face with M.
Antoine. Although be had prepared bia part, ho was a
little snrpriaod, — ha who imagiiiod that ho waa going to
aorprise OTeiy one.
"What — yon, M. AnloSnal" said Julie, pretending to
be perfectly astonished. "What are yoa doing here?
Too came back to the hotel, then f Who told yon where
X was? and what pat it into your head to cross my gar>
dsa?"
Withont waiting for his answer, she took the horticul*
tnriM's arm and led him quite a distance from tha
CriUoo, to the edge of a Uttla lake In the centre of tha
rn fronting the hotel.
**Bttt — I waa going to the pavilion," stammered K.
Astotna.
**I •oppoaa so, sinca I found yon at the door."
** I waa going— witbvaiy good iotantieoa; bnt — "
ANTONIA.
9«
** Who doabts it ? Certainly not I, mj firiend."
** Ah I Now you talk as I want to have yoa I So —
you would like to talk to me alonOy -~ I see, — it is just
the same with me ; I want to tell you about an idea that
I have— "
** Sit down upon this bench, my neighbori I will listen
to you ; but, first of all, you must hear mOf fi>r I bare a
confession to make.^
** All right — I know what it is ; you have picked my
lily?"
^* Ah, man Dieu I How did you know that? "
** I heard a few words, and I guessed the rest. Why
did you break the poor flower? Could you not haro
asked me for it? Could you not have waited until to-
morrow ? I intended to give it to you/'
^'But — supposing I did not do it on purpose?^
** You did not do it on purpose ? "
Julio felt that she was blushing, for Antoine was look-
ing at her attentively, and the expression of irony in his
litUo black eyes was at the same time bitter and tendor.
**No indeed,'* she answered, hoping to save herself
by a Jesuitical device ; '* the accident happened against mr
will I "
^* Good, good ! " replied Antoine, who was still gazing
searchingly into her face ; ** say that, — I prefer that."
*• You prefer that, — what ? "
** Yes, mordie I Come, abandon the bad cause that
you want to plead. Condemn, frankly, tlie folly and
treachery of Master Julien, and leave me to punish him
as he deserves."
** But what makes you think that M. Julien? — "
^'* Ah, do not try to lie," cried M. Antoine, starting up
with a bound, his little body quivering with passion and
indignation ; *^ it does not suit you to lie ; you do not
know how I And, besides, it is useless ; I tell you that
I hoard, and, as I am not a fool, I have come to the con-
clusion Julien finds you to his liking ; and the rascal
would like to tell prou so, if he dared I "
** Monsieur Thierry, what are you saying?"
^^What am I saying?— lam stating things aa tliey
9»
ANTONIA.
are. UjMleiiioiselle da MeaO was m prood as jba can
be; mj brother Andri told her his fine stories, and
•Dded by making himself understood. All men and all
women are of the same clay I Come, acknowledge the
tmth ; do yon like Jnlienor not, — yes or no?"
^ Moosienr Thierry, if I did not know your good heart,
the disagreeable tone of yonr conversation would disgust
Bie I Please to speak differently, or I will leave you/'
^ Oh, now you are angry I You remombcr vour pride,
and are going to turn your back upon mo. Why? It is
noi your affidr I Julian has committed a foUy, — let him
pay the penalty.**
^ No, Monsieur Thierry, it was my fault, — I am tlie
anfortonate cause of the accident ; if I had not admired
and praised the flower indiscreetly,— -he considered him-
self obliged to offer it to me, — politeness — "
** Bad reasons, bad reasons, my beautiful lady I The
scoundrel knew perfectly well that I would have thrown
the flower, the plant, the garden, and the gardener into
the bargain, at your feet. If ho did not know it, ho
ought to have guessed it ; and, anyhow, he had no right
to play the generous with my property ; it was a rape,
an abuse of confidence, and a theft. lie may eat his
fingers for the rest of his life ; and his mother will loam
what it coats to have brought up a son to play the courtier
improperly with great ladies."
** On, my neighbor," cried Madam d'Estrelle, in great
distress, and quite out of patience, ** you are not going to
withdraw your favor from them ; you are not going to
make it seem as if I had lied, — I, who placed you upon a
pedestal ; you are not going to break the bond of friend-
ship thai we formed tonlay? For a flower more or less
in your collection, you would not- cause so much unhap-
piness? You are too rich to be troubled by a loas that
can so easily be repaired."
^ It is easy for you to talk I There are some, things
that millions cannot replace ; which a man of taste ra-
gards as aitogothar priceless."
**Ah, Moa IKia/ Moai>itii/ Who oonld have sup-
posed soeh a thing ?**
ANTONIA. 93
** Jalieo know it.'*
«' No, it is impossible I ''
*« I tell you thftt ha knew it."
** Thea ho is crasj : bat it is not his moChii^s fiudt ;
sho was Dot thoro/'
** It is his mother's fault. She encounges him to lov«
you, sho fawns upon you, so as to lead yon to sacrifiea
yourself, as sho did for her husband.**
*^ No I I swear to you tlmt you are mistakeiii ICoih
siour Thierry I She is desperate — "
** About what? Ah I you acknowledge thai she has
talked to you about it, and that you know the feelings of
the young man.**
Madam d'EstrcUe struggled in vain. All the pmdenoa
of her sex, all tho pride of her rank, all her natural tact
and knowledge of tho world were shipwrecked, as it wero^
upon tho brutal, straightforward logic of the old man.
Sho was caught in a vise; and felt ashamed, awkward.
uDmasked, without resources. What should she do?
order him out of her presence, and hare done fbr-
over with this rude vulgarian, and his odious questions ?
But that would bo abandoning tho cause of the poor
Thierrys, and giving thorn up to his vengeance ; she felt
that she ought rather to restrain her indignation, defend
herself as well as she could, and submit to being humili*
ated by his most misplaced admonitions.
'* It seems," she said, with melancholy resignation,
** that I committed a great fault in going to the pavilion,
and yet my intention was most inuoccnt. I had never
seen M. Julien Thierry, I was overjoyed by your gen*
erons promises, and wont to make the heart of his poor
mother glad ; I am well punbhed for, having been so
enthusiastic about you, M. Thierry, since you think you
have a right to scold mo, and to demand an explanation
of tho most innocent, if not tho wisest, stop that one
woman ever took for tho benefit of another."
** And who says that I blame you ? " replied M. Antoine,
at the same time softened and irritated by her appeal ; *^ I
condemn no one, except the real eulprits. Do you know
what would have happened, if I had entered suddenl/i
^
ANTONIA.
Uaster Juliea was breaking mj lily? I should >
iroken iiim. Tas, as traly as I tell you so, I would
kNM iU Here Is a caoe that would have split his
r's bead for him.''
\ old maa's wicked and excited expression alarmed
A d'EsCrelle; reaUr afraid of him, she looked
1 iondoiitarilj, as if to seek protection in case she
1 beeome the object of his rage. Just then there j
tiemidoas moTcmeni in the thick foliage surround-
M bendi; it was onlji perhaps, a bird hopping
amid the branches, but she felt a vague sense of
o, IL Aotoine,** she resumed, with courageous
Bess, ** you will never make mo believe that jou I
vricked man, or that you would behave cruoUj to
ie« Ton must blame mo alone for this accident.
me, — jou have a right to do 80. I will promise
'hat I have already promised myself, that I will
again enter the pavilion. What can I do more?
teUmel"
this moment the foliage stirred a little more vio-
aad Julien's tame sparrow, like a messenger
om him to implore her pardon, came and lighted
Hadam d*£strelle's shoulder. Moved by this tri-
ncideat more than she cared to acknowledge, she
iit firiendly little animal in the hollow of her hand,
sort of tenderness.
am I ^ said M. Antoine, whose piercing vj^ seemed
less the power of divination. ^* That is a strange
nion I Does it belong to you?''
ea," replied Julie, who feared that his vengeance [
t Julien woidd fall upon the poor bird, if he knew /^
was his.
tame sparrow I It is an udy beast, and one that
great deal of mischief. If it were not yours —
lUea give it to you ? " '
lere again I Ton think of nothing but Julien I " ^
ICadam d*£streUe, losing patience, ** and I really
andenlaiid the strange turn that our conversa*
la takes. I am very aony that I went to the
ANTOyiA. 9S
paTilioa; I regret excoodinglr the accident that hu
occurred. How can I repair it? WiU you not tall ma
tbnt, instead of voandins me with all thcio luguat iaaia*
uatioQs?"
" Do jaa wish mo to tell you?"
" Yes I did I not promiM to go to a family foatiral at
your liouM to-morraw7 "
"The baptism of my poor Aniw^iat That ia done
with. Tho chad is dead, or at Icust disfigund. I must
invito my gacsta to a burial. And, t>csidoB, it no longar
auitB me to invito Madnm Andrj, and to pretend to ba
friendly with hor eon — at least, unloM — "
Mnuam d'Estrollo iinaginod that the rich man had re-
pented of his munidconcc, and wanted, perhaps, to reduce
tho sum that ho had offered for iho pavilion.
" Speak, speak I " elw cried eagerly ; " I will agree to
anything that can make you amends and consolo you."
There was no limit to M. Antoioe'a vanity. He had
■een Madnm d'Ancourt on hour before, and she, out of
spite against Julie, had inflamed his imagination, and
encouraged him in his audacious hopes. Ho hod ro-
turned, intending lo offer himself. Not finding Julie in
Iho drawing-room, ho hod been so bold as to follow her
into tho gordcQ. Tho incident of the broken lily hurried
forward the inovitablo event. His folly had reached a
climax, — ho declared himself.
" Mfldum," ho said, " you drive me to Ibo point, with
your pretty words and sweet manners ; if you are offended
at what I say, it is your own fault. Consider a little 1
You are not rich, and I know that you were not bom
upon the steps of a throne. I do not eonsidoryou proud,
either, sinco you go to the studio of an insignificant
painter, and accept his homage, —at ray expense I A-
ridiculouB story I bntno matter. Laugh at it, but let ua
end by being reasonable. Julien lias good ancestors
upon his mother's side, but he is my nephew, norerlholaas ;
— ~he is a plebeian. Do you despise him for that?"
" No, certainly 1 "
"Hia fault, then, ia that he ia poor? Bnt snppoao
^ ANTONIA.
h«iru ridi, Tflr^ ridi, — ooma, what woald jroa wr to
luBlbeD?"
** Yon want to giro him s fortooe, na that I nuij many
Uk?" aaid Madam d*£atnlle, in « lort of atupor of
*• Who Mid anything of tha kind ? "
** Excoae ma, — I thonghi — "
" Too thought that I waa making yon a ywy sillj
propoaition. What does an artiit amount to 7 Supposo
I aboold giro him a fortnne, would the money I havo
canied elerate him in yoor eyes? Those who have
caned oat their own deslioj, who have shown (hut tboy
d eaw T O respect by the talent thoy hare diaplaynd in bnsi-
■eaa, are tha ones who deserre consideration. Come,
70a understand me perfectly well. I nm ofTorin^* you a
good man, a large fortune, and a name that has mads
■ome noise in the world ; a man who will fulfil all your
wtshea during his life, and will leave you alt liia properly
aAer his death ; a man who has neither mistresses, nor
{Ocgitimato children, nor cares, nor responsibilities of
•ay kind ; and, finally, a man who will be your gmnd-
frther, and whom no one will accuse you of selecting out
of caprice and gallantry. Yon will show your good sense
•nd dclica^, on the contrary, by clioosing him, for you
bars debts, — more debts than property ; and, if Marcel
•alcalalea well, he cannot give you much encouragement.
Beflect, ihareforo I If you say no, you will bo certain to
meet with great misfortunes, while every one will honor
jnm for freeing jooraelf from your embarrassments by a
naaonaUe marriage. You seom to bo ttrj much sur-
prised ; and yet your friend the baroness gave you to
«a)lerstaad — bat she did itot (ell yon tho amount, pcr>
bapo?"
** Fits millions, is it not?" said Jnlie, who had grown
pale and banghty. " You are the person to whom she
/afai'iuJ, and yon are speaking of yourself ? "
"What if I am? Uoea the idea shock you ? Does It
flAodyoa?"
.,**No, Uonataor nueny," replied Jolie, with a an*
ANTONIA. 97
preme elSbrt ; ** I fod veiy much- honorod by yoiir oflbr»
but— ••
'* But what? My age? Do yoa imagino that I want
to play tho lover? No, God be praiaedl I norer had
that weakness, and, at my age, I am not a fooh I want
to bo your father by contract; I want to marry you so
that I may have the right to make you my heiress.
Come, wo have talked enough. You must say ves or no,
for I am not a man to be kept in suspense, and I do not
want to be humiliated. Do you understand ? ^
M. Antoine spoke with singular authority. Julie was
afraid that a romsal would exasperate him.
** You are too hasty," she replied ; ** my character is
undecided and timid. You must give me time for re*
flection.*'
*^Tlicn — you do not say no?" replied the old maiii
evidently flattered at being allowed to hope.
** I do not say anything," replied Madam d'EstrellCi
who had risen, and was approaching the house eagerly.
** I am agitated, as you sec, by an oficr that I did not
expect. Give me several days for reflection, for consid*
oration, — I am deeply moved, deeply touched by your
friendship ; but I am alarmed, also, for I had sworn to
remain free I Adieu, Monsieur Thierry, — leave me I I
really need to be alone with my own heart ; do not try
and force me into a decision by your goodness."
Julie escaped into an inner room, and uncle Antoino
left tho hotel. Devoured by a fever of hope that made
him more insane than over, he forgot the pavilion, tho
lily, the picture r he forgot everything; but when ho
found himiself in the rue de Babylone, in front of the pavil*
ion, he was seized by a furious desire to torment, pussloi
and bewilder his relatives. He rang, and was adnutted by
Marcel, who was waiting to learn the result of his con*
ference with Julie.
** So, here you are I " he said, abruptly. ^' Where is
my plant? Has Master Julien finished my picture ? "
** Come into the studio," said Msjrcel ; ^* the picture is
finished, and your Uly is as fresh as if nothing had hap*
pened."
98 ANTONIA.
^ Ohf of eonna I ** mattered Antoine, ironicaUj ; *< it
bee docM it good to be broken.'*
He came into tbe studio with his hat on ; his sister-in-
law, with a sad coontenance, and in a very dejected at-
titude, was seated upon her little cane-chair in the recess
of the window; without soceing her, without glanc-
ing aroundi he went straight up to his lily, examined the
fracture, and gased eagerlr at the stalk, which continued
to bhK>m in the damp earth. Then ho looked at the por-
trait of the AnUmia^ and turning to Julion, said, —
^ I like it rerj much ; but you sha'n't have my custom,
feraUthat.**
He walked up and down the studio, passed before
Madam Thierry, saw her at last, and put his hand to his
luU, saying, in a surly tone, ** Your servant, madam ! "
Betuming to Marcel, he laughed in his face, like a
crazy man, without uttering a word ; and finally, furious
because he could not find any way of revenging himself
that would not deprive him of his fianc6e's good opinion,
be rushed to the door. Marcel, who saw what he was
saffering, drew him back.
** Come, uncle," he said, *' we must know how we
stand ! Has the Countess d'Estrcllo obtained our pardon,
or most I sell my practice to pay damages ? "
^ The Countess d'Estrellc,'' replied the old man, *' is
a prudent person, who knows the difference between hair-
bfmined fools and a sensible man. Yon will see tbe
proof of it some day."
Madam Thierry, who could not endure her brother-
in-law's insolence, and who thought he intended to insult
her, arose to go to her room. Antoine bowed slightly,
and ooDtinned, —
** I dkl not mean that for you, Madam Andr£, I have .
Bothing at all to say to you 1 — "
^ And I have nothing at all to say to yon," replied the
Widow, in a tone of disdainful bitterness, which she was.
not prodent enough to repress.
Julian, incapable of humiliating himself by makinsr
devoured his indignatioQ m silenoei and Marod
ANTONIA. 99
followed (he cmborrassod and disordered mov ement s of
the horticulturiBt with a piercing ejo.
<' What is the matter, undo ? ** he said, when Madam
Thierry hod left the room. ** You are hatching oat som^
thing, good or' bad 1 Be sensible, and tell the trath.''
^^ Oh, the truth, the truth 1 that is what you want I "
replied M. Antoine ; '* the truth will be seen and known
when the day and hour comes I Every one, periiaps, wiU
not find it a laughing matter I "
Julicn, who was still painting, lost patience; laying
down his pallette and maul-stiek, and taking off the hand-
kerchief rolled carelessly around his head (painters, at
that time, wore this hcod-drcss in their studios instead
of caps), he went straight up to his uncle, and, forcing
him to interrupt his restless and noisy walk, demanded,
seriously and firmly, an explanation of his vague threats.
*' Uncle," ho said, '* you are acting as if you wished
to drive mo to extremities, but I shall not forget the re-
spect I owe you. I beg you, however, to remember that
I am not a child, to bo frightened by a frown and loud
talking. It would be better for all, if you would see and
understand the real state of the case ; that is to say,
the real grief that I feel at having displeased you. Do
not ask mo how this misfortune occurred ; a moment's
forgctfalncss, a fit of absence of mind, cannot be ex-
plained ; since it has occurred, what is to bo my pun-
ishment, or what do you wish me to do in expiation? I
am ready to prove my repentance, or submit to the con-
sequences of my fault. Decide, and stop threatening ; it
will bo more worthy of both of us.''
M. Antoino stood perfectly still, and tried to look in-
different ; but, in reality, he was very much mortifiedi
for he could not deny that the accused occupied a much
more dignified position, at this moment, than the judge.
He felt afraid, also, that he had been making himself
ridiculous ; and, at his wit's end, he formed a diabolical
plan, and resolved to carry it out.
** Everything depends upon Madam d'Estrelle,'* he
said ; ** I will do all that I promised for your mother, and
will pardon you as well, in spite of your villanous
vn
lOO ANTONIA.
dad, if ahe denres and oomxDAnds it ; bat I will only do
Ibis oo ecmditioQ that she keeps her word, and comes to-
Borrow to mr house, with jroor familr.''
** Yerf well," said Marcel ; *' if it is all arranged, why
did not jon remind her of the appointment just now ? **
^ I am not talking to 70a, lawyer," replied Antoine,
** be so good as to take jonrsolf off; I want to talk to
master Jolien alone."
^ Talk to Toor heart's content," said Marcel ; ** I am
^ad eiKNurh to go, for thej hare been expecting me at
nnr boose ror more than an hour. I will return after a
while, and find out what 70a have decided."
When Jolieu was alone with his ande, the latter
asBwned a solemn manneri that was eren more comical
than his prenoos rage.
^ Listen ! " he said ; ** I want you to do an errand for
me. Yon must go to the hotel d'Estrelle."
^ Excuse me, uncle, I cannot go there. I should not
be admitted."
^ I know perfectly well that yon would not be ad-
mitted. But you can carry a letter there ; you can wait
ibr the reply in the ante-chamber, and bring it back to
^ Yeiy well," said Julien, who thought ho would stop
at the porter's k>dge. •« Where is the letter? "
** Give me writing materials."
** Here they are," said Julien, opening the drawer of
bistable.
The horticulturist sat down, and wrote rapidly. Julien
changed his working-dress for a coat which was lying
npoo a chair, and tried to conceal his impatience by so
doing. Soon his uncle called him.
** Do you want a seal? " said Julien.
**Noi yet. You must correct mr note. I do not
pride myself upon being learned, and I ma^ have made
mistakes in orthography. Bead it 1 read it aloud, and
tbeo eorrect the pomts, the commas, — everything."
Jolien, who sospected some trick, cast a rapid glance
Of«r the few lines which his undo had written in a bold
baad. A mist passed befiwe his eyes, and he came rery
ANTONIA.
lOI
near cnuliinff the paper with indignation ; bnt he ima^
incd that thia whimsical and extravagant old man had
written this letter ovXj so as to make him betraj his
secret. He restrained himself, therefore, met the scmti*
nizing gaze fastened ferociously upon him vrithout blench*
iog, and read the contents of the note with a firm voice :
** Madaiie and FniEXD, —
*^ We wore so confused at our last interview, that wa
parted without coming to an understanding about Our
arrangements for to-morrow* I will not conceal from
you that your presence at my little fete will give me new
hope, and that I shall consider your absence as the sign
of a breach between us, or an unfortunate delay of
your decision. I have told you that I did not wisli to bo
trifled with, and you have promised me to bo sincere.
Night brings wisdom. I shall dcpeud upon to-morrow
to confirm the hopes you have allowed me to enters
tain.
'* Your friend and servant, who is impatient to call him-
self your flanci,
'* Aktoins Thxebbt."
" Very well," replied the horticulturist, when Jnlien
had finished reading it, '' are there any faults?"
'^ Yes, uncle, a great many," said Juliou, quietly tak-
ing his pen.
*' Softly I Don't let the corrections be seen. Be
careful I "
'* It is all done. Seal it, and write the address."
" Wliat do you think of it?" said his uncle, writing
Madam d'EstrcUo's name upon the envelope.
'< Nothing at all," replied Julien. <' I don't beliovo
you will send it."
" Will you believe so if you take the letter? •»
" Yes."
" What wiU you say then ? "
*' Nothing. It is not my afiair.**
** Dianire / it is as much your afiair as mine 1 ^
"How so, pray?"
lOS ANTONIA.
^ The r ecoT e iy and deed* of gift of jour house at
Siirres dqwnd upon it***
^ Verjr weU, uncle. I thank joq, then, with ail mj
^ Yon have an expresMon — **
^ I have no expression at all. Look at me 1 **
Antoine eonld not meel Jolien's bold and penetrating
^Come I be qnick I ^ he said, ill-natnredlj ; ** cany mj
letter."
^ III7 to do so,** replied Jalien.
He took his hat.
'^ Where shalll bring 70a the answer?**
** I will wait for 70a in the street, at the door of the
iMitd, and 70a can bring it to me there ; we will go ont
tegether.**
The7 left the honce. Julien went straight to the por-
ter's lodge, his uncle koopiug him in sight ; but, instead
of giving the letter to the porter, as he had intended doing
at first, he informed him that ho wished to speak to the
▼alet-de-chambre, and crossed the court rapidly. When
be reached the ante-chamber, he gave his message ; and,
like a man who does not expect to be admitted, sat down
00 a bench to wait ; ho said to the valet, however, -~
** Inform the countess that there is a repl7, and that the
nephew of M. Antoine Thierry is here to carry it to
him.**
After a moment's delay, the valet returned and
said,-!-
^* The countess would like to ask you a few questions ;
be SQ good as to come this way.**
^e opened a side door, and led the way. Julien fol«
kmed him into a dark hall ; the valet opened another
door le^ng ipto ^ large apartment, brought a chair, and
leliredf
Jalien found himself in a beautiful diningsroom, oppo-
site tbe principal door. In another moment this door
opened, and Madam d'Estfpllp ^t#redf Sh^ kM>l^ pale
and agitated.
^I veceive 70a in this roomy** she said, **beeaasel
ANTONIA. 103
have compaoj io the drawing-roonii and I Cftsooi refor
to the subject that brings joa here, before oChiers. Did
M. Antoioe giro jou this letter ?**
** Yes, madam/'
** You have not read it, of course?"
'* I Imve, madam."
** And you undertook the commissioii ? "
(* Yes, madam."
'•Why so?"
'* To find out whether my uncle is a fool, who oa|;fat to
be under lock and key, or whether he is atrodooslj
wicked."
*' In other words, —yon wore not sure, — you wished
to find out, — whether I had given him the right to send
me such a letter?"
** I did not suppose such a thing possible, and I took it
for granted that you would send me away without an an*
swcr."
" And since I receive you, — you conclude — "
** Nothing, madam, excepting that it is unnecessary
cruelty to keep mo in suspense."
**\Vhy should you feel such an interest? — What
account do I owe to you — ?"
" Ah, madam, do not speak in that tone," cried Julien,
almost beside himself. '* Either you have disregarded
the antipathy Uiat you must feel for such a man, on ac-
count of jny uncle's M'calth,-~and in that case I have
absolutely nothing to say, — or you have endured his inso-
lent offer with a patience that has deceived him ; and, if
this is so, I can easily understand the cause of your pa-
tience,— your goodness. You were afraid that M. An-
toine would visit his resentment upon us."
*' It is true, M. Julien : I thought of your mother, and
avoided making a reply ; I asked time for refloction ; I
hoped that, to please me, he would keep his word, and
restore Madam Thierry to comfort and happiness. It
was wrong, perhaps, for I am naturally sincere, and I
failed to be so in this case. But how could I suppose
that this violent and ill-mannered old man would begin
by trying to compromise me? And yet he has done so^
104 AirroniA.
and God onlj luiowa what will bo tho eod or lliii d»>
■gTMftUe affiurl Bot I ought not to think aboot ihaL
Sineo w} DOgotiolioiu ia jour faror Lave failed, it is ael<
fiib is Bie to compUio of mj own troubles. Ia fkct, I
E«j{i«t more tbui uijtbiDg cIm that I shall no longer bo
mUa to MiTO TOO, after boitig tho caoso of a gmot dis-
«aur. What u to be dono with a man who mistakes mj
Aor for eoqoeliy, and xkj silonco for an avowal ? "
Julian f^ Dpon bis knees ; and, as Madam d'Estrello,
alarmed and surprised, was about to fljr, ho said, —
** Don't be afraid, madam ; (his is not a thoatricol
Jecloration ; I am not a madman, and I am pcrforminga
■wioii dolj in thankiog jou, upon mj kuecs, in mj
notber'B Bome. Grailtudo for such goodness as joun
most be oxpresscd, not bj words, but bj adoration.
Kow," added Julion, riaiug, " I must also tell you that I
SB • man, and that I should despise myself if mj love,
•Toa for the most tender of mothers, could induce mo to
•oeept the sacrifice (bat you propose. No, madam, do.
Ton most show do considcmtioa for M. Antoioo Thierry ;
jroa most not allow him to sup(ioso, for on instant longer,
that be can aspire, — poor man I ho is a fool ; but fools
niiat be held in check, like troublcsomo and badly b^
havcd cfaildren. I will undertake this duty, and I will go
•t ODce, with Tour permission, to disabuM him forever."
** Ah, Moa Z)(e«, you yourself? " said Julio. " No I do
aet drire him to desperation, I will write — "
" And for my pert," replied JuHen, proudly, and witli a
borst of passion that did not displease Uadam d'Bsirelle,
" I will not allow yon to write. Do you suppose that I
an each a child as to bo afraid of his anger, or so great
a eoword as to allow you to bo exposed to his importuni>
tiea? Do yoB think that my mother, any more than my^
Mlf, would accept favor* lliat would cost you the shadow
of a falsehood f We would give our lives to save you
flma Ibo least suffering ; and is it your place to suffer aad
to be persocatod for us? No, madam, uodBrsiond lu
bouer. Uy mother's eentimoDU are as noble as your
•va ; It was with th* greatest roluctanco that she agreed
to MMfl IL Antoine's assist anc e. At present, she woald
ANTONIA.
105
b1u(«h to do 00 ; sho will abhor (ho thought of hi« bcnefito,
AvhcD she knows what they woald cost jrou. As for me,
I am nothing, and will never be anything in jour lifo ;
but let a man, speaking from his heart, assnro 70a that
he has no /ear, either of poverty, or Tcngeance, or any
sort of persecution. I have done my duty, and will con-
tinue to do it ; I will support my mother until her last
brexUh ; I would fight with the universe, if it wore neces-
sary, for her sake. Do not be troubled, therefore, about
her fate, you who love her so well. If she had notliiog
else, she would prefer your friendship to aU M. Antoino'a
wealth. For my part, it is enough for me to have been
allowed the privilege of telling you * I lovo you ' in this
one moment of my life, without offending you and without
seeming insane : this recollection will always make me
proud and huppy ; I am speaking to your soul, and there is
no feeling in my heart that is not worthy of you. Adieu,
madam I Live happy and tranquil; and if yon ever
want some task performed that others find impossible,
remember there is a man living who will do it, — a maa
poor, humble, unknown, but able to move mountains ;
for, when ho is striving for his mother or for you, he is
will, — he is faith in person."
Without seeking or waiting for an answer, Julien went
out, and was in the street in the twinkling of an eye.
Antoino was waiting for him with feverish impatience ;
he was just about rushing into the house liko a bomb-
shell, when Julien reappeared.
** So you have come ! " ho cried ; ^^ the answer must
be at least four pages long. Where is it? "
** Come a little farther off, monsieur," replied Julien,
taking his arm, and leading him across the street ; ** there
is so much noise here, that we cannot hear our own
voices."
They went into an open lot, where there was a placard
bearing the inscription, — *' Land for $aU,'* Julien ecu*
tinued, —
•• Madam d'Estrelle read your letter, uncle, and having
done so, summoned me into her presence, and intrusted
me with a verbal answer/'
^p^^OTirvi
6 ANTONIA.
«« And brief.*
^ WImhi joo offorod tho ooontess jronr band, tbo iroag-
ed tbai 700 wero out of jour sodbos, and was afraid of
lio^ alone witb jroo ; tho promiaod to'rofloct, 00 at to
li nd of yon. In point of fact, sbe nocded no timo for
Aeelioii, and tbii ii bor answer : sbe regrets tbat sbe
HI be unable to come to your bouse to-morrow, and sbe
ads 70a word tbat, from tbis time, sbe will not be at
Nne wben joa call."
^ Is sbe going away ? Wbore is sbe going ? **
^ It is not mj place to explain ber message ; 70a most
iderstand it***
«« Oh 1 it is mj formal dismissal ? **
M So it would seem.**
** And sbe commissions vou to inform mo? **
^ No ; I undertook to do so witbout asking bor con«
^ Wbj so, — I sbould like to know."
^ Yon alreadj know, monsieur. Did you not tell mo
oi mj motber^s fortune and mine dopeoded upon tbe
leooragement given by Madam d'EstroHc to your mat-
nonial bopes? It was for tbis reason tbat I seised so
kgeriy tbe excuse you gave me for going to ber bouse ;
hoped tbe strange character of your letter would in«
lee her to grant me an intenriew. Yon did not foresee
lat?-
** On the contrary, mordim 1^ cried M. Antoine ; '* I
kid to myself plainly, that that reiy tUng would bap-
n, if — *
••Ifwbat,sir?-
^ If 1 bad guessed correctly. I understand now."
** For my part, I do not understand.**
^ It is tbe same to me.**
** Excuse me, will roa allow mo to guess? Yon im-
plied that I was soch a fool, such a madman, such an
Bpatinent fop, as to aspire to attract the attention of
lie lady?*
^Aadaewlaasaieof it! Yoo bare deolared year
. ANTONIA. 107
sontimenU, — your triumphant manner tolb mo so I Y<m
aro rubbing jour hands with joj, to think that 70a hayo
occasioned mv defeat. You will toll the ttoiy to jrour
dear mother I You will say to her, *Tho rich man ia
cheated I Ho thoup;ht to throw us a morsel of broadf
and take a young wife ; lio was going to turn us into rid*
iciile, and disinherit us. Look at him I Ho has onlj
succeeded in covering himself with shame. Ho will grow
. old alonOf he will die an old bachelor, and, in spito of
him, we shall bo rich/ **
'* You aro mistaken, sir,^ replied Julien, with perfoci
self-possession; '*I have never made any such ignoblo
calculations, and never will do so. You inay marry to*
morrow, if you choose, and marry whom you choose ; I
shall be delighted, provided that you do not compromise mj
dignity, and my mother's, in the transaction. I wished to
have an opportunity of saying this to ^ladam d'Estrollo ;
I repeat it to you. And now I have onlv to recall that
you are my uncle, and to take leave of you with duo
respect."
Julien bowed deeply to U. Antoine, and was turning
away. The latter called him back imperiously.
'*And my lily ? " he cried| ** who will pay me for that?**
" Name the price, sir."
*' Five hundred thousand francs."
'* Aro you talking seriously ? "
'* You ask roe whether I am talking seriously?"
*' I believe you, knowing that you would bo incapabla
of deceiving any one who trusts you."
" Base flattery I "
Tlie face of the young artist flushed ; he looked steadily
at M. Antoine, and tried to pursuade himself that
he was so insane that a man in his senses ought not
to^ mind his invectives. Antoine read his thought, and
tried to be more calm.
" No matter for that," he said, ** let it pass. I will
go take the ruin aud the picture ; my loss is the prico
that I must pay for my goodness and confidence ; it will
teach me to be true, hereafter, to my own ideas and prin-
ciples. Lead the way, and not another word I "
lo8 ANTONIA.
Tber ntnroed to the studio. Silent m penonifiod
iilo« IL Antoioe took up the plant, the broken slolk,
the picture, and, without allowing anj one to help
without looking at Julian or moving his lips, he
the pavilion never to enter it again.
llareel soon returned, to learn what had happened ;
Julien, with frank sinceritj, told him everything in
Ifadam Thierrj^s presence.
^ Yivm^ he added, ** I know that my thoughtless con-
has caused you great anxiety. You have thought
as foolish as undo Antoine, and my mother is fright-
about a sentiment that she imagines will be fatal to
Undeceive yourself, and recover your tranquillity,
mother ; and vou. Marcel, give me back the respect
to which I am entitled, as a reasonable man. One can
bo so, in spite of committing an imprudence; and I
•cknowledge that I was very thoughtless in offcriog onr
benefactress an object that did not belong to me. It
was a misplaced outburst of gratitude, but she was
not shocked, because she saw that my feeling was
worthy of her, and was perfectly respectful. I flatter
myself that she is more than ever persuaded of this, siuco
granting me an interview, and I swear to both of you, by
•verythmg that is most sacred, — by filial love and faitli-
ful friendship, — that there shall be nothing in my future
eooduct by which Madam d'Estrello can bo annoyed, or
you afflicted. Do not regret the house at Sevres, my
dear mother ; wo can do without it I At all events, you
don't want Madam d'Estrelle to become Madam Antoine
Thieny for the sake of obtaining it, and you certainly
doD*t suppose that such a thing could have happened. As
fiw you, my dear Marcel, I tlmnk you for all the trouble
you have taken ; but you must be thoroughly convinced
that your efforts are thrown away, and that uncle Au-
toioo will never give anything without an equivalent.
Let us Im composed, and resume the course of life which
this bad dream of fortune interrupted. I have still my
haiMls to work with, and a heart with which to cherish
jm'i and believe me, from to day I shall be mors active,
ANTONIA. 109
more coarageoosi and sorer of the fiitore than erer
before.'*
Julien was speaking the truth, and not making a dis-
play of courage to reasaure his mother. Although far
from being tranquil, ho felt strong 2 his two intcnriewa
with Julie, succeeding each other so rapidly, had given ft
new direction to his thoughts, — a new impulse to his
soul.
Inspired bj her presence, he had expressed, nnczpeet*
cdly and without premeditation, his noble and devoted
passion. lie was sure that ho had opened his heart to her
freely, and that she had neither been alarmed nor offended.
Did he believe that she loved him? No; but he felt
vaguely, perhaps, that she did, and his heart was thrilled
with a mysterious ecstasy. Naturally inclined to an
ideal enthusiasm and self-sacrifice, he did not shrink
from the part that ho felt called upon to perform. What
he had said, he meant to do, and he was strong enough
to do it. To love in silence, — to hope, seek, strive but
for one thing, — the opportunity of proving his devo*
tion, — this was his plan, his will, his confession of faith,
as it were.
" I may have to suffer a great deal for the present,"
he thought ; " but it will give me so much joy to suffer
nobly, and hide my love for her sake, that I shall rise
above my misery, and my mother will no longer be af«
flicled. In the struggle between my passions and duties,
I must bS really great. And why not ? I have always
loved noble aspirations and elevated sentiments, and
ought, therefore, to be equal to the trial. Since I am a
man, and believe we can best fulfil our duties in ft
, domestic life, I suppose I shall do some day as Marcel
has done : marry a good woman, who tlicncetbrth will bo
my best friend. Up to that time, I will live free and
pure. This noble Julie, who can never be mine, I will
love without hope, and, if possible, without desire ; I
will love her with a sublune, fraternal friendship, and will
seek inspiration in this sentiment. Others will regard
me merely as a gentle, patient artist, seeking grace and
bloom in baskets of roses ; but, by studying the divhue
«^p
no ANTON! A.
SBjiterj of puritj in the bosom of flowers* one maj learn
to eompcehend the sanctity of lovo. It seems to me that
Ili0e is something great m being able to say to yourself
thai 7011 might seek to win a beloved woman, and love
kcr too well to wish to do so. My life will be one of
aPMsditataon and sentiment, and to this life I will bo true
as long as possible. I ^ill live in my thoughts as
others do in their acts, and perhaps I shall bo happier
than any one else. My entliusiasm will not bo wasted
«poo delosions. I shall live in constant communion with
the beantiful, the pore, the great : more fortunate in this
than my poor father, who felt this longing, and thought to
•atisQr it by external luxury, and the society of distin-
goished people, I shall not require so much ; and, asking
only the approval of my conscience, shall reiUly be richer
than be."
In casting himself thus, of his own accord, into the
regions of the ideal, Julien obeyed a secret inclination
that had been developed in him at an early day. He had
received an excellent education, aod had not only studied
his art with enthusiasm, but had read a groat deal. His
severe enthusiasm would not allow him to enjoy all sub-
jects indiscriminatelv, or to take pleasure in every stylo.
•Among all the authors who had nourished his youtli,
the groat Comeillo was tlio one whom ho had road
with the most satisfaction and bcncflt. It was in his
works that ho had found the noblest aspirations, the most
beroie sentiments, clothed in the most elevated forms.
He preferred his teachings displayed in action, — the
pictare that he presented of great virtues embodied in
Uving characters, — to the discussions of contemporane-
oos philosophy.
We do not mean that he disdained the spuit of his age,
or held himself aloof from the prodigious movement that
was going on at that time in ideas. On the contnury, he
was one of the robust products of this epoch, so unique in
hisUMry for its grand illusions, leading the way to formid-
able resolations. The last days of the monarchy had
cooM, hoi Torj few persons were thinking of overthrow-
.i^ it. Jolion, at least, was not among Uie nnmber who
cheriahed tbia dream. Ha wm far cnoagb from attcmpt-
iog any cDicrprira whoievcr of a poliiicel oaturo. For
his part, ho wna JDtoxicatcd by the discoveries nod drcama
of moral acionco and of Daiunil science, recently extri-
cated in great blocks, as it were, from ilio quarries of tho
past. Lc^mnge, Dailly, Lalaodo, Dcrthollot, ftloogo,
. CoDdorccI, Lavoisier, lind already raroliUionisod thought.
Wlicu wo ginuco at tliC rapid sitcccssioD of fortunate oflbrta
thnt, in n few yours, bad transformed ostralogy into M-
tronomy, nlcbcmy into cliomistry, nod, along tbe wliolo
liuo of human knowledge, liitd replaced blind pnyndice
by cxpcrimcDtal analysis, it is impossible to deny that tho
philosophers of tho eishtccnlh ccnlnry, in warring ogttinat
Buperstitioo, bnd freed individiinl genius from its fottcrs, ns
well as the religious and sociol conscience of peoples. And
what audAc!i]r, what enlhusinsin, what intoxication ia
these first flights towards tlio fiiluro I TIic human mind
had just saluted tho sun of progress, nud already imo^
ined that it had taken possession of all its rays. Tho
first montgolfiira balloon had scnreely risen upon ita
wings of fire, whon two men ventured to cross tlio dian-
nol. At once humanity cried, '* Wo are muslora of tlio
' atuiosplioro, wo are iiiliiibiiiknts of hcuveu 1 "
At llio very limo when our story cliniicos to oeeur, the
now idea of iho ugo, just starting in ils noblo atrocr, luul
been siimmcd up in tho wonl iKr/cetibUUi/, Condorcot
had niudo a inagnidccal ouilina of tho doctrine, and,
without allowing for human wenliucss, urged ils influito
destiny, llo boliovod in the iuiinito to such an extent,
that ho oven hopod to discover the oceret for annihiloting
death itself, and all readers and thinkers wore beginning
to bclieTo with him in tho indefinite prolongation of phys-
ical life. Farmontior believed that ho had exoroised for-
aver the spoctro of famine, by acclimating tho potato.
Mesmer thought that he had discovered a mysterious
•gent, Iho Boureo of everything wonderful. Sniut Mar-
tin announced the regeneration of the soul, and dissipatod
the terrora of the old dogmas with tho dogma of innnile
light. Caglioatro pretended to rosuscitate magio in a '
natural and oomprohensible manner. In a word, oU
IIS ANTONIA.
Biocb, die BKMt practical u w«U u the moat rotnantlo,
mra ioloxicated by the wildeit dreams of the futare,
and, amid this OTei>«xcitement, the preHnt eeemed aa
obetada quite nnworthjr of any aotJce. The old mon-
archy, the iaOexible clwgy, were Mill erect, and were
•ndearoring to leue again tlie power that wae flipping
from then ; but liberty had just been inaugurated in
America, and France felt that hor day wa^ near. No
bloodibed waa anticipated. DelightTnl cbimenu excluded
idea* of Teogeaaee. Upon tlie eve of a terrible Btarm,
tbe pomil* rejoiced, nod a mysterious fever of ideas pre-
pared lor the mngniflcoot outbnnt of '89.
Julien was fhll of all that eager faith and resolntioo
that seem to descend providentially upos the earth at
periods preliminary to grent conflicts ; but there was a
certain tranqnillily about him, duo to his hnbits, training,
and also to his natural disposition. He could not have
argued about it ; but one of his marked characteristics
was a philosophical mysticism, and a sort of inward ne-
cessity of Boeriflcio]; himself. If he had not loved a
woman, he would liavo loved liberty with fanaticism.
Lovo was revealed to liini under the form of deTol)on>
As soon as Julie's image tilled his soul, ho thought of
himself merely as a force whoso oIIIcb was to serve and
protect Julie. Did tbe idea occur to him that she might
and ought to belong to him? Yes, undoubtedly, it oc-
curred to him in n confupcd, and sometimes in an impe-
rioos manner; but he resisted it bravely. He bad no
fttqudioos, and was not like node Antoioe, dauled by the
nuik, titk, and elegance of the oonntess ; ho know Julie's
modiocr* birth, ana the embarrassed state of her finances.
He considered himself, moreover, her equal ; for he was
ooe of those men of the third estate, filled with a legiti-
mate aod obslinata pride, who were beginning to say,^
. Tlu third alttt* w ntrylkiHg ; as people said afterwards, —
Th» ftofU itvKTvtiting ; as some day ^without njecting
any form of nobility, whether coming from the sword,
the robe, the workshop, or the plough— they will say,—
Tk» iMdindMol is tvirytkutf, Jnlten did not consider
y— *■■" d'EsCreUe as a woman plaaed abora Um \i\ .«l»*
conutances, but hj hor panonal meriL That morit 1m
veiy probftbly Bzazgerated. It is tbo pririlega of lors to
seo tho objects of iia worship through the modiom of the
idea), and to eonsidor itMlf CKlI«d upoD to make coni '-
of diTinities. Thus, an admirable humility and li
less prido were united in his passion.
" X am not worthy of sueh a woman," he said to him>
self; " I must becomo so : and when, by being patiant,
diiioteroitod, doToiod and rospoctful, X have made injaolf
worth/ of hor,^fth, then, perhaps, X shall fool tut I
hare the right to saj, — * L>ovo me I * "
Sometimes ho asked himself wbothor this day would
come before Julio's life had been disposed of br the un*
expected circumstances of the future ; and to thie doubt
he answered, — •
"Supposing thnt it is so, she will respect me, — pet^
haps will feel a friendship for me, — and the time I Iikto
consecrated to govomiog myself nobly, will not have boon
thrown away."
Madam Thierry, therefore, was both Borprisod and do>
lighted to SCO thnt hor son, from tho very day of tho groat
catastrophe, suddenly recovered his cheerfulness, and
every uppcarance of moral and pLysicnl health.
"M^ friend," she said to Mnrcol, as slie was talking
whh him alone, " I scarcely dare acknowledge what ia in
my miad ; but he looks m bappy I i/bn i^m I do you
think it can bo possible ? "
"What?" said Marcel. "Oh, yes, — big visit to
Madam d'Estrelle I There is no saying, my good annt ;
he is handsome and cimiablo enough to please a great
lady ; but tho countess is ruined, and can only be roliovod
from her embarrassments by a rich marriage. Wo ought
to wish to see her well married, provided that her hn^
band ia not too old a man. She Is not determined and
courageous, as 'you were, and, besides, tho step that soo*
oeeded in your case is usually a failure. An absorbing
passion is a number that draws once out of a hundred
thousand times in the lottery of destiny. Do not deeira
to see it tried, either by Julian or the conoteas."
" Ko, I do not wish anything of the kind ; it ia too
8
■H
AJfTOV/A.
lMnrdoafl,ia&ct; but auppoaing ibe loTMhio: what
** Z do not know ; but she i« virtaoDi, and h« ia an
: thaf would both raffer. It would be hotter
■* iWii what J said at first. And y«twhata
tJl
if tber eoold be •epontted."
■* iW ii what 1 said at
Xlwj are both so beautiful, so young and so good I
fhte is sometimea nrj unjust I If my poor husband bod
loft him mr fortune, JuUen would bavo been a good
BMtdi for her, dnce abo is poor, and has no fomilj pride.
JJos I God pordou me I Tbii is the flrat time that I
bavo erar blamed mj Andri 1 Do not spook of it again,
Ifareel, — nerer again 1 "
**We moat reflect, bowoTer," replied the lawyer,
** and not allow the fire in Jntioa'a heart to blase too
Ugh ; to^y it is an illumioatioD, probably because he
kopea ; bHmorrow will be the conflagration."
"What shall we do then. Marcel?"
*' I don't know. I wiah I could fiud out what Madam
d'Eatrelle feels, aud, above all, learn about node Anioine ;
fin- 1 am aot deeeired 1^ bis pretended philoeophy, and
Z fear — "
"What do yon fear?"
" ETeiything 1 With aneb a man, what may wo not
•xpect?"
Tbe emotions of this erentful day mode Madam d'Es-
trelle ahnoat ill. Julion'a viait completely unaerrod her ;
but, when be had goue, the sort of forer into which she
bad bem thrown by U. Autoine's pnipoaal, waa auo-
eeeded by a languor that was not without swcetDcsa.
" Eraiy one would langb at mo," aha said, " for feel-
ing sttdi eonfldonce in the word of a man whom I have
knows only for a few boura ; and yot I am certain that
Im ia my friend,^ my true friend. But ought I to a^
eept thla ardent fWendahip 7 Will it not be dangoroiu for
bim and for me? It ia tno that be did not oak mo to
Mcept iL He went away like a ponon who reliea upon
himaalf akne, and who lores without asking permiasioa.
Sinea be aara that he has no h<^, has be not the right to
IsTo? Aadkttw, indeed, oosld I pnTeafcUnl"
ANTONIA. S15
Julio knew pcrfoctly well, in hor own heATt, th»t iba
ought Dot to Iitivo received Jiilicn, after wliot M i H a in
Thierry bod tolil her of Lis feeling towarda henolfl
" In foci," she said, " whj did I rocciTQ him when mj
first impulse was to send tliis simplo and final mcBBOgo : —
* There is no answer I ' That would hare freed mo botli
from the uncle and nephew. But did tlu) latter dosorre
to bo humiliated? Did he not come for the pnrpoM of
dofcndin;; Uig honor from his uncle's contemptible trick-
eries? Had he not the right to tell me what he did npon
this point? And if ho added a few tender words. — too
tender for his own good, perhaps, — was there anything
to wound me in what be said ? Is it my duty to be of-
fended? I cannot tell. lie ofTcrcd himself, — he gav« '
himself to mo, — without seeking anything in rctam. He
did not even give me time to answer him. Whether I
wish it or not, ho has mode me a present of his heart and
bis life. Indeed, he did not talk like a lover, but like ntj
slave, and at the same time my master. It is all very
singular, and I cannot understand it. What I feel for
him I do not know ; but I am certain of one thing, and
that is, that I believe in him."
It seemed to Julie, as well as to Madam Thierry and
Marcel, that the morrow of this strange day would be
marked by the meat important events. They wondered,
in vain, what M. Antolno's spite would induco bim to do.
To their surprise, « number of days passed, and no change
occurred in their respective situations. The horlieul-
tarist had gone into the country, but no one knew whore.
He hod no country-seat, at least so Mnrcel thought, bnt
the lawyer was mistaken in supposing tliat ho knew alt
obout his afTitirs, Wlion convinced that he was really
absent, he became noxious. The people at his liousO|
however, showed him orders written by his hand which
tlio head gardener received every day, glviug preciso
directions about the treatment of certain delicate plants.
These faorticulluml bulletins bad no dote, nod no post*
uaik. They were brought by the valet^e-chambro of the
ez-ehip«wnor,— an old sailor, throroughly incorruptible^
devoted as e negro, silent es e log.
"Whtt u« wa lo think?" .nid Marcel to Madam
Thieny ; *< he la probablj io a groat raffe, or he innj
perfaapa be aahamed of hia folly, and fool like hidiaft for
• while. Let ua hope that be will retnm band of his
Bank tor malrimonj, and that he will nuke it a point of -
honor not to break off hit negotiations in regard to the
pATiUotu The indemnity will be of great serrico to yon,
and I cannot bide Irom tou that Madam d'Estrelle is in
Beat need of the sum that he promised her. I cannot
fanagiaa what toikhdoiis fly is stinging her creditors, but
tbey are bMuining to show the strangest impatienoe and
aoxietT. Tbnj hare gone so far as to threatea tliot they
vQI jrleld their elainu to a principal creditor, who will
es rt si nly ^ecnlato npon the emborrnssment of my client ;
•othing worse than that conld happen."
A. few days afterwards ho had ah iDterriew with Mad*
am d'Estrelle ; her father-in-law was very ill, OLd she -
kad joat retamed from paying him a risiL
**X am not at all easy," he said ; " I fear that the
maranis will die wtthoot sotUing your afikin."
"I do ttot connt mnch upon his goodneu," replied
JoUe, *' but I cannot bolieTO that ho will leave mo Strug*
|}iog with the counts creditors, when ho can sooosilypuf
•o rad to my tiiab. We must moko allowaaco for the
diildish fear that selBsh old men feol of poverty 1 bat
•Aer him — "
"After kim?^" replied Marcel, " tho dovil is aflor
him, — I mean Is at his heels, Uis wife is a terrible
woman. I am afraid of her. She does sot lovo you ; and,
•ineo yonr husband was not her son, yon have do daimi
** ifim Dmt /too ses the dark side of ererytbing, my
dear ^^7** I "^^ narquia is neither very old nor very
■lek. H« must hare mode his will. The morchioneu
ia exeeedinijly devoot, and she will do from a sense of
dn^ what ■!» woold not do out of tenderness. Do not
liMoarage ma, you who have always sustained me."
.** I sboold oot b« disoouraged myself, if I could lay
mf hand opoa b^ wbimaioal undo. If he would buy
■adpnrfartlMpkTiliootWesbotildgnia » del^ of ona
ANTONIA. It7
or two miniths. Wa should lutra tinM to uU the liul*
fnrm in Beauvouu, or to field it ftt ft modoTftto price ;
othorwiM it will bo Misfid brutally, and we KhftU Iom «!-
(osetlicr remoAnU of proporly which are still Taluablfl."
Julio, fomieHy, had been Tory much troubled about
her precarious position, bnt elko wu in ft Mota of utter
Uuitude, at present, that took the pUco of cooiftge. So
much philosophy did she display, that Marcel waa am^
prised, and at last became irril^ed.
" The devil take me I " he said, in a low roice, to
Uadnm Thierry, **one would swear that the a^ed
nothing better then to be put into the street,"
Was this really Madam d'Estrelle's secret thoaghtP
Hod she said to herself that if her husband's fiuoily
abandoned her, led hor poor, she would no lonsor owe
■o much rcspL-ct to the name she bore ; that she misiit
disappear from society, live as she chose, marry acoord-
iDg to licr iacliuation?
Yes and no I At moments she abondonod herself to
the dream of obscure happiness wliich hitil come to her,
like a delightful vision, in Julien's studio. At other
times she became the Countess d'Estrclle agnin, and
asked herself, with terror, how sho oould break away
from hor surrouudings and habits, and, above all, endure
blame and contempt \ sho who, up to this time, had boon
so i^rcat a favorite in the small but oristocralio circle ia
which she moved.
It is well known that there wns at this time a Tiolont
and dosperate rooction in tlie aristocratie world agaiast
the inrasioos of philosophy, IN:rhaps no other historical
epoch presents such Strange contrasts 1 On ono sido pub*
lie opinion, qaeon of the future, was proclaiming doctrinos
of equality, scorn of social distinction, the philosophy of
Jenn Jacques Bousseau.of Voltaire and DidoroL On the
other hand, tlie cooslituted nuiboriiies, terriHeil by a prtH
gress which tho^ tiod not, dared oppose, were now too
late trving a resistance, whose only effect wns to plunge
thorn mto no abyss. SlIU, to one whose horison wu link*
ited, and who could not foresee the morrow, this reaisU
uoi appeared fbmidable ; ud a timid and gintlo wonua
IlS ANTOHIA.
like tba CoonttM d'EctreUo, wm toij tuaorally ftUrmed
bj it. Ltkfl All of hor clou, iha imnginod Ihnt the con-
doct of tbo court would dotorminB tho dcstinj of Franco.
Aad tbero wcra momonti, jiist Kt thnt time, wlioa iho
tenifled kinj did liia iMtt to rosDuilalo tlio monarcli/
of Lonia XIV. Hit «fibrU were pitiful, and ntterl/ ute-
Ibm ; bat, regarded from a certain poiat of view, tliojr
•pprared of nifficieat importanca to irritate the people,
rad aogment the pride of the pririleged dauee. The
cotnt end eitr bad proclaimed the triumph of Voltaire ;
oa the da/ after that triumph, tho clergy refused to grant
liim a tomb. Uirobcau had written a chef d'ccurre
uainat the arbitrarj power of tho leUre ib cacA«<. The
km2 bad laid, ia speaking of BcnomnrchaiB, — " If hii
piece is plajed (the Mnrriago of Figaro), tho Sostile
mast bo torn down I " Tho ihini estate was constantly
iitercaaiog in inlolligcncc, ombiiion, nnd real importnoco ;
the oouit hod reestablished the privileges of rank in the
ormT as well as in tho clorgj, and hnd decided, — wlial
Cardinal Bicbeliou would not bare dared decide, — that
in order to become ao officer or prelate, it shonid bo noc-
MMTT to prove four gcaerationa of nobilitj. Tbo Amei^
icao CoDstitutioa hod just proclaimed ilio principles of the
Contntd Social of Jean Jacques Rousseau ; Wosluogton
aod lAfkjette were dreaming of freeing (heir slavea, aad
Ibe Freoch minister had granted new encouragement (o
tb« ilare trade ; the lower ranks of tho clergy wore
beeoiaiag mora and more democratic, da/ by dn/ ; Sor-
boDM was seeking a quarrel with Bufiba, and Ibo higher
•cclesiasttci bad demanded a new law for reprtuing tk«
art e/ wnling ; publie opinion had raised ils voice against
capital Minishment ; esamtaolKm fry torture was in full
vigor. The quean had protected Duumarcbala ; Ba/nal
war (breed to become an exile.
Tbeae attempts at r«action, amid the general teodea-
dea of tho age, were repcatod ia derout circles. The
principal nol^y, however the/ may have difTorod in
etbar mqMcU, apvod hi blaming time of its members
who aUeirad the»Mlv«a to be aadaoed b/ tbo new philoe-
■f^. iiflanMrvMlTCMlooiw,th«Uii| and qnMB wait
ANTOSiA.
119
OTOrwhclmod with curBoa and sarcnsnu, u non ns lliajr
•eomcd to abandon tlio tlicorica of tlio Itinf* good ptea^
vre. But, ns toon a* tlioy laid n »loao upoa tlio fcoblo
dam tkat wna crcctinff n^iiut tho rcvoluiiooarj Bpirit,
tlio dcTOlcca of llicso circles roaowcd ihcir allcgianco, nod
ima<:Incd ihatorcrj-lliiagwns saved; no odo luitpcclcd tbo
rapiililf of tlio torrent, and tlio QcaniCM of tho OTcrflow.
Scoffs, Bcome, and coricnturo* wore tlio order of tho
day. Tbo coming danger hu w nttcrly despind, thAt
it wot laughed to Bcom.
Tho Mt of pcoplo with whom Julio \ru intimate w«ro
timid and gontlo in dispoeition, liko Ucriclf, and wore
opposed to oxnggcration of every kind ; but, boyood
this little coterie, she full the laQuenco of a lorgor and
mora formidable circle, — that of the family of iho Count
d'Estrcllo, This haughty family disliked her, bocaiiso
■ha silently resisted their tyranny; and, altlioiigU sho
avoided them as miicli ns possible, slio suffered from tho
coosciousDcss of their displcosuru. Still bcj-oud tlii]) for^
midablo circle, another, yet mora powerful and mora
threatening, — tbat of the second wilb of the Marquia
d'Estrello, — cost a shadow over her life. Excessively
bigoted, opposed to every sort of progress, despising the
philosophers, openly hoslilo to the great Voltaira himself,
imbued with all the prejudices of birth, and angrily occu-
pied about the preservation of its protended rights, — thia
coterie inspired Julie with the greatest alarm, ller fear
may have been childish, but it was excessive and irro>
aistiblc. Tlio marchioness was known to be an avarieioua,
wicked, and treacherous woman ; and we have seen (hat
tbo Uaroness d'Aacourl herself, in spile of her canieiTi^ .
tivo ideas, spoke of her, as well os of her frionds, with tho
greatest aversion, Julio was but slightly acqunintod
witli her, and tried to believe her piety sincoro, but sUo
was afraid of her ; and when she asked bersolf why ah*
vu living in such a state of timidity and melancholy,
tho disagreeable spoetre of (his wiihorod personage, with
green eyes and pitiless tongue, appeared boforo lior, It
was tbereforo out of apprehension that sho tried (o dofend
tb« marcbioaeai is conTenation, and to silence bar
lao AitTONtA.
fiModi wboa tbej Ttotnnd to call h«r a ban? *i>d i^
bird of HIhniwiu
It WM <nly uUiral that poor Jnlie ahould detest ths
opinioM of the mArchioaeH and lier frionda, but she wai
too IiMi^erieoeed, and loo ignorant of Ibe genoral spirit of
tha age, to ondenland bow triflinstbo persecutions would
bo that sha wonid have to bravei if sbe bad resolved lo Hvo
•eeording to ber heart and conscience. She was sbnt op
la • littk cage of prejudices, like a bird who thinks that
Iho lamno b all ■ cage around it, and who no longer
ooiqnbeada the murmur of the wind among the trees,
•od the flight of other birds in apace.
"Itmajbo ibatthm anhappj people," she said to
fcsCTslf, ** bat tb^ are lor vrnvj I and how can I join
tbom?"
Thns it is, upon tbo eve of a terrible rcTolntion, that
iba prisooers of the post woep oror ihoir chain*, and
think the/ are riveted upon tbent for all alemit/, Usu-
•QjT, bowever, Julie forsotall these questions of external
&eU, to loae herself in vague reveries, and in secret
Mixieties, of a new kind. We will soon see what sbe wae
nflecting about, and how difficult it was for this generous,
bat timid heart, to enter into harmonj with itself.
KfleeD dajB had passed awa/ since the catastrophe of
Iba ^atoato, and Madam d'EatrcUe had neither seen or
beard of Jnlien. Sbe could almost have imo^oed that
ba bad iMTor existed, and that ber two interviews with
bimbad been a dream. Mmlam ThiorryUadnotcntarod
bar garden. Julie, verjr much surprised at ber absence,
had sent to ioquire about ber, and reooived word that sbe
was • little uawoU; — thero was nothing serious the
nattar, but she was obliged to keep her room.
She questioned Uaroe), bat without obtaioing an/ sat-
jafartioo; be repeated that bis aunt was somewhat indis-
poaad, bat eUoed into no details. Julie dared not
qge sti ea him brtber ; she saw plainly that her neighbor
voatad to break off tvorT' sort of rebuioo, even the most
{■diraet, between her son and herself. Finallj, Uadam
Thianj ra^paaied ooa moniaf , when the coanleas had
ceased lo expect her. loterrogated by Julie with dmiditf
eod reserve, she replied, with Kflcctionftto confidenea, —
"Mfdoar and well-bolored countess, joa must far-
don me far having hod a bod dream, which ia ntnr
diuipatod. Too liostj in jtidgio^, I allowed mjiolf
to be foolishl; alormod, and alnrmcd jron with my chi*
ncnis. I believed that my sod liod llio audocit/ to lor*
you ; believed it so firmly, that it bos required fifleea
days lo disabuse me of llio i<Ica. Forget what I told
you, and let my poor child enjoy oace more tlio respect
tliat be has never ccosod to dcsorvo. You oro not the
object of bis prayers and vows. lie venerates yon, as
ho ought to do ; he would dio for yoa, if necessaij ; but
bis fealing is not a romantic passion, but an ardent and
true gratitude. He swore that it was so ; I doubted his
word at first, but I was vrrong. I have observed, nay,
more, havo watched him for llio last fifteen days, and I
am reassured. - He eats, sleeps, talks ; ho is iatorast«d
in everything, ha comes and goes, works cheerfully ; in
B word, ho is not in love. He makes no cflbrt to aeo
you, he talks about you with tranquil admiration, ho aeeka
no opportunity of attracting your attention, and will
* sever do so. Pardon mo for my folly, and love me as
before."
Julio accepted this etatcmcDt, perfectly sincero upon
the part of Madam Thierry, with amiable satisfaction.
They talked about other things, and remained togethor
for an hour, after which tlicy separated, congratulatinff
each other that they would have no further cause ol
troublo, and would bo able lo renew their friendship
without agitation, and witliout fearing that it would be
dangerous to any ooo.
Wh^ was it that Julio felt so almngely sad after thia
Interview? She could not think of any good rcaaoa for
her melancholy, and laid the blame upon the visits
tliat she hod happened to receive. She suddenly di»-
covered that bar old friend Madam des Merges was no
insnpportoble gossip, that the old Duke do Quesnoy wu
tiresome and monotonous as a sledgo-hammor ; that her
ootuin, the wife of the prendeiu, was a prude, oad s
hjpoerit* ; uid that Um »bU (then wm slwajrs ao abbi
k vnrjarclm at that time) -was penooal and ineipid.
Visalljr, when Cainill« came Is make her toilette, she was
wets, and Mat bar awajr, aajing, —
"What's the tue?"
"ntn she recalled her capricioosly, and asked whether
Iha period of her balf-moumiDg bad Dot ended, three
d^beftn.
** Tea, madam," said Camille," it is realljr over] And
■■dam ii Ttrj wrong not to throw aside hor mooniiDg*
in w u a. If she wean tbem much longer, it will lo<4
Wfyhadlj."
•*Howeo,Canulle?"
" Peo|ile will mj that madam prolongs her regroti out
«f ceoDomonj, so as to wear out her gray drostoa."
"That is a very powerful reason, mjr dear, and I
yield. Uake hoste, and fariog me a roee-colorod dross I "
" Boae-oolored? No, ma&m, it is too soon for that I
The/ woold sajr that madam had worn mourning against
harwQl, and that she has changed her mind as qiiickiyos
har dresa. Uadam moat wear a pretty loilloite of ehini
ailk, royal bloc, and embroidered with while bouqnots."
" Vtrj welL Bat have not all my dresses got oat of
bshioB daring tba two yeara that I hare been in monm-
btgl-
**No, *"*^«'"i I hare taken care of that. I hara
' Bade the ■leeres orer, and changed the trimmings of the
vaista. With white satin bows, and a lace coiffure,
'- ■■iliui will be perfectly well dressed."
" Bat why sboold I care to dress, Camille, siooe I do
Mtazpeet anrriiilors?"
**Bas madam giren otdera that she was not at
kameT-
" Ho; hot I shall, since yoa hare suggested It. I
dooTt want to aea any ooa."
Caannia looked at her mistress In nrprise. Not tm*
dantaading her mood, she said to herMlf that madamo
had tbe bloas, and arranged her toilet without daring to
break lb* nlenee. Jnlie, sad and abatnotad, allowed
kwadf to be adoned. Whan the sarrant bad retired,
ANTONIA.
i»3
c&TTTing off tbfl gnj robes that Iind boconu bar pro^crtT^,
ebe looked ut hcneir from head lo foot, in m, lugo minor.
She wu flxqabitely dressed, and btmatiful as aQ angvU
Tberelbre it was that her heart again oied, W\o£» (As
«Mf She hid her face in her hands, and began to C17
likeaehOd.
V.
TF Julieo had beon a ron6, ho could not have punved
*■ R bettor course for winning Madam d'Estralle's hoart.
Da]r succeeded day, and thcjr never mot, oven b; accident.
And jrct Julio, either from an oxccss of confidence, or
from liecdlcESQCSS, passed more of her limo in horgnrdcn
than in tier drawing-room, and preferred a walk amid
its lonoljr groves to the conversation of her friends. On
some evenings slia shut herself up, under the pretence of
roaiiesanesB or weariness, and, at such times, dressed
elcgantljT, as if oxpcctiog some unusual visit. SUo
would wander to the very bottom of her garden, huriy
back in alarm at the slightest sound, return lo see what
had frightened her, and sink into a sort of amazed revcrio,
on finding tbot all was quiet and that she was rcalljr alono.
One day she received a declaration of love, quite well
written, and without signature or family seal. She was
very much offended; Julien, she said, had failed in all his
engagements, and deserved lo be treated with cold disdain.
On the following day, she discovered that lli is attempt hod
come from the brother of odo of her friends, and her first
feeling was one of joy. No, certainly Julion would not
have written in such tenns ; lie would uot have written at
all. The lovo-letter, which she bod thought exeoodingly
graceful, as long as her uncertainty lasted, now seemed
to her in very bad taste, and she throw it away with scorn.
But what if Jnlien should take the same means of com-
municating with ber. Doubtless ha wrote as wall as be
talked. Why didn't ha writs?
At Moa M J«U« had uk«d banalf tUi qneation, tho
•ooaeioaHMM of b«r own waakiwu nuula hor bloih pain-
" Whit Ii Ui* nM of nr Hlf-control lod mj nuOD,"
' aka aoid to heradf, ** if I u3ow mj bcftrt to go out in this
my in ponoit of • lovo that nroids mat RnXly I ua
vmfy prolMied bf Iho indiflbnoeo vHlh which I un r^
g™*— *, uid oroD thia ibMQe doot oot con me. ' Whj lun
I •» inoooaiiteat? I thought tt flnt that maj ndvADCo
B0« tho pvt of thu jooDg mui woald offend mo, nod
OMt X woold repolM him h«iightilj ; but, od tho oootrarj,
I am initsled by his submiuiveuen, wounded bjr hia
iilutw ; ^ BOgij wiib him because ha lua forgotten me.
ICj miod mnal be rery morbid." '
She was going into a perfumcr'a ahop one day, and met
Jalian at lb» door. Aa he hod no right to apcAk to her
1b public, ha pretended not to see her. She noticed npon
tba ooonter a pretty little fan, which he hod painted for
his mother, and had broaght to the atore to have mounted.
T— gi'^g that it woa intended for bar, aba made up her
■oind to refoaa it; but how impatiently aha waited for
Oia little preaent.
** He willaead it to mo mysterionaly," aha thought ; " it
win be an anonymoos offcnng, and then — "
The prcaent did not coma ; it hod not boon intended
tar her. How fboliah eho had bean to auppoae that it
waa I Julian waa in love with some other woman, a
patty bonrgeoise, or a woman of tho demi-monde, — an
■tti'iaa, perliapa. She could not aleep for two nighta ;
•ad than, aaddenly, abe aaw the fan in Madam Thierry'a
bnada, and broalbod again.
In ^l« of beriolf, aba conld not help talking about
JoUen with Madam Thierry, and ihera was no and to
Iwr darieaa for Unlag the converaalion to this lubjoct.
Sfca wnnlad to loan what aort of liA a young artist led ;
•■d ■I'tmigfc Tory much alraid of bearing diaagraeablo
•r pain&l details, asked qneations oontinnally. AlUr
iaqniriag about Iba taatea and habits of artists in gmeral,
Aa wotud rt&r saddanly to Jnlion. " Yoor son, fin- «x-
tmfhf' akm said oaa dqri ia tba ooarao of soeh a ooBTtiw
ANTON t A. Xa5
BatioD, ** muBt Lavo led a very brilliant and dissipated life,
— a veiy agreeable life, at all eyentSi — before bis iather'a
death and your present trials/'
*^ My son's character has always been serioas,'' replied
Kadam Thierry, ** and I must say that young people of
all classes seem to me very different at present from those
whom I knew in my youtli . My poor husband had a fertile,
brilliant, and graceful iinngination ; ho was one of those
Krsons who fill life with unexpected pleasures ; far from
ing ambitious, and eager in the pursuit of glory, his
aim seemed to be the enjoyment of whatever is moat
agreeable. Painting c/icZ-cTceuvres, was his amusement,
and he allowed nothing to trouble him. The artists of
the present day are impatient to excel their predecessors.
They have invented criticism. M. Diderot, with whom
my husband was very intimate, often taught him to
appreciate his own works more highly than he would
have dreamed of doing ; and, when my little Julien lis-
tened to this remarkable man, devouring him with his
great eyes beaming with attention and curiosity, M.
Diderot used to say, ^ That child has the sacred fire.'
But my husband did not want people to put too many
ideas into his head. He believed that the beautiful ought
to be deeply felt, and not too much studied. Was he right
in this ? The imagination, he thought, ought to be adorned,
and not oppressed. Julien was gentle and patient ;«
he road and pondered a great deal. Ileal connoisseurs
admire his painting more than that of his father, and
when he speaks of art it is easy to see that he under-
stands it thoroughly ; but he is not so' popular with
people in general, and is very indifferent to society.
His mind is full of a great many subjects, in which he
is interested ; and when I say to him, ^ You do not
laugh, you are not gay, you have not the recklessness
that belongs to your age,' ho replies, *I am happy as I
am. I really do not care for amusements, I have so
many things to think abouU ' ^
These confidential conversations with Madam Thierry
gradually enabled Madam d'Estrelle to understand Julien ;
and the respect with which he had inspired her at first
■i^t. changed to a fMliog of tonder timiditj, UuU mode
htr lore him tha mora. It wu do longer poMiblo for
Imt to ragftrd him M ad ioferior, aud jrot this young artist
baloDgad to h cIom whom >be bod boon in tho habit of
baving called (Aom people I In talking with her IVioods,
dM lometuiiea tried to plead tho causo of the intelligent
•ltd TirtwKis, whatever might be their rank. Her frienda
irera aoffidenilj progreuire to reply, "You are pei^
finetly njgaX; birth is noUiiog, — it is merit alone that is
'" Bat these were mere maxims, which it was
Um iasbkHi for educated people to employ ; they meant
oothing. Doctrines of equality had not yet begun to
influence mamiera. The very name people who made
these remarks, woald not hesitate, a moment afterwards,
to blame rchemeatly a certain duke who bad given his
band to a plebeian for the sake of patching up his estates
with her dowry ; or some priucess, so captivated with an
iosigoifioant fortunc-buoter. that, to the disgrace of all
booest people, she had couscntod to marry him. Tlicy
would allow a young girl, or a young widow, to fall in
lore with a man of good family, oven although poor ; but,
if be werenot well-bom, she was the victim of a shameful
infatuation, — an immodest attraction ; she was sacrificing
ber principles to her senses ; marriage was no justiQcation ;
site fell into public contempt. Julie, who had olwoys been
.treated with so much respect and consideration,— the only
eoo^wDsatioQ of Iter melancholy youth, — shuddered wiih
borrar when sbe heard her friends talking in this way j
and if tlie object of her secret passion, at such moments,
bad entered bor little circle, apparently so liboml aad pro*
pessivo, she would have felt obliged to rise and say,
** What do you want here, monsieur ? "
But this little circle broke up at ten o'olook; and,
tea minntea afterwards, Julie was in her garden. She
gand i^on the little U^t in the pavilion, trembling like
While poor Jnlie was going through all this agitation,
Jalian was ecnparatiTely ealm. His intaBtiona yna% m
I
ANTONIA. 13^
sincere, so upright, that he reoorered hit moral health,
and imagined that he had rcallj subdued his passion.
<^No," he said to himself, **I did not deooiTe mj
mother ; ** the feeling with which Madam d'Estrelle in*
spires mo is that of friendship ; — a ^m intense, elevated,
and exquisite friendship, and not, as I thought at first, a
yiolent and fatal passion. Possibljr, indeed, I may hava
had this fever in the beginning ; but it was dissipated on
the Ycry day when I saw, face io face, this simple, good,
confiding woman; on the very day 'when I heard ber
sweet, pure voice, and comprehended thai she was an
angel, to whom I am unworthy to aspire* I am not in
love with her, in the ordinary sense of the word ; I lova
her with my whole heart, that is all, and I will not allow
my imagination to torment me. The grave has scarcely
closed over my poor father ; every hour is occupied in
laboring for my mother. No, no ; I have neither the
right nor the time to abandon myself to an absorbing
passion."
Marcel remarked Julien's tranquillity, and did not pay
much attention to the agitation that Madam d'Estrelle
sometimes betrayed. He called upon her ono day when
she had just returned from another visit to her fathei^in*
law, the marquis. He was considered out of danger, and
Marcel hoped that ho would consent, before long, to assist
his client more effectually.
*^ Oh, fnon Ditu I you take a great deal of trouble
about mc," said Julie ; ** but is it worth while? I assure
you that I should really like to be poor ; probably I should
not sulFcr from enuui so much as I do."
*^ And yet you look very elegant, and are going, I sup*
pose, to some great entertainment? "
*^ No, I shall take my dress off*. I do not intend to go
out. With whom can I go? I have quarrelled with
Madam d'Anoourt, my old convent friend, and she was
the only person whom I could visit alone in the ovening*
I am not intimate enough with my other friends to go to
> their houses without a chaperon. Madam des Merges,
\ who might accompany me, is horribly lasy ; my cousin, .
the wife of the president, is not received in the best so-
1
138 ANTONIA.
cittf , sod tbfl MarchionoM d'Orb« ia in tha eonntrf . I un
naUT laffcriiig &oni enoui, Uonsiour Thierrjr. I Rin too
auen aloiM, aad then ftn ft gTMt nuay daf* wbon I b»T«
not tfa« bevt to do snTthiog."
^lis was the fint time that Julie had eomptaiiMd
Marcel looked at her eameatlj, and reflected.
** Ton ought to hare some aiauaemeDt,''-be said ; " why
don't joa go to the theatre •ometimea?"
** Z have no box ao/where. Toa know that I eaonot
aifafd to keep ODe."
" Why shoiild that prerent yon from going whererer
joa dioaee? Keeping a box the year roaad u a sort of
■laTOTT'. It makes yon eonspicuoos, and compels roa
to have a daperon. We bourgeois allow onrselTSS little
dlTenions at slight expense, and reqairing no inconre-
aient display. This oreoing, for example, I am going
ttr take my wife to the Comidie-Franeaue. We hare
hired a doeed box on the gronnd-floor."
"Oh, bow delightful to go there 1 Yon cannot be seen
•t all, can yon? Yon can ODJoy the play, laagh and cry
M much as yon choose, witlioot being criticised by the
gallery. Hare yon a place for me, Monsionr Thiernr ? "
** I hare two. I intended to offer one to my annt.
**And the other to her son? Then — "
" That makes no differeoce : he can go another time ;
bot what will people think if they meet you in the lob*
bies leaning npoo the arm of yonr lawyer? Or, if yon
•re reoogniaed seated by the side of *T^■^"" Marcel
lUvry, what will they say?"
"Let tbem say what they choose. They will be rery
foolish to see anything wrong in that."
"I agree with yon, bnt people are rery foolish, and
Ibey irill say that yon are in low company ; na^, more, I
bare softened the word ont of respect for my wiA. They
wQI say that yon are in bad eompaoy."
" It is abominable, that poopw shonU be so fooli^ I
Toot wifb is a rciy amiable woman, I hare been toid,
■ad ts ran hi^y tbonghl of. I will call upon her to-
MOROw* fa I ninr that il wo«ld dM be polita to go to
ANTONIA. 129
her box without ceremooj, and without asking hor par-
miMioD beforehaDd. Yet, I moBt make her acquaint-
aoco ; and then, some time, we will go to the theatre to*
gether.^
Marcel smiled, for ho aodorstood perfectlj well the
fecliog of cowardice that had taken possession of hia
noble clicot at the idea of being accused of associating
with bad company. She considered the opinion of the
world cruel, unjust, insolent and absurd ; but she was
afraid of it, nevertheless, and foar does not reason.
'* You are perfectly right," Marcel replied. ** I recog-
nize your delicacy and good' heart in all that yon say.
My wife will thank you for your kind intentions, and,
from this evening, will be flattered to offer yon her box ;
but take my advice, countess, and do not leave your own
circle, cither this evening, or to-morrow, or at any time ;
at all events, unless you have some very good reason,
well considered and well matured, for doing so. Eat if
you are hungry, but do not force yourself to cat to grat-
ify a caprice. The world to which you belong wishes to
be exclusive, and you ought not to defy it, unless to
obtain some CTcat personal advantage, or to do a very
good deed. ' No one will believe that you are unconven-
tional merely for the sake of being so. People will be
surprised, at first, and then they will seek serious and
hidden motives to account for your simplest act.''
''And what will tlicy find?" said Julie, anxiously.
'' Nothing," replied Marcel, '* consequently they will
invent some story ; and gossip of that kind is always
malicious."
'* It follows, then, that I must be condemned to soli-
tude."
*' You have accepted it courageously, hitherto, and yon
know that it will cease whenever you choose."
'^ Yes, if I choose to marry ; but where will I find a
husband combining all the qualities required by the world
and by myself? Think for a moment I According to-yon
he must be rich, according to my friends noble, and, to
please me, he must be amiable and lovable. I shall
never find such a man, and I would do better—**
9
130 ANTONIA.
Julia darad not finish her sentence, end Moroel thought
1m had no right to question her. There was a pause,
which both found awkward; Julie interrupted it, bj
exdaimfaigf niddenlyf —
**Ah I men IKeu, dt> not ima^ne that I am tempted to
ibrgot my principles, and enter into a frivolous liason I I
meant,— I may as well say it, — that I should do better
lo seek happiness in an obscure marriage.''
^ It depends upon what you mean by obscure I" said
HareeL **You ought to msistupon a fortune, at all
•rents; finr if jou giro rank the go-by, there is no
sort of doubt that the family d'Estrelle will abandon
you*
^Suppoeetheydo?''
^ If the husband of your choice is poor, and you bring
Urn a dowxy of debts — '^
** Oh, vos, you are right I I should add to his poY*
vtf all the anxiety, all the dangers, by which I am tor-
mented. I did not think of that. Sec how heedless I
am I Oh, Monsieur Thierry, there are some days when
I long to be dead 1 You are wrong not to take me to the
theatre ; I feci gloomy this erening, and should like to
forget that I exiiU"
** Is it so bad as that?" replied Marcel, earnestly,
alarmed 9X her distressed expression. ** Very well, then,
— ^put on a thick black hood, and a largo black man-
tle. There is a carriage at the door, — we will take it,
and call for my wife ; I will explain the circumstances to
her in a few words, and we will go and hoar PdyeucU.
That will change the current of your ideas. Be quick I
for if Tisiturs arrive, you will not be able to go."
Julie jumped for joy, like a child* She soon mufilod
herself up, gave her servants their liberty for the evening,
and started with MarceL Divided between fear and de-
licht, she was as much excited as if this little escapade
inOk a lawyer and his wife had been an alarming adven-
^ And Madam Thieny 7 ** she said, when they were on
^ha wav
•*W«wffl Imv* Mmiim TUttrj -mbm tU it," nid
I- m~*.»rmt^
ANTONIA. 131
Marcol ; ** I havo mdI her no iiiTitatioo, mud we ilumU bt
kept waiting while she WAt droning. Bctidesi if Yon are
rocognizod in spite of our procautiont , I prefer that yoa
should not he seen with a lodj who has a grown-up son,
—a jouog manf hj the way, of whom anelo Antonie was
very jealous. My son is a little rascali scarcely twelre
years old ; wo will take him, and that wiU complet o tho
party, —hourgooiso and pottioidisU*'* '" '^ "' » » ' * -^ '
Thoy stopped at Marcel's house. Leaving Julie shut
up alone in the carriage, he hurried in, and soon rotnmod
with his wife and son. Madam Marcel Thierry was a
good deal intimidated, but she was too intelligent to at-
tempt paying compliments; and, after a moment, ftlt
perfectly at case with the amiable Julie, who, finr her
part, thought her good and sensible. They got out of
tho carriage a little in advance of the file, walked to the
theatre, entered it without meeting curious or impertinent
loungers, and wore soon installed in a dark box, where
Madum Thierry and her son took the front seats, so as to
shield Madam d'EstroUo and the la^vyor. They listened
to tho tragedy with the greatest delight. Julie had never
enjoyed herself so much at the theatre. She felt pei^
fcctly free, and this hourgooiso family interested her.
She regarded them with curiosity^ as tho representatives
of a class that she know nothing about ; and, although
thoy wore a little restrained by her presence, husband,
wife, and child addressed each other with a tender fa-
miliarity that touched her heart. In the most interesting
scones in the play, Madam Thierry would turn to her hot*
band, and say, in a low voico, —
*' Dost thou see well, my dear? Is not my bonnet in
thy way?"
*• No, no, my child," the lawyer would reply, •• don't
trouble thyself about me. Take care of thyself."
The child applauded when ho saw the pit applaud.
He would clap his little hands in an important manner,
and then suddenly would loan his head upon his mother*s
shoulder, and kiss her. That meant that he was einoying
himself ver^ much, and thanked her for bringing mm.
These smiple manners, characteristie of the middk
133 ANTONIA.
dasteSf — tbb teodor Aee and <Aott, — these carcssiog
epithets, at the same time so familiar and so sacred, —
sometimes made Julie feel like laughing, and then again
moved her so deeply as to bring tears to her cjres. Anj-
thtngof the kind would have been reputed bad stjle in her
circle ; this was the waj in which common people lived
and talked. In Madam d'Estrelle's drawing-room, Mar-
eel assumed skilfully the language and bearing of a man
of the world acquainted with all classes of society. In his
lioosehold he thj^w off this formal manner, and, without
ever being gross, adopted the familiar tone that is natural
between intimate friends. Julio, therefore, surprised him
forgetful of his ceremonious bearing, — living to please
himself in a moment of cheerful ease and relaxation. At
first, she was both shocked and charmed ; but soon she
said to herself that these people were right ; that it would
be better for all husbands and wives to call each other ihte
and thou^ for all children to lean upon their mothers, and
all n>ectators to show an interest in the play. In aristo-
cratio circles, people said you; thoy had no tender, heart-
felt epithets,—- thoy refined away the meaning of every
sentiment. Elegance was the first consideration in lan-
guage, dignity in deportment. The heart could find
expression only accordmg to rule ; it was obliged to hide
its impulses, or clothe them in an affected and symbolical
style, thai had given birth to the madrigal. Admiration
for genins was never allowed to rise to enthusiasm. They
aajoY^df appreciated ; their words were all carefully meas-
wncL Finally, they made it a rule never to be betrayed
into showing any emotion ; and, in this perpetual simper
of aristoeratie grace, became so charming, that they al-
most ceased to be human.
Madam d*EsU^le now, for the first time, noticed these
tlibgs, and thought about them seriously. The little
Jolio, —as he was called to distinguish him from Julien,
his godiather,— had an interesting face. He was a com-
ical little feUow, with a well-formed head, tomed-upnose,
brilliaat ereSf saicastio mouth, and the cool, impudent
mamier of a schooM>oj making the most of his vacation.
Sveo if he had been disgnised like a ffrani mfnimr% it
ANTONIA. 133
would have been impoBsible to oonfoand him with U&e
genuine little nobles of the day, — so Teij prettj, pofita,
and polished, that it was almost impossible to tell themi
apart. Julio, no less tlian themselves, had the at jlo of
his class, but this did not deprive him of his piqoaoqr*
Each person in the middle class mnst live for himself^
and make his own way according to the qualities that ho
possesses, and hence the bourgeois genius does not sook
to elTuce individuality. The child had a bright mind,
and his eager curiosity betrayed his Parisian descent.
He was at the same time inquiring and afibetiooate,
discemiog and credulous. To keep him from getting
hold of Madam d'Estrello's name, which he might hnve
repeated in his father's oiBce, his parents had told him
that she was a client who had recently arrived in Puis,
and that this was the first time that she had seen a play.
Julie amused herself by asking him questions ; and, hie-
twcen the acts, the little fellow did the honors of the eap*
itul and the theatre. lie showed her the king's box, the
pit, and chandelier; and even explained the play, and told
her about the relative importance of the characters,
^^ You are going to see a very beautiful piece,'' he said,
before the curtain rose ; '^ you will not understand it very
well, perhaps, because it is in verse. I read it with my
godfather Julien ; he likes it very much, and he explained
it all to me, just as if it had been in prose. If there is
anything you do not understand, mademoiselle, you most
ask me." {r
'^ You are chattering like a magpie,'' said his mother;
*' do you suppose madam does not understand the great
Comcille better than you do?"
*^ Maybe she does ; but perhaps she is not so learned-
as my godfather/'
** Madam does not care about the learning of yoor god*
father I You imagine that every one knows him."
*^ If you don't know him," said Julio, turning to Madam
d'Estrelle, ** I will show him to you. There he is. eloee
by."
** What I " said Marcel, feeling very much annoyed |
**ishohere7 Doyoasee him?"
134 ANTONIA.
**T6t, I have seen him this good while. Ho lores
PolTOQCte ever so mach I He's seen it played moro than
tea times, Tm sure. Thero he is, id the pit, throe
beiidies off. His back is turned, but I knew him right
off; he has got on his black coat, and opera hat.*'
' Usdam d*£strelle's heart beat violently. She looked
at the bench to which the child pointed, but recognixed
no one. Marcel did the same, with a like result. Julio
was mistaken ; the person whom, he had thought to be
Jnlien turned, and.prored to be a strauger. He was in
the theatre, however^ in the second gallery, just above
Uaresl's box, and far enough from imagining that,' by.
descending to the ground-floor, he might have seen
Madsm d'Estrelle. But, even if he had known this, he
wooU have repiained in his place. His resolution no
longer to seek chance interviews with the countess was
sot to be shaken.
As an artist, he had his entrances to the Comidie-Fran*
caise. He listened intently to Polyeucte, as a devout person
listens to a sermon, and went out before it was concluded,
because he was afraid that his mother would sit up for
him. In crossing the vestibule, he was very much sur-
prised to meet uncle Aotoine face to face. It was uncle
Antoine's invariable habit to go to bed at eight o'clock,
and probably he had never l^fore entered a theatre.
Jnlien greeted him cordially ; it was the best way, even
if he was repulsed.
** Yon have returned, then,** he said ; ** we have been
Tsry anxious about yon.**
** Who do you mean by we?^ replied Antome, in a
■larly tone.
•* Marcel and L''
** You are venr good. Yon thought, I suppose, that I
iMid gone to the Indies, you seem so surprised to see me.''
• ** I acknowledge that I did not expect to meet you here.'*
^It was just the contrary with me; I was perfectly
tors that I should meet yon here."
This reply was quite enigmatical to Jnlien, and, with*
out ooodesoending to explain it| nnde Antoine turned
Ida back npoo him.
ANTOmA. X35
"IliBUMlcM to talk," thought Jnliw, "hianind is
Hriotuljr afibctod."
IIo pnucd on, but raturood sorcrol timos to mo whother
tbo horticulturist wu golag out or coming lo, ftnd judge
whctlicr ho really knuw whoro be wu, Uude Antoine
remftincd ilaDdiDg at tho foot of the ttiurcue, uid
stared at himwith e mocking BXprenioa, bat gave no
othor sigD of fronsj. .
A fow EoomoDta oiUrwerds, ho wai lost in the crowd
filling tiio vestibule. Odo of tho lint groups that he saw
woa Iho familj of tlio lawyer, with an uaknowa ledy,
taller than Madam d'Estrello, and completely enveloped
in ft black hood. Undo Anloioe followed them to the
street, took the number of their carriage, end seut ia par-
suit of it tho adroit and skilful spy who hod iaformed
him that Madam d'Kstrelle was going out with her law*
ycr, and who, in all manner of disguises, and under all
sorts of pretexts, had been spying about, and •ometimee
' within, the hotel d'Estrolle for tho last month.
In those days theatres closed at en early hour, eo t»
to allow time for supper after the play. Julie, ofler re*
conducting Uodam Marcel to tbo street des Petiti Augut-
tins, arrircd at her house at about ten o'clock. Marcel,
who had escorted her, was going away witliout onloriug,
' when she recalled him. Ucr porter had just informed
her of an important piece of news: the ohl marquis,
her father-in-law, hod diod at eight o'clock that OToning,
just ns they ioukginod that he ivas cured. They hod
sent for Julio, so tliat she might bo present when ho piu^
look of the BOcramonts. Her absence, which it would bo
difficult to account for, on account of tlie peculiar position
that she hod herself explained to Horoel, might hare the
most fatal consequences.
"Ah, that is what mode me feel so I " said Moreol
onzioudy, and in a low voice, as they stood together upon
the groat front stops. " I tohl you not to go. I felt a.
presentiment of some danger; but there is no tuo in
lamontiug over what cannot be helped. The most alarm-
ing thing is tho suddon deotli of the old man. Come,
nodeia, 70a miUt moke haste to ■bow Tonnelf at Ua
igS ANTONIA,
bed-ddtt. G«t Into the carriage again, and I will ac*
corapaoryoa to jroar mother-in-law's house, I will not
go in, lor it wonld not do for 70a to make this visit of
condolence escorted b^ jma lawyer. To-morrow, I will
-Uka the field in jronr behalf, nnd wo will learn the con-
tants of lh« will, if, as Ood grant, (here is a will."
Julie, rerj much agitated, got into the carriage.
"Stop n moment," said Marcel, " I cannot wait for
ra at Um dowager's door ; lier people would see me, and
bare an idea that tboj tell their mistress ererjrtliing.
Ton will hare to drop mo before drivicg into the court ;
and, as I should not liko 10 ham jrou return alone in this
cab, jroa had better order Tonr serranti to bav* jronr ear-
cii^ got ready and sent after jroa."
" You think of aTerTthiDg," said Julie ; " I don't know
what would become of mo without yon."
She gave directions, and they started.
" You must remember another thing," said Marcel,
while iher were driving; "you will not find tho widow
in tears, but at her prayers ; do not be reassured as to ■
bar state of mind by this apparent sanctity. Be sure that
•be boa taken note of your absence, and will be prepared
to subject you to an examination in tho very midst of her
orisons. Do not forget that she hates yon, and, as an
axcose for robbing yon, would like nothing so well as to
And yon out in a fault."'
Julio wondered bow she oould beet explain her inbt^
ecnt adventore.
"You will find nothing better to say than the tmtfa,"
•aid Marcel ; " toll her that yon wera at my house."
" If that were all ; — but the play I In the ayes of my
Bo(beMO-law, going to the theatre is « friglitful sin \ she
would consider it so, whoever had accompanied mo."
*' Don't refer to it, then ; say that my wife was sick,
—that you feel a friendship for my wile, — because, —
beeaose she has done you some service, — because she is
vliaritable, and helps you in dobg good. Burnish it op
with a little vamish of devotion; who will blame yon?"
Tbay arrived at tbeir destination. Marcel stopped
the euriaga, jomped oat, and Julia drovo into lb* ooort
ANTONIA.
m
or tbo hole! d'Onnonde, rn« dc Gnnelle-SuDt-Gsmuua.
Tliifl hotel woa the propertjr of the Donger d'Ormondo ;
BiDCo her second Boarrikga with the Uarqaia d'BBtralle,
tho nmrquia had lired with her io the house of h«r fint
husband.
The downgcr wu vciy rich, a&d hor honae bod a
statcl/t hut forbidding nod formal upoct ; ah« had few
servants, nod mode but litlla displaj ; all was splendid,
cold, and lifeless. The hotel consisted of a number of
buildiogs, tho principal one of wliicb, contoiniDg the apart-
ments occupied b/ tho marchioness, stood in an isner
court, enclosed by a grnting. At this grating Julio was
obliged to slop and ring, but, sure of being admitted,
and knowing that Marcel would hare to return on foot,
unless ahc sent tiio carriage after him without delay, alia
dismissed tlio coacltmao as soon as she saw ■ome ono
prcpariug to open the door.
Instead of admitting Iior, the porter entered into a
strange discussion. The marquis could not soo any ono,
ho said, because he was dead. The priests hod como
to odminislor the sacramonts, and the marchioness was
shut up with him and tho deceased. Sho could giro
audience to nobody at such a lime. Julie insisted ia
vain tliat she liad, as a near relative, a right to outer.
Tlio porter, cither intentionally or from forgelfulooas, left
hor stauding outside tiie door, and went to inquire. Ro
turning, he informed her that modamo bad giron strict
orders that she was not to bo disturbed.
As theso negotiations Lad lasted for sonM> lime, tbo
Countess d'BIstrello felt no sort bf doubt that the mai^
chionoss had been communicated with, and had refused
to receive her. She had fulfilled her duty, and had noth*
ing further to urge. Her carriage ought naturally to haro
como a great deal faster than the cab ; thinking that it
must bare anired, she retraced her steps, crused the
first court, and went oat at the street-door, which was
kept by tho wifo of the porter, who immediately, with
rode haste, shat it after her. Theia was really a earrioga
io the street, but, in spite of her short-aightedaoM, Jabe
■aw at once that it was only « cab.
SoppouDg that the ffffflu"" had not nadentood h«r
ordtr, or that Uarral had aent him back as a precaution,
aha imagioed that this.wM tba rorjr carriago In which
aba bad ooow, and eallod th« driver, who had falleo -
fut aaleep npon hia seat. It was impossiblo to whIm
him witbont paUing the flap oMtis cloak. Those who
nmember what cabHlnTOrs were fort/ jrears ago, can
jodga what they were tarty yean earlier. This one
was ao dirtr, that Jnlie hesitated to touch him with her
B^ed band. She held up with care horample silk skirts,
so that they might not nib agiuoat the muddy wheels.
NoTor bad abe bean in such an embarrassiog position t
Sba was frightened at being olooe in the open street at
near midnight. The few poople who passed, stopped and
star*d at bw, and she trembled lest, out of kindoess or
, thoy would offer to como to her assistance.
finally the coachman woke up ; and stated, in reply
lo her questions, that he did not know her, that ho had .
broagbt two priests of the parish lo admister to a ijiag
man, and bad been ordered to wait for ihom. He would
not mora for any consideration. Julie looked around
anxionsly. Her carriase did not arrive. She lifted the
heavy knocker of the door, so as to return to tlie court
of tba hotel, but knocked in rain. Either special orders
bad bean given aboat her, or the porter was always in-
flaxibla ; at all erents he did not opoo the door.
She boeamo exoossivoly alormod. The idea of going
ftwayaloDO, and on foot, was not to bo thought of ; to ro*
naio standing before this door was equally impossible,
Tbora was not a single storo in sight ; and, provided that
it was not in the street, she wonld have to wait for her
caniage, it mattered not where. The dependences of
tba hotel d*Onaonde extended quite a distance to the
right and left. An abbey was upon one side, and upoa
titf otiter was the eonrant of the Visitation. There, per*
b^a, aba might have obtained shelter, bat it was quite a
liiiiaifrt offi and, after walking ten minutea, at least, to
gat to it) aha woold bare bad to enter into a discussion
bafora being admitlird, Oppoaiu the hotel d'Oraonda,
than wna • tall gntbig, aaoloaing an alley nidwi^ ba>
AltTOIftA.
139
tTrMQ the hotel do PaiuoBX, Aod ihs hotel d'Eatriu.
Thinkiag ibat sho might persiude the keeper of ihia gnt-
iog to let her wait in his room, \>j giriag him a loais, ah*
crossed the street ; bat, when npoa the poiot of ringing,
noticed ihat there was neither a keeper nor a boU. It
was a priyate gate, nsed onlj hj ih« owners of the two
enclosures. Julie lost courage \ and whea, just at this
moment, a man appeared snddenlj bj her side, at if be
had risen from Hie earth, she waa w frightened that she
came T0T7 near Minting. As soon as bo named hiniMlf,
bowerer, she uttered on exclamation of J07 : it was Jo-
lien. Sho ezphiined h«r mishaps in a few omtfasod
words, which Julion, as ho was alreadr partly aoquaioled
with the facts, and had not come to this place hj "bfiwii,
understood without difiicultj.
** It is useless for jrou to wait here £>r yoor carriag*,"
ho said ; " it will proboblj be some time before it ar>
rives."
" How do you know 7 "
" I went this OTeoing to Iho ComMio-Fraocaise."
" Did yoD see mo there i
" Were you there, madam? I did not know it,"
"Then — "
" That enables me to explain my meeUog with H.
Antoine Thierry, and his remarks. He, wiihont doubt,
know that you were to bo there, and was playing the spy.
lie mode an ironical obsarvation, which, alihougb I did
not uodorstand il, gOTo mo food for roflcction. In return-
ing to tho pavilion, I fult a little uneasy, and stopped
before your hotel. Your people wore in great excilfr
menu It seems that the coachman could not be found.
The porter knows me by sight, and seeing that he was in
trouble, I went up to hiin, and inquirod whether yon had
met with any accident. Ileinformod moof thedeathoftho
Marquis d'EatreUe, and of the fact that yon had boea
escorted hero by my cousin Marcel. The coachman, tn
tho meanwhile, amvod, dead drunk, and utterly incnp*
able of undorstandiag your orders. Tho porter left mo,
saying that Bastisn would go all right, when oooe upon
his seat. 'Sat being so phlegmatio u yoor pocUr, I
140 AHTONU.
hartmed to follow jou. H7 hopo wu to find Blareel
■tOl ben, KoA. wun bim not to leaTo job aloae with a
drnnkM) coftdiiaaD, but I wu % few minutei too Ule.
Too were mil/ »loae, and hkTfl boon reiy mach frigbt>
«aed."
** It ii orer," laid JtiUe. "I un ealm now. Tuke
BM bftdi on fi>oL Praridencv hu eent yon to be mj
gnide."
"Itiiloo fkrtogo on foot," replied Jnlien, "and
jvoor ebOM are not suitable for walking. The cab yon-
der shall carrj jron, with or without tbo eonient of th«
eoachnMD : I answer for that. I will ride on lh« onl-
■ida, and will rocondnct 700 in safety."
Joliea lod Madam d'Estrello to the carriage, pnt her
into it, and ordered the coachman to drive on. Ue re-
fused. Jnliea jumped upon the aoat by hid side, toolc
tbe reins, and swore that he would throw him into the
rirer if he oSerad any resistance. Tbo noble bearing
and dolermined air of the young man frightened hjm ho,
that bo submitt«d ; but, before they bad gone . a hundred
rods, he stopped, and began shonting, " llobbory I Mur-
der I " A group of men wera coming from a house, and
tbe poor dovil hoped that they would como to his assist*
kooe, and enable him to resist Julion's violent assault.
Chance decrood that these persons wore fashionable
young men, just coming from a late supper, and a good
deal intoxicated. It was (»ie of those momonta of oxciie-
nent when people aro very ready to bocome the redrcsv
on of wrongs, especially if tbey aro four to one. Thoy
ridily stopped tbo horses, and one of them tried to open
eairiago door i for the malidons eoachman cried at
the top of his voice, —
'* Help I belp I A villain numing away with a nun I "
'*Let OS MO whether she is worth tbe tronblol" cried
tbo gronp, with one voice*
Beforo tbey oonU get the door open, Jnlien was upon
Us Cset, and bad repulsed tbe forenost of these inquisitive
gallants in an onergetio maoiter. Th« young man so
roog^ baodled bmn to iasak bim, and drew his tword ;
Ut conipaaiOM feUowwd bit iMapla. Jnliaa had -no
ANTON/A. 141
timo to draw his sword. IIo defended himself with his
cttuo, ftnd used it witli so much coolness, vigor and address,
tlint one of his oppoocnts fell, and tho othors draw back.
Jiih'oo, who had not left the carriage steps, took advan*
tugo of this fortunate respite to jump in and lift Jolit
■ \ out bj the opposite door. After carrying her some dis-
. i tance in his arms, he stopped, and turned to wait for his
adversaries ; but, either seriously wounded, or sobered by
the approach of tlio watch, they were hurrying rapid^
away in tho opposite direction.
*' Walk quickly, madam," said Julien to Madam d*Et-
trelle ; ** lot us avoid the curiosity of the police.**
Julie walked quickly and well. Fear had paralysed
her for a moment, but the sight of the danger to whidi
her protector was exposed, restored her energy. After
making several turns to mislead the police, they came out
in safety upon the new street, now called tlie boulevard
dcs Invalids. It was scarcely built up at all, and, at this
hour, was completely deserted. Julie had not noticed a
stain upon her gloved hand, but she felt the moisture of
the blood upon her wrist, and pausing, cried, — -
** Ah 1 mon Dieti^ you are wounded 1 '*
Julien had not felt anything, and was sure that he was
not seriously hurt. He tied up his wounded hand in a
handkerchief, and oiTcred Julie his other arm.
** I assure you that it is nothing," he said ; **and what
if it were? Unluckily, my opponents were not very
formidable, and I dcsen'o but little credit for driving
them off. Handsome dandies I PciiU^naUru / And
yet these ore tlie people who constitute our nobility.**
**Do you despise the nobility so mucli?'*
** I do not despise them, but I hate impertinence ; ond
OS nobles are not always ready to fight duels with plebei-
ans, I am very glad to have thrash<^ them as a plough-
boy would have done.**
^* Alas I *' said Julie, thinking aloud, ** and yet these
people have the power to insult and to oppress the
feeble.**
'«The feeble I Who do you mean by the feeble?*' re-
plied Juliea, misnuderstanding her. ** The man without
I4> ANTONIA.
a titk? UndeceiTe jounelf, madam ; it is to this man
that the ibtim belongs, for he has npon his side right,
real jostioe, and the determination to orerthrow the
abuses of the past.**
Jnlie did not understand him, and began once more to
tremble ; not because she was sUll afraid of meeting their
enemies, but at the mjstorious power that seemed to bor
to emanate from Julien. She gased upon him stealthily,
and thoo|;ht his countenance shone m the moonlight.
8be imagmed that &er feeble hand was resting upon the
arm of a giant.
And jet Julien*s nature was perfectly simple ; a thor-
oo^ artist, he was not at all ambitious, as far as he was
eooeemed, of a public career. Dedicated to art, pro-
posing to devote hb life to the study of nature, ho did not
' feel calhsd upon to play a ilory part in rovoliitionary tem-
pests. The terrible powcr.with which ho was clothed in
Julie's eyes, was only the reflection of tlie divine power
descending upon the new cUut ; — the class to which ho
belonged. He was one of the hundred thousand among
the millions of crushed and disappointed men, who were
soon to say, ** The measure is full, — the post has had its
day.^ The state of feeling to which he had referred was
almost universal, and allusions to it were constantly being
made; but Madam d'Estrelle did not know this, and
imagined that she had listened to a momentous pro-
phecy, uttered by an exceptional man. This was the first
tame she had ever heard opinions and customs that* she
regarded . as invincible, braved and despised. A feel-
ing of ardent confidence mingled with the superstitious
terror that she experienced ; a desire to lean so much the
more upon this vigorous arm, which* animated bv a
noble heart, had just defended her, singly, against four
^ You think, then,** she said, continuing to walk rap-
idly, *«that it is possible to shake off the yoke of this
uiynst world which oppresses conseienoes and condemns
ideas? . I wish I could believe so.**
*^ You do, sinoe you wish to believe it.**!^
^ Fsrhaps ; but iriiea will this state of freedom begm 7 "^
ANTONIA. 143
**No ODO knows how or when; wo only know thai
jastiee must finally prevail. The present state of thinga
may last fifYy, or it may last a hundred years longer.
Why sliould you caro, madam? You are ono of th ose
who profit innocently by the misfortunes of others.**
**No iudcod; I have no advantages at alL I havo
nothing of my own, and am nothing in the -world/' .
*^ But you are of the world,— yon belong to it ; at is
bound to protect you, and would never wound you per-
sonally."
•• Who knows? '* said Julio.
Fearing that she had said too much, she reverted to
their late adventure, to change the subject :
*« It frightens me to think,"* she said, ** that a great
misfortune might have occurred I Ah, your poor mother I
how »ho would have cursed mo, if I had occasioned — "
*^ No, madam, that could not have happened," replied
Julion ; '^ I had the right on my side.''
«« Do you believe, then, that Providence interferea in
such cases ? "
^* Yes, since Providence is within us. It gives stiwngtli
and presence of mind. A man who is defendlnff the
honor of a woman against villains has every chance m his
favor. It is easy for him to bo courageous ; he feels that
he cannot yield."
**IIow much faith you have," said Julie, deeply moved.
^^ Yes, I remember, you told me when you were at my
house, the other day^ that faith removes mountains, and
that you were faith in person."
" The other day I " replied Julien, simply, ** why it
was more than a month ago 1 "
Julio dared not acknowledge that she did not know how
many days and nights had succeeded that brief interview.
bho was silent. Julien was so respectful that he would
not resume the conversation of his own accord, and the
longer it lasted the less capable she felt of breiaking it,
without betraying her emotion. Finally they reached tha
pavilion.
«« Do you not think," he said, ** that I ought to leavm
you here, so that I may not be seen by your people?
144 ANTOniA.
I wiD foDow at a distonoe, until 70a are safe within the
door of year hotel.**
^ Tee,** she said, «* bat what will my people think to
•ee me retorn alone, and on foot, at such an hour? Stay,
—.1 had better go through the pavilion into my garden ;
thqr will imagine that M. Ifaroel escorted me.**
Li fact, that was the best way. Jnlien had his kej,
and opened the door.
'* I will wake mj mother,** he said, ** and she will get
op and receive you ; in passing just now, I told her not
to wait for me. She imagines that I have gone to take
■upper with MarceL**
** Do not disturb her, I will not allow it I It would
take too long to tell her about our adventures to-night ;
and, half awake, she would feel alarmed. You can tell
her all to>morrow. Open the garden door for mo, and I
will escape in silence. Thanks, and adieu I "
The/ entered the pavilion; the narrow hall loading
from the street-door to that of the garden, which tliey had
to cross, was perfectly dark. In this poor estublishment
thev could not afford to keep a lamp bumiug uselessly,
and Babel was only a day-servant, and did not sleep in
the house. Julion went first ; he opened the door promptly,
bowed deeply to Madam d'Estrelle, and immediately shut
it, so as to show her pUiuly that ho never crossed the
threshold ; he did not preteod to follow her, even with his
fjtB^ as she glided along the walk like a shadow.
80 much discretion, such perfect respect, devotion
so delicate, so watchful, so active, and really efficacious, .
touched Madam d'Estrelle deeply. It was a magnificent
June night. ^ Her bed-room was upon the grouud-fioor,
overlooking the garden, and she knew that she could
arouse Camille, who was sitting up for her, by tapping
at the window. But she knew, also, that Camille s sit*
ting up meant taking a good nap on the best sofa in the
room, and she thought she could leave her, without
inhumanity, to watcu in this way for a' few minutes
kMiger. Her heart was full of emotion, — delieious
drsams floated through her mind ; she could not resist
the desire of sitting down iipoo the edge of the little lake,
ANTOmA.
»45
■o clear sod motionleu, id irbieb Um moon vu radaeted
ns in iho mirror of Venus.
Tho song of lUo niglitiogalo wu hnshed; ho wm
asleep OTor his young brood, Tho silonco was proToDiid ;
. ovcD Iho ccpliyr (tho brcczo of tboso daj-s) wu w
dcliclously drowty, thnt it did not alir a bkulo of gnus.
Pnris was aslcop also, at least id tho peaceful quarter, tho
oxtromity of which was marked \fj tho hotel d'Eotrello.
Vou were mora likely (o hear sounds peculiar fo tha
country than to tho city io this region ; at so late an hoar,
they wcro coDflncd to the occasional crowing of n cock and
the barkios of a dog, at long intcnals. Tlio chimos rang
out the hour of tho night, their swoct, silver roices echoing
each other from coDvcnt to convent ; then ecatotio ailenca
reigned again. If tho disiaQt rolling of some vehicle rat-
tling over Iho pavement of tho busy quarter of Paris
became faintly audible, it sounded rather like the loir
murmurio" of a wave, than a noieo produced by human
aclivily.
Julio, fatigued, and a little bewildered, inhaled with
delight tho calmness of tho night, tlio perfume of this sol-
itude. She tnnicd licr eyes upon a great whito alar
suspended in tlie lieaTcns, not far from tho moon, and
reUcctod in the same wave. For a time she thought of
nothing, remembered nothing,— she merely rested. But
suddenly she was seized with a violent palpitation of tho
heart ; it seemed to her oppressively hot, and (hen too
cold. She arose to go in, and went to the window of hor
bed-room, but did not knock. Botuming to tho atosa
bench, she sot down, and began to weep. Rising again,
she walked around the little lake, like a soul in pain, and
then paused, smiling, like a soul in bliss. She consoDlcd to
(juestion herself; and when her heart replied, " I lovo him,"
^0 was terrified, and would not allow it to speak. Then
sho asked her consoience what was the meaning of thia
terror, — this savage austerity, contrary to nature, naoloM
to God, which she constantly displayed. Her consdeDoe
replied that it had nothing to do with this stato of mind \
that it arooe, not from a sense of duty, but from prM>
A»e^— ft sort of fletitiooa oonacMaee that obligod naton
146 . ANTOSIA.
waA God to yield to coDTOitioiial ideu, — fear, calcok-
tioD, tha coiuideratioD of personal iolerests improperlj
nodentood. Accordiog to this wny of reasoniag, erery-
thiDg was measured bj Bix-franc piocoa. Blarccl bad
proved it to ber. Julio had no right to love, because eho
Dad Dot ooongh six-frano pieces. Was Marcel right?
Mtut ber tool be 8acri6ced to tho grossest of all facts, —
to tho implacable menace of misery?
" No," said Julie, " it shall not be I I will sell all that
X posiBSB) own Dothing, be poor, work,— beg, if necessary,
bat I will love. Besides, he will take care of me, b«
who already bo teoderiy cares for his mother. If he
lores me, ho wilt accept the additional burdeo that I will
be to him, and ^ecapt it with joy. In his place, I would
do as much."
Tormented by a strange agony, she began to walk to
and fro.
* " Does ho love me well enough to devote himself to
* me," she said, *< with the passion that I thought lie be-
trayed at our first meeting? Ahl I am continnally ask-
ing myself that quoslioD, and it torments me in vain ;
neither my conscience, my reason, nor my heart can re-
ply. Ho may regard mo merely with a feeling of friend-
ship. Ho \% a good son, and respects mo because I was
anxious to assist his mother. Ho is grateful, and proves
his gratitude by an admirable devotion. What more?
Why ahould I believe that be loves me madly, and longs
to pass bis life at my feet? It cannot bo that he foobi
this longing, sine* ho never seeks me except when I am
in need of his assistance. At other times bo is absorbed
by Active duties ; he devotes himself to his mother, bis
art, perhaps to some yonng girl of his own class, whoso
dowry, whan he marries her, will make bim well off,
while I, — involved in debt, — but am I so? ^rhnt if
my hosband's father has given me a fortune? How
changed my life will be 1 In that case, shall X forget this
yonng man so beneath me in position? Shall I marry a
man of rank, whoae aUiaoee will bring me honor and
distiDdioa? Neverl At present, it la hewbomi love,
•ad, ba aloBS t no kager an nnknown idaaL I kn« Um
AJfTONTA. 147
ftodldoDot knowwhelhorlcoa ever cbuiget— caaewr
forget. I fear not, since I have tried in vain to eonqner
mj heart ; siaco I am vooquished, when I forbid m^alf
to feel. My God, my God, lore thea ie a positive terror,
a [KMitive tortiire. It is the fear that he does not lovo ton
that is killiDg* me. How ahall .1 learn the tmth? I
will never do so, perhaps. How can I live without
kDowtag?"
While ttraa tormenting herself, she wandered heedleasljr
into a aide-walk, quite near the pavilion. The door waa
open, a dark shadow detached itself from the hooM.
Julien, as if he hod heard her Ihonght, as if he bad
beeo irresistiblj drawn to reply to it, came straight Vf to
hor.
Julie immediately recovered hor self-possession and
prido. Surprised, sho was going to oddrass him like an
ofieaded queen, but ho did not give her time to speak.
" Why are you hero, madam ? " ho said ; " will ao ons
open the door for you ? Are your people all asleep, or
waiting for you on the other side of the hotel? Yoa
cannot pass the night in this garden, dressed as you aro.
It is two o'clock in the morning. The dow is folliag ;
you will tw cold, — ill. And see, your hood is on your
shoulders, your licad is bare, your arms are scarcely eor-
ered. Stay, bore is a cloak belonging to my mother ;
take it, and pardon me for being here."
"But how did you know?—"
'* I hoard yon walkin;; ou tlio sand ; ^ hoard a light step,
that could ouly be yours. You stopped every few mo<
ments, but always began again. I was in my studio ; the
door was half open. I said to myftelf, *Sbe is still out
of doors, she cannot make herself heard, she is cold, —
fatigued, suSoring, alarmed, perhaps.' I could no longer
remain withb. Besides, it was my duty — , No, madam,
such a stale of things could not coniioue. Whatever
may be said or thought, I do not wish to see you dio."
At last Julion was moved, his voice trembled aa ha
■poke, his hands trembled as ho placed his mother's oloak
around Julio's shoulders. Hii agitation, however, did
Bot proceed from on efibrt to resist the impnlMs of paa>
148 ANTONU.
•ion ; he was troubled and excited at a father ia whose
child 18 in danger. It did not oven occur to him that ho
eoold be accused of seeking Julie with a selfish or treach-
erous design. Foraetting all couTentionality, thereforcy
be expressed his solicitude in an ardent tone, that com-
pletelj OTcrwhelmed 'her. She seized both his hands in
bars, and, carried away bj an impulse of exalted passion,
—-the first of her life, — as unexpected as it was ungov«
emable, — cried distractedlj, — -
'*Tou love mo, yon lore me I I am sure of it I
Speak I tell me that it is so ; —lot me hear it, know it ;
you lore me as I wish to be loved 1 "*
Julien stified a cry, and, obeying a first impulse, car-
ried Julie into his studio. But he recovered in a mo*
ment all the respect wludi he naturaUr felt for a person
of her extreme purity of character. Falling at hor feet,
he covered the tips of her icy fingers with kisses, and im-
plored her not to doubt him.
'* Have confidence in me/' he said, *^ I have sworn that
I would be your brother ; I will be like a brother to you
now. Do not doubt me, for it is your confidence that
will save me. I told you tliat I adored you, and it was
true, —> how true I did not know myself! My love is
stronger than you think, — more terrible than I myself
imagined ; but I would kill myself rather than cause you to
shed a tear 1 Do not be alarmed, -^ you shall never blush
for having ordered me to love you."
Would he have been able to keep his word? Amid all
the delirium of his joy he believed that he would, and
Julie added to his strength by her courage.
^ No, I do not want to blush," she said, with the frank
sincerity of an earnest love, ** I intend to be your wife.
Frivolous intrigues are not suited to a man like you ; to
a woman like me gallantry is impossible. Bather than
forget my honor, I also would kill myself. Julien, what*
ever may happen,— whether I am rich or poor, — for
there b an equal chance of the one as of the other, — let
usswear that we will be married. If lam poor, yon must
Boi lose courage ; without weakness, without faltering,
joa mnsl support, cherish me. If I amridbL^'M^ twdfi^
ANTOHIA. 149
prido must keep yon from sharing my ftUo. L«t u u-
raago all our plana now, — decido, — bind oarMlTM by
«D onth. I wnrn you that I am not eooragoona, and
Ihcrcfora I wish to be engaged too far to retreat, for then
I know that I ahnll look neither to the right nor left-
Fidelity to my lovo will bo my duty, and tliat thought will
give tno'strcngth, decision, coolness. True religious prin-
ciples enabled me to ncccpt despair iu my married life ; I
will accept happiness now, and will strugglo to bo happy,
■s I have struggled, hilhcrto, not oven to desire (o bo ao.
Swear, nay friend I wo must be all to eacli other, or navor
meet again ; for it is certain that wo lovo each other, and
that onr lovo is slrouger ihnu oiirsolvos. The world hu
nothing to do with this. For tho lost filleGii days I have
no longer lived, — it lias scorned to me that I was dyiajr.
To-day I do not know tnysclf; just now, if you had told
roe that yon did not love me, I should have followed you
in despair. Oh, no, no ! I should have thrown myself
to tho bottom of tho lake, with the moon and glittering
alar. Julica, I nm losing my senses ! I have never
said such things before ; I did not know that I would dare
■peak so, and I am talking so to you ; — what spirit is
apeoking through mo? Uavo pity upon mo, — sustain
me, — guard my honor, which is yours ; preserve for youjv
■ Bclf tho purity of your wife."
" Yes, my wife, I swear that I will I " cried Julien, in a
transport of euihusiosm ; " and you, Julie, swear also,
beforo God, that you will be mine ! "
" J/im Dlta I " said Julie, bewildered, and suddenly bo-
coming a little cowardly again, " and wo Lave only knowa
each other for n month I "
" No, not even for a month," replied Julien ; " a month
ago we met for quarter of an hour in this studio, and
for quarter of an hour in your house ; this evening wo
have passed half an hour together in the street ; so that
altogether we have known each other only for an hour.
We may as well acknowledge, Julio, that we do not know
each other at all, according to all appearances. But, not-
withstandiog, wo love each other I A love like thiseomea
from God. He haan ua now, and comprobesda all that
««£»el; for H wu Hit wiU tlwt we ihonld km ; Hedft-
" Ye», you mn right," ilia npli«d, with renewed en-
thouauiii iiupired once mora by her lorer*! exalted faith.
** We IcDOW nothing of each other bmnd the fltct of
mr rnntnel lore, la not that enongh? Doei not thii
ooiucMMunaai render eTerything elae sapeT^uoua ? What
remain*? -All that the world Knows of yon is tliat yo>
are a akilfal artiet, a worthy young man, a good bod.
Do I love you becouM you poaaeae these qnalitiesl
Ton hare beard people say that I am kind, gentle, gen-
ermu; but this is not the reason that yon love mol
Tbara are other good men, other estimable women, for
whom we should never have dreamed of farming an af-
ftetion. We love bocanso wo love, — that is the whole
** Tes," replied Jnlien, " love is like God ; it is because
b is, — it is absoluUl What matters it that we shall
discover ia each other, hereafter, such and snch pecu-
liarities of mind and character f The great, the absorbing
interestof our life, is oar affection; sure of that, we have
known each other a hundred years, ^forever, — love
boa neither beginning nor end."
Tbev talked in this incoherent way for mora than an
hour, m low voices, in the studio, vaguely lighted by the
moon glimmering through the tree*. Julie was seated ; '
Julion knelt before her, and held her hand* in his, ol-
thon^ they had not ventured to exchange a kiss. The
moon was unking towards the horiion, and yet the light
became stronger and stronger: they were obliged to
confess that the dawn was breaking.
Julie arose, and made her escape, after swearing, and
making Jolien swear » hundred times, that their union
CamiUe was verjr mtwh nrprised, when she opeiMd .
the door lor hisr nistnaa, to aee that it was neariy three
•'ek>ck.
"Are mypaopla still wauling fiw nie?*wid Madam
d'EstrsUe.
" Yea, iMd ane , thy wypose d that iiiaidaa»iwwSa.-i!ef
ASTONtA.
»5'
nuuD ftll niglit to pn/ oror Ihe bodjr of the )
The carriage wont for icadamo. It mnat hare boon at
the door of iho bolol d'Onnoode."
" No, it delayed ao lon^ that I did not wait. H. TbiaRy
escorted mo homo bj waj of the pavilion, and I atopped
then to talk about mj afiain. Toll the aerranta that tkef
can go to bod ; iLe carriase will probablj ratani whan tba
coachman bccomea sober.
"Ah, nwn Dieul madame knows what haj^ianedf then?
Poor Butieo ] I can swear to TnnHanM that he oalj got
drunk out of spile, because modame drove in a cab.
If this explaoatioQ mode Julie smile, Iho acconat she
gave of hor own procoodings appeared singular to hor ehan^
bonnaidi but sho'suspocied uotliing. Julie's life was so
simple and pure, that she was above suspicion. CamiUa
merely thought tliat her atTairs must be very mndi inTolred,
since she liad to pass tUo night in talking with liar lawjror.
She imparted her anxiety to the other serrants, who took
the matter greatly to heart, although resolving, at the aama
time, that tliey would not let thoir wages bo in nrreai*. -
The valet do cliambro, who was the friend of Camillo,
and protector of Uosiicu, went to iho hotel d'Ormonde
in scorch of tho laticr, but did not find bioa. Baatian
had uuUorslood that he was oi'dcrcd back to tho taTem.
lie bod returned tliither, and was sleeping the sloop of .
an angel, ^ no other is reputed delicious enough to be
compared with that of a druulutrd. Tho carriage was
Waiting at the door uadcr the charge of tho footman, his
Bubonlinalo, who had couscnled to hold tho horses, on
condition that be should bo supplied, ovory quarter of an
hour or so, with something to keep him worm. Tho rognes
did not reappear at tho hotel until broad daylight, and
did not recover their senses for twenty-four hours. Un-
der other circumstances, Julie would have discharged
thorn ', but she foresaw that this Duchanal adventure would
cast her own romantic adventure into tho sliado, and
keep it from being brought into discussion ia the »ai»-
chamber and the lodge. This really happened ; and, ai
Madam d*£streUe'e Mrntota were not at oU apitofulf U
»s»
ANTONtA.
— wned M if no iaqoiriM would ever be made ftbout tho
•mplofment of tlua uniunftl night.
On the fidlowing ereniag, the loren eoosiderad it pni-
deol to remaia mlliin doors; bat, on the next night,
■bboogh llief bed made do appoiotmeat, thej met in the
grorea of the garden, and repeated, vith new delight, the
vows thejr had so latelj nude. For some time the; coo-
tinned to moot in this wajr, without trouble or apparent
Nothing was easier than for Usdum d'Estrelle
to slip from her apartmenta ; she could do so opcnljr,
Moce her people bad been in Uio habit of seeing her lake
the fre^ air alone, and at quite a late hour, during the
IT people bad been in Uio habit of seeing her lake
ttairalon
mights.
What ft happT lifo, if it coald v^j hare lasted I These
meetings bod aU the cliarm of mystcr;, and no remorse
tronbled their delight. Free, both of them, — aspiringonl;
10 the most bolj union, and sustained b; a love strong
•sough to be patient, — ihey mot together in the night,
anaid thickets of flowers, in the spleudor of the eummor,
- jttst opening and still retaininff all the graces of the
spring, like tvro Oanc^ who are privilo;^ ta love, and
who, without abusing thoir liberty, withdraw from obsor-
TStion, so as sot to make olliere jealous. It was the
bonejmoon of sentiment proceding that of passion. Fas-
sioo, indeed, the; foil, but resisted it, or rather held it in
reserve by common consent, for the period of conflict and
danger that could not long be dola/ed. They knew that
the; would have to fight a battle in defence of their love,
and Jnlien sometimes said to his friend, —
" Yon will have to loffer for my sake, I know,
and I shall snffor from the consoiousncsa that you are
being annoyed ; bnt wo will belong to each other then,
and oar happiuss will render lu invulnerable to outside
attacks. Lvea if you were not mado sacred to mo by
joor piodesty and my voneralion, it seems to me that
f iBthn— ■ iueir, properly onderstood, wonld loach me not
to exhaost all my bappiMss at odco."
At othsr times Juuaa was more agitated, and less r^
•i^Md Vt dab^t bat, at soeh momisnta, Julie calmed
]ilm bj imploring him to nmembor wbat Im had uid <■
the previoiiB day.
" I have been ao happj siaco we haro lond eadi Otb«
thus 1 " she snid. " Do not change a lituation fall ^d»-
light. Think : on the day when I acknowledge opnlr
that I have chosen yon aa the companion of my liib, pos-
pie will laugh at mo, donounco me, accuM mo of jieliuDg
to a vulgar infatuation ; I know virtuous women, who will
•ay to mo scornfully, — 'Accept him for a lover, •inn
you must have a Io\-cr, but ece him in Becnit,^do sol
marry him 1 ' How shall I be able to robuka thwr im-
portioonco, if my conscience is not dear, — if I hare no .
tcmger the right to say, *No, ha ia not my lovor, haisi^f
betrothed, whom I love, and wlio bos proved hie le^oet
for me as no other man would hare been able to dol'
We shall need nil our atrongtfa, Julien, and truth ia the
most powerful of all weapons witb which to etrus^
against fulso ideas."
Julicu submitted from devotion, and also out of reapoct
to the heroic sentiment (chat sentiment by which ComoiUe
was animated) that had governed his life and restrained,
the first impoluosity of bis youth. Ho could gorom Uis
senses, since ho bad novcr allowed them to rule him.
And then, this romance of pure love, celebrated in tha
balmy night, appealed to his imaginatioa ; for tbo artist,
those poetic mcclinga were intoxicating festivals. There
wero gloomy recesses, and douse masses of foliage in this
garden, such as wo see in tho compositions of Watteau.
And Julio herself, with her rather tall figure, so simply
and gracefully clad in amplo, flowing skirls, harmonised
with the very focliog which miido Watteau a painter
without trickery, an Italian roiilisi, althou;;h liviug in a
eociotyof eonventiounlism, and an ago of anbctatlon. In
a certain retired corner, sharply dullnad upon the dark
background of iho groves, and loaning fotih vaguely in
the night like a ghost, stood a high pedestal oncirdod with
ivy, and aarmountotl by a large while vuse. Faint gleams
of light, vanishing, intangible, glimmered amid tho foliage,
and the shadows of the bmnchos fell upon the marble.
Aa tb« twilight deepened, tha outlines of the vase grado-
154 ANTONIA.
wXij beetme iodiBtincii bat its form nerer ceaaod to be
•logiiiit aod migofttio.
It wa8 to this spot, as soon as his mother had retired,
that Jalieo went to await Julie; and, when she ap-
proached, smiling, tranquil as an embodied dream of hap-
piness, with her silk robes shining in the darkness, and
her beantifttl bare arms, holding some light sa,tin drapery,
be imagined that she was a modem muse presiding over
his destinj, bringing him all the promises of the future,
and all the delights, all the enchantments that belong to
the real life of the present.
It was well for them to eigoy the present without think-
ing too mnch of the morrow, for the future was too uncer-
tam to admit of their forming definite plans. They did
not yet know how long they would be allowed to remain
in happy tranquillity, forgotten and abandoned by the
world, m this garden, which Lore had transformed mto a
terrestrial paradise. Soon, perhaps, inexorable creditors
would eren drive tliem from thp pavilion, and force
them to seek in some suburb a cottage with a garden
under its windows. Whatever their Ate might be, they
were resolved to meet it together ; this was the only thing
that was oertain, — their only irrevocable determina-
tion.
VI.
nPHE. marquis d'Estrelle had been dead two weeks*,
^ and still, in spite of all possible investigations, there
was no trace of a will. People believed that there had
been one, although no one dared assert distinctly that
the marchioness had destroyed it. A number of indica-
tions persuaded Marcel that this was the case, but there
was no use in expressing suspicions that could not be
proved true, and things quietly took their legal course.
The marchioness, that is, according to the terms of her
marriage settlement, inherited sU the property of the
Jeceasedi and she made no mention of any sum set a^^aci
ANTONIA, 155
for paying lbs dobti of Uio Into count. Tbm tamu of
Julio's Mttlcmcnt, howoTcr, tcomed to call for aadi *
provialou. It wna n question Tor tho kw lo dociilo ; And
Harccl ndvisod Julio to begin a suit, If onljr to itop tba
suits ngninst horsolf, tliut wcro alroodj tlirealoned. Julio
was opposod to going to law. Slio tbouglit tluit In Uw>
snits botli parties wcro almost sura to loso, ukI Uarool
confessed ibnt slio was not very far wrong.
" I am vmy wall awara," ilio said, " that tiM inu^
cliioooss does not lllio mo, and it may be that abo dooi
not legally owa mo aoythiag ; but bor standing ia Tory
high, and, woaltliy as she is, it is impossible that aha
will allow a person bearing her namo to bo left antinfy
deitituto. It would not do to spoak to her abont xaaatif
matters so soon as Ibis, and would bo impmdent, as 70a
yourself observed, to appear in too much bosto. When-
ever the right time comes, I will spook to lior, altboogh
Ibo task will bo a very disagreeable one. You aboU toll
mo wbcQ."
Some timo allorwards, Slnrccl DotiflOd her that abe
must lake licr nieoaurca without delay.
" You must go At once," ho snid, " Ihora is no time '
to loM ; your creditors are proposing to begin procosd*
inss Against you to-morrow."
Without being discourngod at the untoward roiult of
her first visit, Julio I lad called a second timo upoD the
niorchioncss a few dnys ancr tho decease of tho ntnrquis.
Oil this occnsion she hod boon received coldly, but civilly.
The will boing destroyed, her prcseuce, pcrlinps, was no
longer feared. The niarchiooosa referred to bor nbaenea
on the ovoning of her futher-ia-law's death, anil mode
Buvo'ral tart obsorvuiioas about tlio worldly nlounrce
which wero atlundiug tho end of Madam d'EMrallo's
mourning. In reply, Julio gave the oxplaDotioD agrood
upon wiib Marcel. Tho marchianoM listonod with an
oir of impolilo curiosity, and added, ^
"It is unfortunato for you, countoas, that ymi will
have to go into mourning again I "
Julie continued to visit tho dowager without making
•ny reference to her owa ombarraMed dreanatwwaa.
IjC . AUTONIA.
'When dal«r wu no longsr poiuble, sh« called ; and,
with her umuI ■weetoeu of manner, explained ber posi-
tioD I brief i^ geotle •■ her words were, howDver, ahe
eoald not lunago to make them reiy humble.
**I really bog your pardon," answend the marchion-
«•, "but Botbariog the adrantage of being intimate
with attonwTi, I know ttothing aboat snch mattora. If
jo« will aend your lawyer to mine, ba iball examiae into
ray righta as well as my obligntiona, and he will be sotis-
. Am that yon were not one of the persons left under, my
care."
" This is not the answer, madam', that I expected from
a person of your uprightness of eharactor. Very possi-
bly you do not owe me anything. Since yon oswrt that
fa is BO, I am bound to believe you. Dut I bad supposed
that family coasidoralioas — "
** I have not tbo honor of belonging to your family,"
iaterruptod tbo marchioness, dryly.
** Yon moan to imply," noawcrcd Julie, indignant at
this proTocotion, " that the Uarquis d'Eatrclle married
beneath him, in selecting from a family ono-hnlf of whose
9 nobility was of thosword,andDna-half of Iberobo, That
- intimation does not ofibnd mo. I am oot aabamcd of my
aoceators, who were magiatratea, nor do I conaidor my-
aelf inferior to anybody. Dut I did not como huro to
discuaa my right to tbo honor of bearing the anme name
with yooraolT. Aa a matter of fact, I am tho Countosa
d'EsiroUe. Is it right that I should loso ibo aiipport
promised to me, and auppoaod to bo asaored to me? Al-
tboagh the marquis may have forgotton mo upon his
death-bed, he must hare informed you of hia intontiooa ;
and doea it not follow that you ought to pay his son's
debts, in bis place, or at least a part of them?"
"No, madiun," answered the dowager, "no such ob-
ligation follows from any intention that he ever exprossod
to mo. It was the opinion of the marquia that you ought
at one* to rarrsnder your right of dower, ainco it ia not
worth enough to pay your huabond'a dobia ; and that in
that easa, naasBrea •boold ba taken to pay what remained
•rthem."
ANTONIA. 157
*' This has oflca been 8Ug;]fcsted to mc, madam ; and I
bave asked whether, in coDsidcration of this sacrifice, it
woB proposed to settle any income upon me."
" Arc you entirely without means? Ilave you inher-
ited nothing at all from your own family?*'
*^ Twolvo hundred francs a year, madaiHt and no morei
as you yourself know,"
** Oh, well, you can live upon that, my dear I It will
enable you to drive in a fiacrci to hire a box at the
theatre, to visit attorneys' wives, and to ran abcmt the
streets at midnight, leaning upon the arms of sigD-
{aintcrs. Your tastes are of thb description, from what .
bear. Gratify them, by all moans. Surrender yoor
dowcr-right, or soli at any sacrifice all the property
which you have derived from the d'Estrelle family ; I
don*t care which. My only wish in the matter is, tiiat
you should bo married to somebody, so as to change your
name, and prevent you from being confounded with me
by people who don't know us.**
^^ You shall have that satisfaction, madam,** said JnliSi
rising, ** for I should dislike such a disagreeable confo*
sion as that, as much as yourself.'*
She bowed, and withdrew.
Marcel was waiting at her house, and saw her come
in, pale, and with her eyes flashing with indignation.
I' All is lost," ho 'exclaimed, ''I sco that I Tell me
quickly, nmdam, what has happened. Yon frighten
mo I"
*^ My dear Thierry, I am ruined without remedy,** re-
plied Julio, ^^ but it is not that which is choking mo. I
have been insulted, — trodden under foot. At the very first
word, although I had said nothing rash, had offered her
no provocation, she insulted mo to my very face. I have
been followed by spies, too, and the most innocent circum-
stances have boon reported, and most venomously misrep-
resented. Thierry," she continued, sinking upon a chair,
'^ you are a virtuous man ; I swear to you that I am a
strictly virtuous woman."
*^ No one but a scoundrel could think of denying it,** cried
Marcel. ^* But come, take courage, — explain 1 '*
158 ANTONiA.
TIm ooosteu gaTe.hiin ft full aecoant of her interriew
with tbs EUTchioness, but did not refer to her anderstaod-
ing with Jalien ; for tbej hwl neolTod, for the preunt,
not to reveal their eccrot, oToa to Madam Thieny herself.
When Harcel kneir all, ho was verj much discoui^
a^ed, and wenMd to think the ailnation altoj^ether de»-
perale.
"Yon bftTo BO allomaiire, as far as I con see," he
•aid, "between sadden and at»olate destitntion, — a tet^
ribla trial for n person of jour habits, — and a lawsoit,
of which Iho result is extremclj uncertain. I do not
know how to advise jon. Mj worst apprehensiona are
naliiod. The plan is to rob jon, and to set the world
•gainst jon, too, bj blackening jour reputation. The
manhionMa has bean sharpeniag her weapons for some
time; sho provided herself with them on seeing that the
marqais was failiuff, and oTon at the veij moment of his
death mode use of them. She has been plotting jour
destroctioQ in cold blood, has sot spies upon jon, uid fol*
lowod jou about — "
" Slaj, U. Tbierrj ; has not U. Antoine had a hand
in all this?"
" Jalien believos he has. For mj part, I am still in
doubt. I will ascertain, however ; and, if necessorj, will
ononise a spj sjstem in opposition to his ; but the first
thug is not to know who has been betrajing jon, bat to
resolve npon jonr own line of condnct.''
" First of all, do lawsuit I "
"Verj well, but we will not saj so. We will make
ereat demonstrations of fighting. I will attend to that.
Tbej want joa to surrender jour dowerrights for noth-
ing. For mj port, I moan that thej shall paj for it, and
I shall hold out for a right good price, too.
" In the meanwhile, observed Julie, "I have quan
nllcd with mj bosbasd's fanufy ; for, as joa can verj
well imagine, X shall never eater tb« house of tb« ma-
cUooesa again."
"I cannot recommend von to panne a difi^rent course,
Ar •!>• haa ovideatlj reaolved to push joo to axtremitiea.
ANTONIA. 159
War baa been decUred ; and, altbon^ wa Ud Dot pio*
Tokd hoatilitiea, wo most not diaw back."
Harcel, howcTer, had no time to prepare for baUle,
Two or three lawyers, of rather bad cbancter, who -wvn
talking aboat a forced sale at anctioa, and who dedbed
to hear of anjr further delays, were purauiag him rigot^
oualj. lie made up hia mind that it would be neoenarjr
to eomplj, therefore, with the dcsianda of the mai^
diioDeM, uid he went to Julie to tell her so.
" Th<7 intend to lob yon," ho said, ** and I am afraid
that, in ease of resistance, tliey will force yon to giTa np
even Ute amall capital that you inherit from your own
family. It ia reiy certain that the count's debts, with tha
amara of interest, will amouut to more than what ia left
of bis fortune. The Harchioneas d'Eatrelle means to
oome and live in the hotel d'EstreUe, or, at all erents, to
get it ioto her hands."
"And its depeodenciea as wellP^aakod Julie; "the
pavilion also ? "
" The pavilion also. My auut will bo entitled to aa
indemnity for qnitling tlie promises, but that ia a qnostioa
to be discussed separately, and docs not coocom yon."
Julie made no reply, and sank into a fit of deep melan-
choly. The idea of being ruined, — of being reduced
to an income of twelve hundred francs a year, —had
not really aHumed distinct form in her mind. But to
leave at once and forever this elegant mansion, — thia
delicious garden, which had within the last few wooka be-
come so dear to her,— to lose the neighborhood of tho
pavilion, — to forego her inlcn-iows with Julien, so full
of charm and security, — this was indeed a, catastrophe I
A whole world of delights wns crumbling beneath h«r*
feet. A phase of existonco, filled with tho purest happt- -
Dcss, waa ended with brutal violence, and without allowing
her the least time for prcparatioa.
Marcel at onco wont to see tlio notary of tho nuii^
chioness, and found that he took a very high tone, not-
withstanding the conceasioDs that he waa preparod to.
make. Thia waa not tho bult of the notary, who waa
reaJljr'an ozcollont man, but he waa forced to follow hu
i66 ANTOHtA.
diont's dinctioDS u to tbo eondact of hor bonaeM. Ho
had, raonoTcr, beeo prejudiced Agaiut Julio, Kod to>
gudod bor u « foolish jouog woman, rcadjr to uicrifico
aTorjrthiog to th« gntiiicatioQ of b«r ODrcgulAted pu*
•ioiw, "niu WM more than Marcel conld bear % ho vas
hi^j iodignaat, and awore upon hu hooor that there wai
BO aacrat cooiMctioD between (be eountaia and hU consia,
— Ibattbij were acarcely acquainted, — and that Julia
ma Ibe purest of women, and the moat entitled to respect
Mtd to ^!ej. Uanel was Iroown to be an excaedinglj
booonble man, and the notary was rather staggered bjr
tba warmth of hia coDTictioD, Bat, coming back to Iha
qnestioo of the legal rights of the mardiioness, he d»<
nooatnUad that she was mistress of the situation, and
that Jnlie might even consider herself fortonate to be al-
lowed to do as she required.
He promised, however, to do all in his power to inspire
his client with more liberal views respecting the widow
of her Btcp«on. The next daj he wrote to Marcel, to sajr
that the marchioness desired to see the hotel d'Estrelle,
wbidi she bad not entered for a long time. She wished
to examine the condition of the premises with licr own
^•s, and 10 have an appraisement made in hor presence,
with his assistance and that of Ibe lawjrer of the countess.
It was eas7 to see, from the tuni of Uiis letter, that the
iwt«7 had displeased his client, bjr pleading Julie's cause,
M ho bad promised, from a moral point of view, and that
ha himKlf was far from being latitfiod with Uie suspicion
•od barsbaeaa of the dowagor.
Ho made his appearance, along with her, tbo some dajr.
Julie, nnwilliag to see her cruel enemj again, locked her>
■elf inio her boudoir, leaving all the other doors opon.
Tbo Marchioness d'Estrelle was of a harsh dispositioo,
arao for aNonoan ; in Uadam d'Aucourt's cirele tbej used
to can ber "Madame do FSmbache," ••Uadama d'Or-
Ucbe," and so on. Sbawaa accused of borrowing mon^
bjr the Tear, and lending it again fbr short lanns, at bard
rates. Ferb^s there was some exaggeration about this,
bat if aha was proposing to advance a large sum in order
to Mtlk with tba ereditora of the Cmmt d'Eati^^uA.
ANTONiA. l6i
obtain posMSsioa herself of Julie'* property, U ia certain
UiHt'fllio meant to got eomo of it bock agsia in the dotnOa
of the busiDCM. Tlii« was proved dcarlj onongfa) hj her
promptnees in causing an appmiBemoDt.
She wont all over the liouae, inspecting ererythisg
witli keen and unerring eyes. SLo mode olyections, nod
aotcd deductions for every little nib on the wall, depre-
ciated u much OS she could the value both of tho real
and personal property ; and both in speech and aetioQ
•hewed a disgUBtiog avarice, and aversion for her raUp
live, that astounded Marcel, and more than once nuula
tlko notary blush. When they come to the boudoir ia
which Julio had taken refuge, she ordered tho door to bs
opened. She was obeyed inaiantly. Julio had heard
her coming, and not choosing to be compelled to rooeivo
an odious visit in spile of herself, — such an insult was
too much to be endured, — slio hnil gone out by way of tba
garden, leaving orders with Camille to open tlie door wbea
required. Camille was very proud, — there hod beoa
aldermen among her ancestors I She could not rasiat
the Icmptalioa of giving the dowager a lesson ; going to
a tablo where elie bad hastily laid out a few articles oa
purpose, she said, in n tone of sarcastic humility, —
" I'crhnpa madam would Uko to count tho linon ? Hera
ore Bomc of my mistress's neck-handkerchiefs and ril^
bons."
The dowager usually would have cared little for the
talk of a servant, but her haired of Julie was stung and
exasperated by the blow. She looked hastily throu^ the
window, and saw Madam d'Estrellc crossing the gardea
towards the pavilion.
Julio, no doubt, made a great mistake in going to the
pavilion, but she was angry also. It seemed to her that
she was driven out of her house, her own room, hor moat
private sanctuary, by this impudent persecution. She
fled for a refuge; and, too irritated for conaidoratioa,
instinctively, and without atopping to refleet, raa to
Madam Thierry, — to Juhon.
" They will not come and hunt me down over then,**
■be (aid to herself; " tbey will not dare. I am the owner
i6a
ANTONIA.
w
of thai property yet; no one except mjrself has the
right to enter premises occupied under a lease from me.
BesideSf it is time to avoir n^ friendship for Madam
Thiernr ; from this time forward, I shall take the lib-
er^ of visiting her as I do other ladles who have brothers
and SODS."
Just as she was resolutely entering the pavilion, the
UMPchioness, with a resolution not less sudden, issued
finom the boudoir and rushed into the garden.
** Where are you going, madam ?^ said Marcel, who
had not noticed Juliet flight, but who mistrusted the glit^
taring eyes and abrupt manoouvres of the active and
vigorous old woman.
The marchioness, active as a plucked magpie, flew
oiiward, without condescending to reply. Unable to stop
her, Marcel and the notary followed.
She knew the way perfectly well, although she had not
been upon the premises for a long time, having, since her
second marriage, quarrelled witl^tho count, her step-son.
She reached the pavilion a few minutes after Julie, found
the outer door open, and sprang into the studio as if she
had been shot into it.
Julien was there alone ; he did not even know that
Madam d'Estrelle had come in and gone up stairs to his
mother's room. Since his secret interviews with Julie
he no longer watched for her approach. Their under-
standing with each other was so good, that they could
afibrd to dispense with accidental meetings. Ue was. at
work, and singing. Julie, as she entered the little ves-
tibule, had felt a sudden vague presentiment that she
would be pursued, and had gone up stairs, thinking that
the widow's chamber would afford her an invioh&ble re-
treat. Julien had never seen the old dowager; and,
startled by her sudden apparition, he rose up, thinking that
aho had entered from the street, and that he was going,
perhaps, to receive some commission. This flushed and
breatidess personage, with her harsh and wrathful coun^
tenanesi inspired him, however, with a feeling of diiiike .
latber than of expectation*
AXTONIA. i6^
" That woman wonU hngglfi like r Mcoad-Itaiid itttSttj'
he said to liimaelf ; " perhaps she reallj ii one."
The old lady's mean drew gare no indicatioa of Imt
rank and fortnno.
"Are you alone here?" she inqaind, witbool aoj M>t
.of Btilulatioo.
Marcel and Ihe notaiy .now made their appearaoesi
and Julien, astonished, looked inquiringl/ at luureel, who
made lioste to saj, —
" This lady thinks of buying the pavilion, «od ibo — "
" It is nnaecessary to present me to this peraon," i»-
(umod the marchioness, sharply, " and I am quits abla to
make my own explanations."
■ *' Very well, modnm," said Jnlioa, uniling, " this pea<-
SOD is very much at your sorrice."
" I asked you a question," continned the mordiionas,
not at all disconcerted ; " let mo make it plainer. Which
way did the Countess d'Eslrcllo go?"
Jnlicn started back. Marcel, wishing to avoid a ridio-
ulons scene, caught his eye, and pointed to his forehead,
AS much OS to say, " The lady is out of her mind I "
" Ah, I undorslond 1 " said Julien ; and continued io -
the tone that people nse to children or idiots, **'th«
CountcDs d'Esirello, madam, — I do not know bor."
" That is a very foolish reply, Mr. Pointer, and qnita
useless besides. I want to speak to that lady, and I
know that she stays hero, ~~- from time to time."
" Marcel," said Julien to his cousin, " waa it yon who .
brought this woman here ? "
Marcel, in an agony, shook his head.
" Was it you, then, monsieur ? " said Julien to Iho ikh
tary.
" No, monsieur," said the notary, promptly ; *^ I fot>
lowed her, and I don't know at all for what noioa aho
came here."
" Then you would have done mnch better not to hava
followed me," replied the marchioness, dryly and quietly ;
" I had a reason for coming into this pioiure^op, «ad
yon had none. Do ino the AiTor to allow me to tranaut
my bnuneu ia a^ own nay"
l6f, ANTOiriA.
"Zwashmrhuda otli," wld the xtoXaxjx and.bowiog
to Jnlien wilh much polileneu, ho vvoX out, earsing tb*
crow griipad, tkotutio humor of hu clieot.
" J^ to 70a, Kr, Attoraa/ — " bogui the nutrehiooeu
to Uaml—
" At to nw, madamj" intemiptod Htrcel, " th» U mj
own txaSij, and I •httU noeiTO no ordan oxeopt from tho
lodj of tho hooao, who ia nj onnL"
** I know nil that. I know that joo ore reUtivM. I
kaow what good rrioadt jon an among jonnolrett and
what good neighbors 700 an to the widow of the Coaot
d'Eetralla. fiuj if /on cboooe, or put oae ont if 70U
dan!"
" Let ni hare dooe, madam, with thia diBagroeable dia>
conioi)," iaid Jnlien, toeing patience ; <'I am not in tho
babil of being diarespectful to women, howevor aaion- .
iihing tboir coadnct ma; appear. But I am an artiit, .—
a mechanic, if 70Q will. Thiiiamf hooae, — mj- picture.
ahop, «• jon veiy properly obaertiM]. I am at work, and
caonot anbrd to Iom m; time. Yoo an epeaking of
tbinge that I know nntbiog abont, and of a lad; that I
bare not tho honor of receiTiog. If yon have no better
naaoo for interroptiog me, allow me to leave 70a."
Taking lua canvas and his palette, Jnlien left the
■todio, aAer casting an ezprcsaivB glance at Marcel, as
Bach as to sajr, '* Now get oat of it as well as 70a
oaa.**
"Vtrj well," said the marchioness, bj no means
a b ashed at this fbrmal dismissal, "I remember what
tbo old song WTt 1 'Let'ssearch the house a little,* I
will not let jou off at alL I mean to see the whole of
the pavilion, inside and out, np stairs and down, Just as
I have seen the botaL"
"This way, then," said Marcel, "bIqco you losist ■
npoo it. But allow ma to speak to my aunt, whoao room
is upstairs."
" No, by BO means," said the dowager, morlog to-
wards the door. " 111 speak to her mywlf ; and if thoy
timiDeoBt, — wall, I shall be vsrygUd of it, Ur. Al-
AJfTONlA. I«5
•'Yoa *n eerUialjr out of jonr seuu," gxdaiiDBd
Marcol, iaTolaalKrilj. '* Ii il pouiblo ibftt job rosily
anppoM Madam d'Estrollo ia bidden up then? CoaM
and see ! I will ahow you tho way. When yoa an pai^
UciW aatiaflcd — "
^rcel was a Uundrod Ica^ea KWay from imaglaiog
that Julio was in hia aunt'a room. AU at obob, aa be
Buddonly opeood the door of the atndio, he mw. Madam
d'EstrcUe and M"'*""' Thieny staading before lum. Ha
slopped short, with as exprossioD of the moat pitiabto
diaappoiatmo uL
Julie had heard Iho uproorioua entraoce of tlie nuu^ .
chiooeu into the studio, and Jullca had como up stain
to toll his mother that a craiy woman was bolow making
a disturbaoco. IIo was surprieod to soo Julio, and, when
ho learned tliat llie crazy woman was the dowager her^
self, WAS distressed enough at lier praacnco. Julio had
recognized her voice ; nud as she knew perfectly well that
the old lady would hunt her to tho very garret, sho n
up her mind at onco what to do. Taking f -
Thierry's arm, she said, ^
" Come, it dees net suit me at oil to bo found ia thU
room, liko a criminal hidioj; himself. I prefer to foco
the storm ; and, since it is my duty to do so, I shall not
fldter."
Julien, dcspcrato, and ready to give free vont to hia
anger, remained standing at tho head of the staircase,
listening, and asking himself whether Marcol alone would
bo able to protect the lwo,women, whom, of all the world,
bo Invcd and respected the most, from boiag inauUed by
this old fury.
Uut, most unexpectedly, as soon as sho found beraolf
in tho presence of the two ladies, tho face of tho dotr*
agor cleared up, and her anger seemed to disappear. AU
that she had wanted was to see wiih her own oyoa that
site had not been tnlsinformcd about Julio's friendship
for Madam Thierry, and consequently her intimacy witU
Julien., It was rather a far>fctchod couolusioa, indeodf
to suppose that she was tho miatross of tho son boeanaa
abe imaw the mother ; but aa Julien had told tha mnr-
l66 ANTONIA.
, diiooeM IbM be did not know J(ill«, >h« hod soma abow
of iCMOa for beUering what she deeirod to beliare.
Qoieted b^ ber tuppMed. ducoveir, u & yultara ia
quieted when it - soisea its prof , sho bunt into *d ill-
Batored Ungh, gUneed tiinmpbuitlj At Mucel, and pm-
wed to depart without asluting an/ one, or waiting to
be^koken to.
" Cmm, t&. LawTor," ahe aaid, "lam sMiafied; I
b»T« aoen all that I wanted to.' Lot na attend now to
Julio VM about to replj to thia insolent and earcastio
■peach. She felt ao oxaaporotod that ahe waa rood/ to
rereal hor aocrct bofora thom oil. Calumniated, treated
with coDtempt, as if guiltjr of u crime, sho felt that she
eonid recoror ber dignil/ onljr bjr arowing her sincora '
■Bd legitimate affection. This was verj courageous in a
woman like her, who hod Deror known what it was to .
oratend with otlien. She woald not probablj hare been
capable of fonniog such an extreme resolution with cool
deliberation, at least without Julian's consent, but Indig-
nation gave her courage.
She was uot allowed, however, to carry out her pur-
pose. Marcel and Madam Tbienr each of them seiaed
one of her hands, and cried, as if in unison, —
** Do not repljr ; it is beneath jou to notice ber."
While they held her in thia way, the dowager, without
coodescendiDg to look at her, led the house, and relumed
to the hotel, followed br the honest law/er, who had
been waiting for her ootside, and who, aa he left, bowed
to Julia in a peculiarly doforenlial manner.
" You aee, said Marcel, " even her own lawjrer pro*
t«su againat aoeh insulting conduct \ and now that the
woman has token off her mask, nobody will bo upon ber
aide as againat jou. But, for God'a aake, madam, bow
eeold fon bavo allowed yonrtelf to be aurpriaed in thia
boose, where joa oerer oomo? Z must sa/ that 70U are
v«i7 impradaaL"
" Hjr dear Thieny," said Julie, " I have something to
tall jroo. Go andVind np yoor buuneos with tha ma>
I, jriald aTM/thinf M ittriw tit* nMiM| ^utfiuq^
ANTONIA.
•ra concerned, laTo only aiT'own litllo foitoM, and eon*
bade to tho [wvilioa. I will wait for joa."
"But whj in the pavilion?" lukad Uarcel.
** I will toll jou wboD 70U rotum," aaid Julio.
"In fact, madam," said Julion, as soon as Uarcel had
gone, " what anlncky accident can bare iadnced 70a to
honor m; mother with a visit on the verr dajr wbut joor
mortal onomy was lying in wait for 70a ? And whj ' do
70a remain here now, as if on purpoas to oonflrm bar
strange suspicions? " ■
Id spite of Julien's respectful and modest tona* his
words implied a sort of reprimand that astonished Mada m .
Thiorrjr.
"Julicn," replied Mndam d'EatroUe, with spirit, "tha
moment for our confession has come. It has como soooar
than wo oxpocled, but it is inevitable, aod I will not
shrink from Iho duly it imposes."
" My excellent friend," she cried, Ihrowio^ beraolf into
Modnm Thierry's nrms, " Icam the truth. I love Julian 1
I have cngnj^d myself lo liiia in the most sacred mai^
nor. Embrace ^our daughter, and bless her."
"Ah, iTion Ditiit" cried Madam Thierrj, bewildered,
and pressing Jul ien to bor heart; "are you married ?"
" Without your consent ? Certainly not," cried Julien,
embracing bis mother in his turn. " Dot we have only
bees waiting to beg your consent, until we could do so
without fear of distressing and olarmiug you. Julie haa
spoken sooner than I should have wished, but, since aha
has spoken, what can I odd? I have deceived you, mj
dear motlier : I love her to distraction, and 1 am tho
happiest of men, for she loves me too."
Madam TUien^ was so nfTccted by this unexpected
intelligoDco, that it was a long lime before she could
speak. Even while overwhelming both her children with -
the tenderest caresses, she trembled ; her hands were
cold, her tyet were dim with tears ; she felt a singular
mingling of apprehension and joy, Tho former sonti*
ment was perhaps predominant, for her first question was
to ask Julien why, in spito of his happiness, ha bad
•eemed inclined to reprove Julie tot being too bMty<
i68 ANTONIA.
<^Thit was iIm reaaon/* excUuined Jolte; **we
•greed yeeterdaj eremogv^for we meet and talk to-
gl^er eyerjr eyeningy dear mothor,— that we would
wait until my bueioeas afiairs ahould be definitelj settled,
bcfiNre reyeidiDg our aecretto our friendst or even to
jou. I saw plaiiil/ that I should soon be ruined, and
JnliflQ was not at all alarmed at the prospect. He
wished, bowerer, for mj sake, that ever^ provocation
ahould come from the marchioness ; and it is certain that
mj resolution to marrj him, when it is known, will
aeeore her numerous partixans, at least among the re-
Imona hypocrites and social prudes of her own circle.
& was right, I know, but I cannot endure to be called
a woman of gallantry, and they will be sure to give me
that reputation if I fear to acknowledge the whole truth/'
** There is no doubt of it,** said Julian ; ** it is neces-
•ary to acknowledge everything now, but your conduct,
dear Julie, has precipitated this necessity. I adore you
all the more for vour rashness, but it was my duty not to
land myself to it. Love and fata have overcome my
prudence, and made my self-sacrifice unavailing. It is no
longer time to hesitate I Bless your children, my dear
moUier 1 Julie entreats you, «-she wishes it ; and you, I
know, will be as happy in giving us your blessing as we
in receiving it.**
While the inmates of the pavilion were thus indulging
afiection, the marchioness had established herself
in the drawing-room of the hotel, and was presiding at a
rigidly conducted appraisement of both houses. Marcel
fbught bravely for his dient, and the notary made hon-
orable but useless efforts to reooncile the conflicting
daims of the opposing parties. The conclusion finally
arrived at was very mortifying to Marcel : it proved im-
possible to save even Julie's fumiture from the claws of
her enemy. The marchioness considered that she was
dobg a great deal in allowing her to retain her diamonds
andlacea. It was necessary to submit to these hard
cooditioiia, fi»r the sale of the property could no longer
.ba delayed, and no eompetitor had appeuad in the field.
Mareel had writtao to onda Antoina, in hopea that ha
ANTOJflA. 1^
, would tsk« & ttacj to tbo garden, and would Im^ it st k
fair rate, in spito of hu duplsMiira ; but oado Antoine
had mado no KQSwer.
Thcro wu imlf aa honr of final diMnauoD otct Un
draft of tbo ogrccmBOt ; a few eraanrct wero mada, aad
■omo blanks filled. Tbo dowager aigiwd, and Mated,
although Toiy diMonlonUdly, and with manj protoau,
prepared to submit the paper to Jnlia for her aoc^t*
ance.
"VThj ini't she bere?" cried the dowagvr, ahniptljr.
'* Sbs ought to bo willing (o loavo her dear paviUoD fbra
few minutes, to attend to such an important matter."
" You will acknowledge, madam," obeerrod Hand,
" that jou have not treated hfndam d'Estrello so kindlT
as to make her particularly desirous to meet 70a again.*
" Bah ! boh I She is mightjr touchy ! Come, lawyer
Thierry, go and fetch her, — I am in haste to go ; and if^
on reading the agreement, she should bo disposed to raise
objections, I, for my part, am not at oil disposed to anb-
mit to delay. Lot hor oomo and talk it over here, — wa
shall get through all the sooner. ^Vhat is she afraid off
I have no further obscrrations to make on her coodncL
Indeed, as things now stand, I cars very little about it,
and I have not reproached lior eilhor. Did I say a aiogio
word to her jugt now? If I havo ofieudcd her fbnneriy,
it was becauso she chose to appeal to sentiments which I
am not under any obligation to coiortain. Let her avoid
recriminations, and I will promise not to humiUolo bar.*
"If you will send hor a couciliatory massage," said
Marcel, " expressed In polite and friendly language, I
win do my best to porausdo her to come."
"Besides," added tho notary, "the marchioDeas has
no doubt soma arrangements to suggest beyond tbo roero
terms of the agrcomont. She will, of conrae, allow
Uodom d'Estrelle time to find a lodging, befbra vacating
the hotel."
"Certaialy, certainly I will," said the marchioaasi;
" I intend to do so. Come, Master Thierry, go I "
Maroel hurried to the paTiiioo, and persuaded Julie to
ratora with him. He unaginad that the marohiBaaM,
170
ASTONIA.
is her aatJifaction ot baring iiud« ■ good bargun,
iriibad U> offer mdu litde reparation for her iU-nUurod
conduct ; and he eppmlod to Julio'i generosity, ead par>
hnpe to her prodeDce, not to reject the formal reconciii^
tioo which is cnUoauirjr in such casos.
Th^ hod no lime to make any explanation to liarcel
■t the parilioa. Julie, however, uid to Madam Thieny,
■ iaalowTfrice, —
**Toa know what my meani are now; mr incone
ia vMTtautU, but, bjr selling mj jewels, we snoU hare
asoon to purdiaae the house at Sdrree. I am a Boitable
wauS, thvefore, for Jnlien, and I am thankful that the
a&ir has terminated in this waj."
The marchionese ooDcoakd her impatience at being
kepi waiting for a few minutes, and beggod Julie to reod
the agreement, and sign it, with something like polite .
BCM. Julie took np the pen, bat, hearing nothing of
the friendly demonstrations that Marcel had led hor to
anticipate, she hesiuted a little, and looked at the notary
as if asking his odTice. The deference that this ■kow<^
did not escape the quick perception of llie lawyer, who
iUt a deddod sympathy for her.
"This is the proper time," he said to his barah old
diant, " to state (o Madam d'Estrelle your kind intentions
abont taking poasesiion under the agreement."
"Ah, oh yes, undoubtedly," said the marchioneas;
" I wish to take possession of the hotel at once j lo-mor>
row, at iarthesL I will allow madatn, however, the use
tX tiie pavilion for three or four months."
**T1m pavilion?" said Marcel, in sorprise. "The
pKvilion is leased. The marchioness is surely aware
'that it is occupied under a nine yean* lease."
" Thf lease is void, VL. Thierry, for I did not sign it ;
and, by the terms of my marriage settlement, the Mar-
qnis d Estrelle eoold not disposa of his proporty in any
way wUbont my sinotore."
"Then Madam Thieny will have to novo, and wilboat
obtaining an indemnity."
*'I aia oony ftr her, bat yoa knowaqr marriaga coo- -
ANTONIA. tfi
tract bjr heart. Look at the Icom, nod yoa will sm that
it is Toid."
Sho look tbo lease out of her pocket, and showed it
to him. Ho cxamiaed it, and was silent.
" What is the matter 7 " said the marcliioDCSS, laaghinj
at Slarcel's coostcroalioD. *'Tho couot«ss will still be
in a conditioD to mako up to Undam Thierry for this
little annoyoDCO. Oao docs not rcckoQ closely with one'*
iricDils."
" You are quite, right modamc," answered Jalie, with
dignity ; " and I ihaok you for affording mo an oppor-
tunity of proving my dcvolioQ to Madam Thierry. I
decline your very kind ofTor. Madam Thierry and I
will leave your prcmiacs together, within an hour."
" Togclhcr? " said the marchioness. '■'■ It is otmeo-
essary to be so open about it as that, madam 1 "
Jdlic was upon the point of replying, whco a vigorou
ring at the door of the aale-chamber startled the mar-
ch iuocfs.
" Well, well, let us hayo no useless quarrelling," iha
said, suddenly changing her tone ; " there are somo vtu-
tors, — sign, ray dear, and be done with it."
Just ot this moment, the vnlot do chomhre entered to
announce somebody, and sho cried out, —
"Say that tve caa eoo do one just now. Lei Ihoin
wait."
" Pardon mo, madam," intemipted Julie, offendod at
this Bssumptioa of dignity in her prcseoGo, " it la my
house yet."
Marcel, who had noticed the sudden impatleDCo of tha
marchioocBB, fell impelled by a vague, but irresistiblo im>
pulse, to gaiD time. He took the pen out of Julie's hand*,
rhe marchioness turned pale. Marcel saw iL
"Shall I announce?" inquired the servant of Julio.
"Yesl" oxcloimcd Horccl, vehemently, for ho had
espied the Ttsitor's face tlirough the half-open door.
" Yes," repeated Julio, agitiUad becatuo sho aaw Uai-
eel's oxdtemant.
'* M. Aatoine Thimy 1 " aaid th* aarraat, in a load
tf% ANTOSIA.
Jalla, In anipriM, aroM. The msrchioDeu. who ww
■Undiag, Mt down with ui aogiy ([estiira. The Uorti*
cnkwiil oma io, ombMT»M«d and awkward as uaual,
bet eainriitg u high u ercr that irucible face of hia,
wUeh alwHyt, with lu noolnta, hooghtj cxpnuioo, god-
tnilod ao ■tmogcij with his tiioid manner. Without
•xoeily solotiDg any ono, and odvaneiDg in a us-ug
covrMi but Toiy qoickljr, he west op to the table whoro
loj the contract, with the inkstand boudo it. Then ho
- tvned to JuUe i
** Han /on just been coDclodiDg some transoctioo 7 "
he said, in an ongrf tone, and jet with a certain ezpres*
iiM of ooziotj and solicitude.
" Nothing at all is coocladed," answered Marcel, " iioce
70a have got here. Poseiblj jon may bare some offer
le make, nnde."
** No one ceo moke any offer," cried the msrchionost,
In n great slate of excitement ; '* the bargain is closed.
I appoal to the good faith— "
"Good loith has nothing to do with it, madam," said
lUreel ; " we were just about Bubmittiog (0 extremely
bard conditions. No one can blame a criminal coodemDMl
to death, 00 matter how reeifi^oed ha might bo, for oo-
eepiing % pardon that reached him unoxpectodly. Come,
nnde; yon have a Toocy for the hotsL d'Estrelle. I
ema say ntore than that : yoo need it ; you can remova
the bonndoiy wall, and m^a a splendid addition to your
garden. The hotel de Melcy b cold, old, gloomy, aod
badly sitnated. Iliis hoosa is cboerfnl ond agreoable ;
eo^ in sammar, wonn is winter. Yon want iL Yon
BoontobnyiL Don't yon?"
"This is infamotis," criod the marchioness. "The
ooosent of the eouateu is equivalent to a signatare. No
«aa ever withdraw fVom a promise so late as this I "
" Fordon ma, madam, retorted Uorcel, " yon had
loir warning, I waited np to the reiy lost raomont ; I
t«rid yon three times orer, while we were discnsaing, that
if tba door stwald open that moment, and any other pui>
dMoar whotarar should appear, I would at once tear np
lUs ngraiMsnl, which I eonsidar on altogether deplonbU
ANTONIA. 173
onaformjrclioDl. lonlrmbmiUed,— I^noteooMatt
I appeal to 107 collsagne hen to witam thai it wmt n.
Uaclo, ^u oro joarsolf « rocogausd snlhori^ in bui>
Dcu irEDsactiou. 807, h»T« I tha right to pat « atop to
further procMdiDga nntU 70a shaU han baa aa oppor>
tiinit7 lo speak?"
" Cert&iDl7," anawarod M. Antoina ; " and tha mora
•0, aiacs 1117 rigbti in tha mattar tak« praeedence orcr
thoH or the mBTcbionau. Let'a aoa what Ibia iubv
mont is 1 "
He rend it, and obMrred,—
" This is not mj appraiMment at all, manliioiMH ;
you plack the bird iooGlosa,andobU(«ino tomnind joa
of oarliltlo audorstanding."
**Go on, sir; moko jam bid I" cried tha dowagw;
" I can't coDtcnd with a man that poasosoa millioni.
I withdraw alto^ther, and Icaro the field to 7on<"
" Wait, wait 1 " ropUcd Antoioe ; " 700 and I can come
to an undenlaoding in balf a word, madam ! I cao ar>
range this affair in a wa7 lo BatiBf7 all parties. But it
depends upon jon. "
" Never I " cried the marchioness, indignantly ; ** 70a
aro a, fool, and I am ashamed to have accepted jronr asr*
yiccs 1 "
She went straight out of the room, forgetting all about
her lawyer. Antoiuo, with his face tnmed towards tba
door through which sh« hod departed, remained ailentt
darkly frowning, and plunged ia soma mTstoriona madi'
tation.
" They hare an nndcrstandlng against me," whiapared
Julie to Marcel ; " what am the7 going to do now ? "
" Ilaro patience," answered Unreel ; " I think I can
They had no time for further obsonrations. U. An*
toine started from his rovcrlo, and turned to tha lawyer.
'• Well," he said, " how do we stand? What baa boen
decided."
" So far as I am concerned, monsieur," replied the
notaiy, gathering up his papers, and looking for his qm>
taclas, •* tbe transactions between yonrseliand tha ma^
174 antonia:
duonaisareaianeDd. M7 dient seems to have giyen op
the object she was in pursuit oFi and I must take Qeir
orders from her before moving further in the matter.''
^Tben it is entirelj between you and me?" said M.
Antoine to Julie, while the notarj was taking his de-
parture*
^ No, monsieur,'' she said, referring him to Marcel ;
^I beg permission to leave you together."
** But why?" asked Antoine, in a strange sort of heart-
broken tone, and making a gesture as if to detain her,
although without venturing even to touch her sleeve.
** Whv are 70U angry with me, Madam d'EIstrelle? All
that I have done has been in your interest. Why will
jou not let me tell vou so?"
** Very true," said Marcel ; " why should she refuse ?
Come, madam, have patience, and listen ; it seems to be
oar lot to have to face the enemy along the whole line to-
dayl"
Julie resumed her seat, casting upon M. Antoine a
cold and severe look, which completely disconcerted him.
He hesitated, stammered, and uttered only unintelligible
aoQuds,
^ Come," said Marcel, ** you will never get it out, my
poor undo 1 Let me cross-question yon. To' begin at
the beginning : why was it that you mysteriously left
Riris on the morning after a certain tragic experience
which befell one of your plants?"
^What, are you going to talk about that?" cried
Antoine, his little round eyes beginning to flash furi«
ously.
** Yes, about everything. Answer, or I will carry off
the judge, and you will remain condemned."
** Condemned to what?" said Antoine, looking towards
Julie ; *Mo her hatred?"
Maieel was trying to bring his uncle to acknowledge
Us jrepentance, but, in ^ite of his signs to the contrary.
Madam d'EstreUe interrupted him.
^ No, monsieur," she said, ** to my blame and pi^.**
^Toor ^Ijl Pity ftr mel" he eried, in a rage.
ANTONIA.
"75
** No ono ever naed tlutword to dm befimt vaA If 70a
were Dot r womon — "
IIo pnoBcd, RDd (artied to Murcel :
" Fitj ie onotlier word for coDtempt," Iw aaid ; " and
if it is bj your advice that she talks to me so, FU Buke
yon p*y well for il."
" Tlien justify yourself if yon can," answei«d Uaroel,
boldly ; " for if your conduct has really been as tnaehep-
ous as it seems, yon are simply a detestable man, and
ereiy honorable woman whom yon hare inanlted has a
right to tell yon so."
" How hare I insulted her? I have insulted nobody*
I saw that she was going to throw hsrsolf away, I
wanted to kocp her from — "
"Throw herself awayl Yon don't knowwhat you ara
talking about. There ura certain dangen that a woman
like Madam d'Estrclle never knows, by which she cannot
be MAailed."
"Words I Words I I don't troqble myself, abont
phrases learned out of books. When a wonua gives
rendezvous to a young man — "
" KendcsvouB? Whore did yon pick np such iioD>
sense ? Whoever told you that, is a liar I "
" You are a liar yourself I You, the acoompUoe, the
confidant^ "
" There, stop, uncle I Damnation I Yon will drire
tno bcyoud all bounds."
" Get beyond all bounds, if you wont to I I aaw yoa
coming out of the theatre with my own eyes."
"And what of that? Sly wife — "
" Bab 1 Your wife is a goose I I saw Jnlien coming
out loo."
" Julion was not with us. IIo did not know that w«
were on the grouod-floor in Uie theatre any more than
we knew that he was in the gallery. And, besides, sup-
pose he hod been with us, what is the meaning of thif
mania for bringiD<{ accusations — "
" Accusations I " cried M. Antolne. " I accuse »>•
body except those who are guilty I And how abool
walkmg aim-io-arm in the night firom th« hot*! d'Oi^
1^6 ANTONIA.
mondo to the payiliooi where, hj the way, madam
remained until three o'clock ia the moniiog? It is poa-
•iUe that Madam ADdr6 may have been present during the
imenriew, I don't deny that ; but that is only an additional
reason for bringing accusations, as you say, you ass of a
lawyer I And how about all the meetings at night in the
garoen, that always keep her out until two o'dock, and
aometimes later?'*
^ Where on earth did you pick up this footman's scan-
dal?" cried Marcel. ** In what servants' hall have you
raked together such a heap of slanders?"
^ I don't hang about servants' halls, and I don't got
my information from footmen. I have a secret police of
my own. I have money enough to pay a few sharp peo*
pie, who keep on the look-out, and tell me the truth. I
don't deny it. I wanted to know what madam's feelings
were, and what her reason was for insulting me by com-
missioning Julien to turn me off. I had a right to do so,
and if I revenged myself as I could, I had a right to do
that too."
Madam d'Estrelle, who had fully resolved to reveal
everything, and take the consequences, listened to uncle
Antoine with proud indifference. The brutality of his
discourse,— -which she attributed to a diseased mind, and
excused on account of his want of education, — did not
wound her like the intentional and deliberate impertinence
of the marchioness. While his uncle was making his
agreeable remarks. Marcel observed her, and, in her dis-
dainful and smiling serenity, read a denial of his slan*
ders more eloquent than any words.
**Look," he cried, actually shaking the old man to
make him hold his tongue, ** look for a moment at the
woman whose reputation you are daring to assail I See
how superior she is to the dreams and lies with which
CM have been crammed I Yon cannot bring the faintest
nsh to her forehead ; her silence confounds your noisy
brutality I"
^ I shall speak when the time comes," said Julie.
^ Lei M. Thierry go oo« Toa see that he does not pro-
foko me \ aad| after he has Adl|y exposed my eondu^ I
ANTONIA. lYi
shall expect him to give me an aoooont of his. Yoa an
aufferiDg under my just iadigDationi Mbosienr Antoine
Thierry : do not forget that. You pretend that you are
innocent. It remains for you to prove your assertion.**
The old man was silenced for a momenti but he qoicUy
recovered himself.
** Very well," ho said, <* despise me if you ehooae. I
shall be able to bear up under vour contempt easily
enough. My own good opinion will be sufBcnent for me.
I have been angry, it is true enough. I have spokeQ
about you in an^r, and have tried to revenge mysw. I
shall deny nothmg that I have done. J^A yet I do
not hate you, — it only depends on yoa to have ma fiMr a
friend."
'* Confess before you beg for absolution,'' cried Mar*
eel ; ** what has happened? what have you been doing?
Tell us."
** What has happened ? This is what has happened.
Mordi I Chance helped me to gratify my anger. The
Dowager d'Estrolle applied to me to do her a service.
Two or three days bcforo hor husband's death I was asked
to call upon her. I had known her long ago in connec-
tion with some land that she sold me, and cheap enough
too. She was not so good a business woman then as now.
Well, I went. She said to me : * My husband cannot
last long, as every one knows. I am his heir, but I will
not pay his son's debts unless the countess surrenders her
dower to me, and I want to buy up the debts so as to
force her to do this. Furnish mo the money, and you
shall have part of tlio spoils. I will pay you for the ae«
commodation.' So I answered : * Pardon me, madam ;
I want myself to show that lady that she is in my power ;
but I want, also, to be in a position to forgive her if I
should choose.' Says sho: *Ah, what I What have
you against her?' And says I: * Just what I have.'
* But what is it?' * No matter.' * Tell mo— ' and so
forth. In short, to come to an end of the matter, from
one word to the other, I did finally tell hor the whole
story ; I said that I had wanted to be a friend to the
countess, and had been treated like a pirate, and that the
IS
tft ANTONIA.
. ntuaa wu ahft lud been Infloenced by Um intrisou of
Madamo Andri ThieriTi wbo w«nted to nwriy ner wn
to a gr««t Udjr, ont of vanitjl aod to get oth«n in tha
aaoH fix with heneir, — lik« tho fox who hod hU toil cut
off, ia tho atonr. Tho marchioiwsa wu pleased to find
out all thU, aod aha led me on to say porliapi more than
I meaot to, eapecialljr aa I found it agreeable to tell bar
•bout my tioublea. Finally, when ihe bad got it all oat
of me, abe loid i ' U. Tbieny, wo must lot this splendid
matriaga go on ; it suita mo I ' And said I : * But it
doeaa't loit me I ' 'What I Id love at your age ? — an*
giy? — jaalousi — who would hare believed it?' 'No,
madam, I am not in lore at my age ; but at my age one
doea not like to be fooled, and I have boea fooled. I am
not a bad man, bat I bare power, and I mean it to be
miderstood. It does not snit me to proceed against her
myself; but, if it amosea you to torment her, do it ; plagua
her well 1 When you have got through, if sh« auu my .
pardon, I will forgive her.' 'Very good,' the marchioness
■aid, 'I swear to abide by this anderstonding with yoa in
good failh ; so advance mo tho money. Here is my
note of hand, and you have \aj word besides.' She sent
ibr me aoain after the old marquis was buried. I hod
pleoty of flno stories by that time about the doingn in this
Bouao i I told her all of them, and the idea of i>rin;;ing
down tho prido of tho connloss ploasod us both. Tho
dowager said to mo tlieni 'How, revenge yonnelf; I
meaa to follow her to the ntlarmost.' Dut I always aiH
•wored i * Oo on, but keep me informed. I shall redoom
the'property, tf sho will reform.' Now yoa andontand ;
dowager dooolved me, but I got here in ttmo.
That braaks up alt my arrangements with her. Sho is a
eraftr woman, but she shall pay ma for it, — that's all I **
" Yon have not told tha whole, uncle. Thoro was some
oUwr qoestiea disensMd between you. Yon said to bar
joatBow, tltoalydapaBdiBpoByoatoarrangaaU thaaa
**<^ tbat^s my boaiaais. It baa BOthlmt to do with
XNatalL*
■iMk
ANTONIA. 179
V Excuse mo ; and in whmt an angrf Umm iha an-
swered, Never I "
'< She's an old fool 1 "
** But reallj, what did she mean? ^ '
** Why ? Go to the devil, will 70a ? Mind toot own
business I "
** Confess the truth, then ; you have some oUier pco-
ject on foot."
** I tell you I have not."
Marcel persisted that he had,
** It b all perfectly clear to me, unde,^ ho said ; ^ on-
able to marry a countess, you took it into your head to
marry a marchioness. In fact, it was a much more rea-
sonable plan than your first one : the age and the fortane
of the marchioness are suited to yours ; but I see that yon
• hare failed in that quarter also. She encouraged yon,
lured you oo, for the soke of obtaining a little money ;
and all the wiiile she was working secretly, and without
your knowledge, to get possession of the property of the
countess. If you liad come a few minutes later, she
would have accomplished her designs, and you would
neither have been married nor revenged."
Antoine listened to this expostulation with his bead
down. He seemed to be meditating ; but from under his
eyebrows he looked at Madam d'Estrelle, and saw her
surprise, and the ironical smile which she could not concoaU
**As for not being- married to that sharper of an old
woman," he said at last, rising, ** I thank God for my
escape. But as for my revenge, I intend to have iu
The devil shall not rob me of it."
''What is it to bo?" said Julie, calmly.
^^^Who said that it was going to be against you?**
cried uncle Antoine, whose tongue always broke loose
when there was least occasion to expect it; *^I have
known throe women in my life, and they have all laughed
at me, as if I were a little boy. Women indeed I Tliey
don't know any better I The first was Madam Andri
Thierry, who called me her brother and friend, and so
gave me confidence. Ton were the second, — you who
called me your good friend and dear neighbor, so as to
l8o ANTONIA.
get mo to give your lover a fortane ; and the third, —-oh I
that one edled me her dear monsieur aod her ezooUeat
creditory— - and she is the worst of all the three, for she
onlj wanted to pluck me, — the miserly old thing I Con-
aeqoently I shall make her pay for both the others. As
fiir yoOf Madam d'Estrelle, I pardon and excuse you 1
Love makes people commit groat follies, bnt, at all orentSi
it Is love ; a sort of infatuation which, as it would seem,
eonfttooo the brain and disables the reason. So be it,
madam I Give me your firiendship again, and do not
talk any longer of marrying either mo or iht other one.
I wish you nothing but good ; and I shall prevent you from
having my nephew the painter, because my nephew the
painter has not done what was right bv mo, and because
It Is not suitable for you to many a pamter.**
** There, then I ** interrupted Marcel, ** you were just
beginning to talk sense, and now your mania has seizod
you again. You seem to bo really insane upon that
point. Who the devil su;rgested it to you ? '*
^It Is time for this discussion to end," said Julio;
^ yon and I, M. Marcel, do not understand each other.
Perfectly sincere in my Intentions, — which I avowed
plainly enough in your presence to the marchioness, — I
am tired of seeming to foign. Listen to mo, thoroforo : I
declare to both of you, tliat my marriage to Julion Thierry
is agreed upon and sworn to beyond recall. Tes, Marcel,
Toa are to be my cousin I Yes, M. Antoine, you are to
be my uncle I AH your Information was perfectly cor-
rect, and yon can pay your spies liberally. And now
that I have made this declaration, yon will understand
that I must withdraw the harsh expressions that I have
used In referring to your conduct towards me. What-
ever that eondoet mav have been, respect for a kinsman
wiO keepmesUent. Yon are freetoabuse me, to shmder
me, to rob me. I will not reply, bat neither will I en-
treat your forbea r an c e. I have done nothing for which
to ask vonr fiMrgiveness, and. If yon reduce me to poverty,
EwUi only Increase my esteem and gratitude towards
who, even under saeh eirwimeranoes, is willing to be
aqr foardiaa and pcoCeeCor.''
ANToirrA. iSt
Harcel wu too mrpriMd to tpeak. HIi undo looked
■t tiim with KB oxprouion of triamph ; bat whan h« mw
how genaios his uCooiahmoDt was, bo beeuoo mon
gloomy ond irriialed thuD BTor at tho idoft ot btaa^ doSad
to his fftco by MaJnm d'Estrelle.
"It is dedded, thoD," bo saJd^ riaiag; "jroa an »•
BoWcd : yon will not OTsn liston to my flul propon-
tiODB?"
" By no means," cried Marcel. " State them. For
my piul, I do not approre Madam d'EatrcUe's detail
mmatioD, and I doclara to yon plainly that I shall opfMoo
this mon-insa with all my power. Spook, uncle ; fliF>
nish mo with nrgiimcnts."
"You aro right, for once," said M. Antoine; "bub
aho don't tliiok so 1 Sco how contomptaooa she ia ; aoe
with what na obstinoto, scoraful look she turns hor hood
away I — Oh, sha is worthy la bo tho nioco of my-aiato
in-lnw, — alio will treat mo just as sho'did 1 Toll hor your,
aeir, Marcel, what I proposo to do, provided sho will giro
up her dauber of tulips 1 I will givo her a roloaso from
all her debts ; I wilt Icaro her in possossion of her hotel,
her garden, her pavilion, her diamonds, her form da
Beauvoiais; in short, of all hor properly."
" Slay, stay I " aaid MorccI to Juiie, as she was abont
\o reply.
'* No," exclaimed Julie ; " I will accept nothing from
a person who speaks of Julion and Madam Thiony with
such aversion and coatempt. I do not miod tho 11^017
ho has done mo. I pardon mousienr for having ex*
posod me to the aarcasma and lusulta of the marchionesa,
and her circle ; but the enemies of those whom I Ion
can noTor be my fHends, and I reject their benefits aa
on insult."
" Wait, wait until you hear all I " cried H. Antoine,
stomplag upon tho floor. "Aro you possossod by a devil 7
You t hiuk I mean to ruin your friends. Not at all ; I shall
give them tho house at S6vrcs, which belongs to me yet,
if you please ; I will secure them an incomo and a good
port of my iaheritance, for my property b to be divided
among youraelf, Julian, and this auof a lawyer herol I
l8i ANTOJfU.
prapoM to nulw jon all rich uid bappf , oa ono single
coaditioa; And tbkt U, thAt tho pavilion be Tuated ii^
•Ually, umI UhU 7011 «I1 ewoBr upon jour lionor, and
■ign Tonr nunei to tho ontfa, that Madam d'Estrello will
iWTBr Ma Julian again."
Thia tima it was Jnlie who was Blruek dumh. AI<
thon^ then was reallj something of insanity in this
inezwablo old man, thcro was also a sort of fierce grao-
danr in the magnificotit way in which he accepted any
aacrifica iMCeMaiy to hcots the success of his jealousy.
He showed great shrawdness, moreover, in putting
Madam d'Estielle in a position whore, if she ventured
to eppooe him, Julian's iaicroets, Miulom Thierry's,
'and Uarool'a, m>nld be sacrificed. Marcel, however, d<H '
termined not to bo made use of in any way, haslaned to
reply, with great dignity and nobility :
** Undo," he said to M. Autoino, " you will make
ndi ftitare arrangements in regard to me as you xaa,y
see flu Ton know me too well to imagine that any ex-
pectations of the kind would weigh against my con-
Bcienoe. I said, a moment ago, that I did uot approve of
Madam d'Estrelle's detennination, and it will be my duty
to sahmit to her certain suggestions upon the subject.
Sut understand me at once : if she is not persuaded by
nyargnments, I shall never hint to her Ihot her resistance
hM injured me with you ; my conduct shall never be
influenced by a regard for my own inlercsls. Lastly, if
. abe aad Joben shall persut in their intention of marry-
ing, X will assist them in every possible way with my
•dvloa, my services ; I will be eternally their firiend,
their kinsman, and their obedient serTant.
Julio silently hold out her hand to the lawyer. Her
•yes were fuU of tears. She looked at Antoino, bat
could read nothing but immovable obstinacy in his homy
•od eopper>colorea visago.
** Lm us go to Madam ThioriT and Julico," she said,
risiag ; " it IS for them to decide.''
"Not hf any means I " cried U. Aotoine. " III have
BO Cde takso imawanB. At fliet, I know very well that
tbi pnialar win play tka siMt aaa, aad ttufc Ua vMiktt
''f
AKTONJA. 183
will put on Iicr grand aira. Besides, thciyirill bo ashnnuid
to yield before madomo : it will not da to lie lew
proud tiinn siie \ nllhough \\yej npent an hour aftar-
warda, the/ will say oxtietljr what abe does. I will wut
for mjr answer until to-morrow, and I will oome here to
recoive it. In the moonwliilc, Uwyer, cany mj flpal
Jin^KMilion to jrour prot^g6cs, and jou, 1117 bCHUtiflil
nend, reflect upon it also. We shall see whether 700
four will agree to rofiuo both my present gifts. Mid wj
future boqnesU. Good-da/, Uadam d'Estrella. To-
morrow, at this place, at ooon I "
As he wont out, Julie, pale and exhausted, fell ba^
upon her chair. He returned a moment after be bod
gone out of the room, aod looked in at her. Cartain
that he hod succeeded in brooking dovra erea bar pride
and courage, he departed in triumph.
VII.
I^ABCEL was a prudent man ; this was his nataral
^^ disposition, nod his profcuioool career had strengtb-
encd it. It is poasiblo to be both practical and gonerons.
It was under Iho iDQiicnco of both these sentiments
tliat lie considered the position of tho two lorars, and
argued with Julio,
" ilodnm," he said, taking her hand with an oSbo-
tionate good*will, in which there was nothing oSenttiTO,
*' to begin with, I must be lofl out of tho account in this
whole business. Provided Julion and Iits mother are as
courageous and de^-oted as you arc, instead of dissuading
tliem from making the sacrifice in question, I shall ndmiro
it. And, at tho outset, do itot exaggerate the eonsequeaces
of your present determination upon tlie future. M. Aih
toine is undoubtedly a man of bis word ; both in good and
OTil ke does as ho agreos. It is impossible, however, to
coqjectnre anytliing about the provisions of his will, aiaee
lia may numrf at as; mo men t . It is osrtaial; atnaga to
■8l AirroNiA.
•Man oU bachelor, — 'Abater of women waA of love,—
Mii«d, In hia dediDing yoare, with a rage for matrimony.
But for the vory rooion that it ia a tort of moaomoDin, no
prombet or rawlatiou thai ho mar mako will sare him.
Ho will flod, without doubt, what no ii looking for j aomo
woman with a title, no mattar whether young or old, ro-
qiactahle orotherwiBe,hand>omoor ngl;, will be tempted
ay hia money, and will get pououion of all bis estate.
"aSa rimplifiei the question, since we need not take the
" ' ioD of tbe propertj among ourselves into cou-
We can onljr reckon on present arrangements
aa cartain ; and in these, jrou know, I urn not a part/.
Let ns examine, then, the questions inunediotolj before
va. Those are impoilaQt enough. I know uncle An-
tdiut ; he will do what he propose* vrithia tneoty-fonr
boors, or not at all, Ue will come hore to-morrow with
bis papers all readf , — draiUd b/ himself; and, is spite
of Iha rudeness of his strle, not one iota retiuisiio to make
them pcrfectljr valid in uw (which he UQderstaqds Itettor
than I do) will be omitted. It is bjr no means likely that
Ton will be required to make a formal rupture with this
or that person, — such a stipulation would bo strooge and
nnkoown to the law, — but jron will hare to bind youi^
aelf not to maiiT again without M. Antoine's consent,
and a claoaa in the grant will make it revocable in case
yon violate this condition. It would be in vain, there-
fore, to hope to evade the proposed agreomont ; and, in
any event, your cbaractar is a sufficient guarantee that
you wonld not think of attempting such a thing."
** Yqu are quite ri^t, my fKend," said Julie, with a
■i^ ** I will never make a promise without keeping it,"
** Very well, then," eontinnod Uareal, " the project snb-
sdlted to OB Is nnpreeedented ; but it has actually been
isrmed, it cannot be evaded, and it wilt determine the
destiny of two persona most dear to you,— Julien and
hia mother. I myself, as I ezplalBad, am not involved
la this bniinsss. Ton are bound to consider it moct so*
tiooslr. Do you profor to think it over by yourself, or
■qrls^plauIytoyM all tbatlwoold have. said, if
ANTONiA. >Q5
7<Hi had Dud« m« your cpnfidttnt befim tlw ^ppaanaei
oFM. Antoiao?"
" Oo on, Marcol ; it u boat to toll oo nil."
" Lot us BuppoH thoD, nuulain, that It. Antolno, Is
■pile of Ilia angor, moke* 7011 a bettor olTor tb«n tlio nur>
cfaioneu : your moaos will oven then bo T017 modMmto ;
you will luivs, perhspa, an iocomo of two or throa tboiH
sand francs a year 1 Yon marry Jnlion, who has DOthing
to depend npon except his labor; yon will bar* duU
dren, and you will bare Madam Thierry to anpport.
Vou will be able to koep a maid for her, a nurso for your-
self, and o maD-of-oll-work, — unless Julioo himself layM
dowa liis brush to do tlio drud^ry that is neccsaoij ovoa
in tbo most modest household. Yon will live respectably,
no doubt, for Julien will work ; Madam Thiorry will kmt
all tho stockings of the family, and you will be econom-
ical. You can afford ona silk dress, and will commonly
wear calico. You will go about on foot ; you can't eveo
allow yourself a bow of ribbon without counting on your
Jingen to sco if you can afford it. That is tbo wsiy my
wifo began when I bought my practice, and I assure yoa,
madam, that wo did not c^joy it much, although wo wero
Teiy fond of each other. My wife was not a frirolouo
woman ; we had never been in easy circumatancoo, and
were unacquainted with luxury. \V'e knew voiy well
how to bo sparing, but we woro both of us troubled. Mj
wife was anxious at seeing me working half tho night,
and running about at all hours and in all weatbora, tired
to dealli, and with a cold in tho head. I was anxious at
seeing her shut up without fresh air and good food, and
harnessed, without intermission, to tho housework and to
her responsibilities as a mother. This solicitude for each
other was a constant and wooring burden. I giro yoa
my word, that the more wo loved each other £e mora
tormented we were, and prevented from alloying real
happiueu. We lost onr first two children. Ono wo
were obliged to put out to nurse in the eountnr, and it
was not well cored for ; the other we tried to bnng up at
homo, and it died in conseqnenco of tbo bad air of Puis,
l<tgMhar with thit &ebU health whioh it iabnitAd iioiii ita
l86 ANTONIA.
' mother. If we heye ooDtrired to keep our third alive, it
Is becaoeet bj eoonomj and iodoBtiy, wo have succeeded
in making ourselves a uttle more comfortable. At present
we are oontentedy and arc qnite well off; but we are forty
years old, and we have suffered a great deal I Our youth
was always a warfare, and often a martyrdom. Such is
the life m a poor citisen in Paris, madam ; and that of a
poor artist is harder still, because his profession is far less
sure than mine. People are always having questions of
business to decide that bring them to a lawyer ; they are not
. always in want of pictures, and most people care nothing
about them. They are superfluities. Julien will never
amass a fortune, as his father did. His talents and his
character, perhaps, will bo more highly estimated, but he
* has not the amiable frivolity, — the social tastes and bril-
liant manners necessary to make him a favorite in cer-
tain circles, which, when they fall in love with an artist,
have the power to bring him forward, and insure his rep-
utation and success. Xou must remember that my uncle
Andri would never have gained the position he hold, in
spite of his genius, if he had not been a capital singer, a
great wit, and a good story-teller ; and moreover, if cer-
tain .firivolous but influential ladies had not, at various
times, tempted him from his allegiance to his wife. He
adored her, notwithstanding ; but he used to say, confiden-
tially and very frankly, that he must deceive her a little
once in a whUe, for his own advantage. You turn pole ;
Julien will never follow that example, for it belongs to a
past age. But even if Julien should create cAe/^Pauvrei
of art, he will always bo poor. The world does not run
after modest merit, nor does it take the trouble to seek
after unknown virtue. His marrying you will, it is true,
make some noise,-* it will be a little scandal that will do
^ something towards bringing him into notice. That was
the case with his fathers marriage, but, as I said, the
times are changed. Nowadays people are more austere,
-^or more hypocritical,— than in tlM time of Madame de
la Pompadour. And then the same thing never succeeds
twice over. Pbople will say, *That jroun^ fellow has
been tiyiag to ape Us fatber/ sAd you will farmg him more
ANTONIA. 187
enemlos than wotecton. Agunst pm ther* will b« a
great oulcrj. 1 io not atippoM that tha old marebioiMM
will try to bare jou thrown ioto a convent, and Julioa into
the Boatile, for tha crime of mfiuUianoe, for aho boa 00
authority over 70a j bat ahe will do you even greater
harm by talking agungt yon, while yon will not have a
rigorous persecution to help make you interoetlng. Yon :
am well known ai a pereon of virtoooe character, asi
that very fact will make tho feeling against you mora
Tiolent and imphicnblo. All tha old pn^as will go about
saying that such mamagos are becoming altog^ar too
common, — that they must bo put down, and utterly di^
countenanced. £von tho litoraiy pooplq, — and sotneof
them are good friends of Julian, — will not dare defend
you. They ifaemselvos belong to good society nowadays ;
instead of being persecuted, tbcy are fclcd and corosaod ;
Paris is excited yet OTcr tho triumph that was granted to
M. dc Voltaire after his long oxilo. People laugh at
Jean Jacques Bousseau for fancying himself the victuii
of a conspiracy ; ho could haro lived, they sapr, comfort-
ably and respectably, if it bad not been for hia sour di^
position and diseased mind. The pbilosopbera take tha
wall of everybody now, and they are very careful no
longer to attack people's prejudices ; while those who re-
main of the great cmaado of freo-thinkors will neither -
mend their pens nor open their mouths fur the sake of
defending you against tho verdict of the drairing-rooms.
And all these cowardly insults will strike Julian. Ha
win live in constant uneasiness and apprehension ; he
will qnarrcl with all his friends, and probably will flgfat
soma of them — "
" Euougb, enough, Marcel," cried Jnlio, woeping, " I
see plainly how foolish I have been 1 1 have taken counsel
of a selfish passion, or rather hnvo acted without undei^ ,
standing social necessities. I see now what n burden
I should be to Julicn ; that his marriage to mc would
expose him to constant danger, and fill hia whole life with
bitterness. Ah, Marcel, yoo have broken my heart I
But it was your duty to do so, and I esteom you tho mora
for your oonrage. Oo and tell Julian that Iwish corao*
ST"
17''
of mi
bnlwB. Man Dimt I How can I tell him
**Jiilianiriniiot boliarajoo. E>gar tomffer for your
Hk*, bo will hbO* M yonr gntarona magiuuiinutj. He
bM eonrue, and force of character, end I hare no donbt
thet he edona 70a. If 700 coneiilt him ho will inatMillj
rr, ' Let ne he tnie to oar lore et whaterer ooet, in spita
f miaeiy, In ai^te of peneention 1 * He will hare no
miigiTiiigi about bimaelf ; and his mother, — who ie ae
oo or ageooi and diunterested aa he ie, ^ wilt uphold him
In bis determination. But imagine Julian a rear or
two hanoe, when he •eos his mother saflTeriDg I It a hj
u>bea(d«f eflbrts even now that he keepe her from actual
poreitT ; and in sptto of him and of heraolf, — iu apite of
aU their mutoal forbearanco, ^ there can be no doubt that
aba does aatttt. Madam liiierTj is an enthusiast, not a
stoie. She was not brought up to aoj emplojmeut, and all
•ho is fitted for is to sit oomfortablj in her arm-chair and
knit or reed. Besides, her health was Blwaya delicate.
She ooold oarer stand ou her feet until midnight to finish
inning her aoa's shirts, as mf wife could do ; her preuj
hands know as little about hard work ns yoois. How
will it be, then, when Julien shall hare a wife and chil-
dren ? Ho will reproach himself with jour nnhappinees ;
and if remorse oooe gain admiseion into so proud a boon
as his, brewell to courage, and perhaps eren to the
ahilitj to work io his profession 1 "
" Mydear Marcel, I told jon thotjou had said enough.
Adnse me ; direct me. Grire jour orders, and I will
obej. Ton think I oa^t not eren'to aee him and speak
to bin."
** I think eo, most eertiualf, xaj dear eonnlou. He
most not koow oorthiug about what boi' just Itappened ;
■ he must leoelTe M. Anioioe'e gifts vritboat eospecting the
eooditious upon which tliejr Are granted. Otherwise, be
weold refbse them."
** Maroel," aaid the eotmteee, rising, and ringing the
beO, **I miit kave nj hoaa at ooee, aikd iMTor rotnn
to It."
Thaai
ANTONIA. 189
" Send for A canugv," aba uid, •* utd leH CkmOla llwl
I want her."
" I sh«ll tak« nothins with ma," bIn eonUnnad U
Marcol. •'Tan muat nutke it jonr daljr to paj off Um
Borraou, and to uod kftar me ndk of mj thing! m ntj
ba BOC«s&ary."
"But nbcre will you go?"
" Into some conreDt out of Faiia. It makas do diAr>
anc«, u long OS you alooa know where I am."
Camille made hor appearnnco. Julio put od bfr BMBtla,
and when she had left the room cootinuad :
"It must be, my frioud. Madam Thianr will ba
aoxioua to know what hiu happeoad, and will coma to
ioquira ; if I atay a siaglo momont longer, I may aoe her.
And even if I could deceive hor, in tho aTening, — ah I
in the eveniDg Julioa will wait for me in tho garden ;
eod when ho sees that I do not join him, be cannot help
' comiug to mp at my wiDdotv. I coald noTcr hava the
stroogUi to leave him in mortal anxiety, and I oould not
uttoranuDtruthtohim. No, no, — letusgonway. There
ia the carriage in the court-yard. Come, let ma not loaa
what little courage I have."
Marcel felt that she was right, and offered her Us
arm.
*' Come, madam," he said ; " it is God who iospiree
you, and Ho will support you I "
They drove off, pretty much at random ; tho countess
gave the coachman the address, first of one convent and
tfaoa of another, without really knowiog where she
wished to go. Marcel at last betliought him of & cousin
of his family nho was at tho Ursulincs, at Choillot, and
suggested that iostilution. Thoy wont there, and he
himself aTrangod for hor accommodation ; paying for a
week's board aud lodging io advance, wiih an under-
standing that the lady, if satisfied, was to have the privi-
lege of remaining longer. Julie assumed tho name of
Madam d'Erlange. Marcel charged his cousin to vouch
for her, and see that she was properly cared for, but did
not admit her into their coofidenca. As Julie sntered the
eonvant marely as a boarder, she had the privilege of
I90
ANTONIA.
seeing Marcel in her room, where she gare him her final
inatnietiona.
** In any eTenti" she said, *' I will not accept any farors
irom IL Antoino ; thojr would he odious to me, and 1 no
longer need his assistance. Since he is mj only creditor,
let him sell all mj property, and paj himself in full. I
will retain nothing, except my twelve hundred francs a
year; and as I intend to live alone, that will he quite
enough. Do not let him reserve my furniture for me, or
send memjrdiamondS|-» I will not accept them. He maj
draw up the engagement himself, stating that I will never
many. I will sign it, in return for the conveyance
which he is to execute to Madam Thierry of the house at
SiTres,and of an income whoso amount you shall act for
me in adjusting. You are also to stipulate that neither
Madam Thierry nor her son are to he informed of any
of the facts about me. You can toll them that I am
gone, that I cannot see them, that I do not wish to do so,
because -» Ah, num Dieu t what can you toll them ? I
do not know.' Tell them whatever you choose, but let it be
irrevocable, without being cruel ; do not torment them with
false hopes, for they are weakening, and it is agonising to
wake from them. Tell them — tell them nothing — Ah I
I can neither think nor wish any longer — my strength is
aUgonel"
•• I will consider what to say,"* said Marcel ; «« I wiU
think it over as I return. I leave you in despair, and
yet I must go. My duty for the present is to get you
settled here, to keep Julien from being frightened out of
his senses at your disappearance, and to reassure your
servants, who will he waiting for you, and who, when
they see that you do not return, may make inoonvenient
inquiries or observations. ' Cknne, madam, be heroic I
Be calm ; I will return this evening, — sooner if possible,
— and will try and bring yon some comfortable news from
the pavilion. I must deceive Julien in some way, but
hoW| I don't know any more than you do. Good*by ;
wail te me ; don't write to anybody. It would not do
tela le be eootradiccing eaea <^ttMii« X^xa^vi^ ^w^
bitterly. X have puncd job tcinbljr, my poor Saaad,
and now I miut leave jroa alone. It is fiighUhl I *
As lia ■pokoiAInrcelweplwilhootkiiowlDsU. Tooched
by Ibia ovidonco of liis ^of and doTOtion, Julie ammtcd
ma appcarunco of fortiludo tbat abo <lid not poiseat, ud
urged bim to depart. But u Moa M ho bod gone, iha
locked boraelf up, threw henolf upon her poOT Uttle bed,
bid bor face, and weeping, sobbing, wringbig her huidi,
abandoned henelf to her grief, tintil ihe Iwt all eooKua*-
oess of wbero she was, and of tbo erenU that hod w
■nddeoly torn ber from her borne -and toimtr ■■trrit-
tions.
Marcel, when he reentered the Goach, wiped hia ejaoi
reproached. hinuolf for his weakneu, and tried to reoaoa
hinuclf out of it.
" What we resolve," bo aaid, " we moat bare ooorogo
to perform."
Ho had one lost hope that ho had aot moationod to
Julio, — that of changing M. Antoino's resolution. To
him, therefore, bo went tirat of all, but bia seneibl* ar-
gument! and heartfelt eloquence fell oliko upoit a doof
ear. The scIfisU old man was happy and triumphant.
Bo was draining his sweet draught of Tongoonco, eqjoj-
ing it, and did not mean to leave a drop at the bottom of
the goblot. Thoy both gavo vent to stormy reproacboa
and iovectivca, but Marcel could not change hia resoli^
tion; becODSODted at Inst,— and this was tbe onlycoo-
cossion he would agree to, — that Julion and bii mother
should remain ignorant of tbo cruel bargain that waa to
purchase tboir prosperity.
" You will find it diflicult, as it ia, to conr out your
scbome." said Uorcel ; " take care, or you will make it
impossible. Mw<ftm d'Estrolle ia the only one who baa
consented to it as yet. Julicn would bave refused. Yoa
must deceive Lim, or else you will gain no advantage
from Julie's submission."
" I'm tirod to death of your Julio t " cried M. Antoiae.
"Much sho bos to oomplaia of; a woman to whom I
ua nving aveirthing, — fortune, poaition, and liberty I "
" Ym, the liberty to die of sorrow 1 "
t9S
ANTONIA.
■ ** NonwoM I Do p«opk dio of lonP That U Sut
talk for ■ Uw^orl I<et ber tmitj to anit benolf ia
btr omi rank oF lifo ; X wilt mako no opposition, — aha
BM/ Miect whom aho pleaaes, I object to no odo, oxcopt
tb* daabor. Uerora a fortoislit liai paued, iho will bar«
OMBod bar ejrof, and will thank mo, Sbo will acknowU
Mg« wr greatoeta of aoul, and will call me ber benefao*
tor. Tba fact i«, that jroa wro all cnujr together. I take
buadrodf of tliottiandB of fraoea out of laj pocket, and
<io{ tiiem about to a lot of ungrateful foob, and tb«r turn
•rmiml and call mo a bad ralatlre, a bard-boartod lellow,
ao old dog, an old misor, and I don't know what beiidei.
Upon mj word of honor, the whoU world aeenu to be
eraiTi at praent."
"Nobodjr boa called yon thoab samei, oncia; no*
body baa culed jou anj names at all. There ia no name
that wobM describe yoar extraordinary character ; and
no other man in tbe world haa fouad ont the secret of
S people corse the hand that enriches them."
"Come, jou are making a speech ; jou imagine tou
are in oonit. Go along, you bore me 1 Tell your Juues
whaioTcr yon please, I don't want to see cither him, or
yon, or anybody, I am going back into the country."
**Tbat means that yon are going to shut yonrself up
bare, and barricade yourself against all tbe |p>od reasons
that X eonld give yon."
"FDesibly. Now yon know what a fiaa timo your
food reasons will have waiting outside tho door."
Marcel took good care not to tell bis uncle that there
vaa a far simpler and cheaper way than the o&o be had .
•dinned of preventing tbe marria^s to which be was so
TioUUly opposed) that, namely, of aUowing Uadam
d'Estnlla to kwe ber fbrUine, and trattiag to tbe infln*
aooe of bar own prudent and generous reflections. Nor
did be coosidar it bis da^ to t^ bin that she bad refused
Us gift.
"After an," be tbongbt to himself, " who knows bow
Ittfif tfais paaUoB will last? Jolie may, perhaps, rooorar
from It anar » time i and, in that oveot, sba wlU not b*
<ilptoasad to iod banalf at Ubor^, and woalthT."
«93
1
\
\
dool xnoro »n tijci ^ great dcw ^^^tUtttoto^'"'*"
Ho left' *** -routed to Boe^ ft*^ tli«mo»her l**
v«to\ and iw ^^ "^"'Ja had reported tbftt tnc « ^^
^° '40 reconnoitre, ««»* ."J^^orihe garden. »• " v^^^^
none to row"" .jjo »»de *' '"" f,;ii tbeT«> i W *; '
Entirely closed "^^T^agcr vos '^V ,£., depart"'*'
1 '^^ of Me Antoiu« o rnt'terrv »o WXJ^ "" /».-- lines*
nortuog ®\. ,r^^ ia Madam Ti^l®^!:-^ftnd ber » »^ *!^r!
in order to ••»»•'
«9»
ANTOHIA.
domgsi'i MsodBlooB procMclian. Ha wu snxioiutjr
miting for Um oToaing, itsd dsn nupioioiu wen begiiH
ning to cTMp into his nuDd.
"Whokaowi," hslhoagfat, " wlwthftrtlwdow«ger«Dd
JL AuKniM h»vc not joio^ in • eonspin^to hava Julia
caimdoffaadoosflnod iuneonvnit, on » cbuge of mis*
It wu no longer euj to obtsin I«<(r«( d» eaekeL ; but,
b^ntttu of eertain fonnoUtiea, on e»^)oi(/ac(o jodgment
ooold be procored, nod nn onUwful impriaonment l^al-
iaed. Thia would bare been qnile practicable in the preaent
cue, nnce a lore a&ir with a plebeian wu etill eoD>
■iderad among the rnliag elaases « scandal such u a
faini^ of nok might righifullj paoiah.
Bj the time Uaroel arrived, Juliea wu almost ont of
bis sens es . Madam Thierry looked tronbled and de-
jected, Uarcel saw that tlus wu not the moment to
^eak plainly.
** There is news," he began, assuming a calm, and even
T**'***^ axpession. " We were jast about to sign, when
mtde Anioine appeared amongst us, like a god ont of the
eloods at the opera. He got angiy, and had a quarrel
with the dowager, who up to that mmnent bad had some
nnderstanding vritb him osainst the interests of Madam
d'Estrelle. This showed him his mistake. He hu re-
pented of all his foolishness, aitd offers jron a splendid
lademnitj ; indeed be is going to seise this oecuion to
make up for all his shortcomings, and I most saj that
be is acting with great disiDtenslodoess. I hope you
wiQ feel kiodlj towards him, not only on acoouot of bis
He will pay her prob^y double the amount
ofbred by the dowager. He behaved so well, indeed,
that aha onisidered it ber dntj to thank bin, and to
■save tba hotel at ooee, m compbanoe with bis wish."
**Slwis«oe?''eriod Jnlien, tomingpale.
** Certainiyl-. She bu gone to stay a few days in tb*
aaaatxr. Whatistboiasarprisingin that?"
*• Ah, ICazeal," said Madam Thiany, ** yon evidMitly
doHtkaow*^*
ASTOStA. 195
** I do not dadra to know aoytLiag ouUida of the ▼07
important coneenu that nqmro ■]! m^ ftttentioB," n>
plied Maral, with decuion. " I have liftoaed to^^ to
« great maajr foolish remarki, to a great nutnj iiyniMHU
and impertioeat ioAinuatioDi ; but I do not intend other
to belioYO or to remombor aof of them. The luuae of
M"^"*" d'Ectrelle ia a tacred one to me; bat I hsv*
adrieed her to keep out of light for a few dan."
" Keep out of light?" ideated Julies, whoea ^>pM-
henaiona itill continued.
" i^rUeu / One would eopposa that we wen in
Uadrid, and that lomebodj had been buried alira in
the conrent cellar. Wh^ are yon w tragic about it?
I have only persuaded hor to be dead, lo to speak, Ibr
a week or two, until I can ascertain the state of her
affairs, and adjust them. Lot ua be ontirelj quiot, and
show neither dissatisfaction nor uneasiness about her
absence. Whj should we revive the evil designs of the
marchioaess, just as M. AntoinD has succeeded, for tha
moment, in baffling them? Abore all, wa most be car»-
ful not to act in such a way as lo dopriTa Julie of thtt
protection and regard of our rich old friend. There is
DO need of undertaking to explain that gentleman's siif
gulor mode of reasoning, for the devil himself could not
do it. W^e can, however, take advantage of his pecu-
liarities ; and no one hero ought to think about himself.
The point ii, to consider the ^>od of Madam d'Ertrelle."
Marcel now went into details, and referred to figures
which compelled Julien's attention. Ho showed that Julia,
by acting with prudence, could secure a modest eomp^
tence, and that, by displaying too much pride, she would
lose it. So for, the plot formed agniast her by M. Antoine
and the marchioness had come to nothing ; they had been
waiting until she should provoke its explosion by trying
to resist the dowager's claim. It was M. Aotoine's duty
to protect Julie against the accusations which ho hinw
self hod originated; and ha was the only person who
could do this, since his wealth provided him with sufflcient
resources against the common enemy. Ha showed b
diipoaition to do what was right, he waa repentant, after
196 ANTONU.
Us f»bioa i ht bad coma to hats th« m«rehion«u, and
aU tbat ha uk«d wu to ba allowad to maoaga the whola
nwUar himaelf. It was abaolutel/ neeeasaij to acqiii*
•see, sod to wait tilantlj upon his moremenla.
Jnllao waa ttot altogather eatisflod with this •xplBDA'
tioo ; ona thing atill tronbled him. Was not M. An*
Unna trjing to inflaanca Madam d'EstroIla's plans, and to-
nt tha coatrol of her property, with tho axtravagaot
id« of antrappi&g hor into a marriage with himself?
Uarcel taaaaurcd him cnliralr npon this point ; he gare
bin hia word of honor that tha old apbinx had altogether
abaodoned this projacL Lastly, Jnlien asked Marcel
wbelhar ha eoold also gira him his word that ho had
adTised Julia to depart thus suddenly ; whether she was
■bU to come back whenever she shonld aoe fit ; and tf
she was perfectly conrinced that her Absence would bo ■
advantageous to herself, and lo henelf exclosiYoly.
Marcel eoald oonscienlioaBly reply that all this was
. so.
** Ton know, of comsa, where slie is," continued
Julien.
"I do," replied Hanel; "but I cannot tell, for she
made me promise not to. If she chooses to inform any
one else, she will write ; bat as she desires to keep M.
Anioine and the dowager entirely ignorant of her whero-
aboats my opinion is that she bad belier have no con-
fidant except me. And now that I have axphuned
arerylking, let me tell yon what compensation M. Antobo
pco p os ss lo giro you for resigning yonr lease."
. " Wait one moment," said Julien ; " was this oompeo-
aatioo insisted 00 by Madam d*£strBlle? Is it not tho
prie* <tf sooa additional tonneat inflicted upon her high
. spirit, or of some sacriflca on her part?"
"There was no diseosuon whalarer abont It," said
Marcel I '*M. Antoino stated Us iatantiona himself,
witboot waiting for any one to moke any demands, or to
proposa any conditimiB. It is pioboUs that ba has in>
tondad fiir a long timo to oadow yoa with tUs property,
along timi
itbabonso
fiir bo owBS tba bonso at 81n«i,Mtd ha^TMittoyott.
ANTONtA, x<^
" Ab, MM JK-tl" erisd M*d«m
tha papers, "aod an income loot It
— I am both rojolcod nnd alarmod I "
" Yes," Mtid Joliea, who wu itill nupidonf, " tlMS«b
■omotbias bock of all thia ; Mme tnp, parhaps."
Alarcol hod a grant deal of troubla in making thorn
aecept tba perfidious gift of M. Aatoin* ; and bad to aaj,
and even to giro his oath to it, tliat aocb was tha ozprsM
desira of Madam d'EstrolIe. BeTon he l«ft thami Im>w>
ever, ihej hod become quite oompoiod. Joliea voa (till
anxious, but be concealed his npprehoniioas, so u not to
disturb his mothor'a joj at the idea of reiuning to the
homo when she hod lived so long and >o hapiHly. liar*
eel now hurried to the hotel d'Estrello, and diroetad
Camillo to pock up whatever her "'»"*■■ would need Ibr
a short stay in the country.
"Ab, mon Dieal" exclaimed Camille, in miprisa;
"and did not the countess send for me to coma and jua
her?"
" It is unnecessary, for so short a time."
"But modome does not know how to pot np her hair,
norhow to dressbenelTI Why, think of it 1 A person
who has alwa}'s been waited npon according to bar
rank."
" She will find servants enough in tha house whera
■be is staying."
" They must be poor people, at all events, if modiimfr
thinks they can't afford to keep her sarronta fbr bar.
Perhaps she is quite ruined herself. Oh dear, oh dear I
Such a kind and generous mistress."
Camille began to cry, and her grief was perfectly do*
cere ; but she added, notwithstanding, —
" And my wages, Mr. Attorney ; who will poy dm? "
*' I will pay everjrihing to-morrow," said Marcel, who
hod often witnessed similar demonstrations of sensibilitj
mingled with prudontiat considerations, — a atato of mind
that is naturally developed by sudden disasters. " Hara
all the accounts of ilie household made out, and do yon
take the keys until then. Ba responsibia for aveiTthiDf
until to-morrow."
■98 AUTOHU.
** Very mil, monnoir, Z will,* *05w«nd Um Ud/t
naid, boginning to wb tgun ; " but an we to Imvo
Btdua'i «inploj]neii(? Ii iIm not coming bade at
aU?"
" I did not uj thit, Bod I hsr* neeiTod no ord«n to
linw to ntam either to dinner or supper, and that ib*
need not expect him onUl ten or eleveD nt cighL Then
be went beclt to the coorenU Julia, atler pouring out
■11 her lift in leera, bed risen, and bathed her face in
water; bat it wae pale and cold aa marble. She was
very qniet and depruaed in manner, and adeemed like a
dead penon moving about. She revived n little on learn-
ing tlwt Ifaroel had succeeded in mtEloadiog Julien, and
in qnieting his suspiciooa sufficiently to induce him to
aeeepi the means of liviag that M. Antoine had convejrod
to his mother and himself. At Marcel's request, and
imder bis dictation, she wrote a note to U. AnIotDe, en-
gaging never to see Julien again as long as she lived, on
ooodition that the house at Sevres, and the annuity,
ahoold oerer be taken from him. She would not make
aiqr similar oooditioo about Iter own property, and Mar>
oel did itot yet ventnre to speak to ber about accepting
IL Anioiae*8 release £rom her debts. For the rest, she
made no complaint, but looked worn out with fatigue ;
aod when be look ber hand, Uareel perceived that she
was feverish. He penoaded ber to soe his cousin, sister
Saint»Jnste, and arranged with the latter to have some-
ooe sleep in the next room ; nor did ho leave until, in the
iBost fauierly manner, he had make every arrangement
for her comfort.
Jalie had a qniet night ; she was not one of thoee
•trans natoree that can maintain a long struggle. Her
eoosewnea t^ her that she had done her duty, and her
tret passiona t e ontbunt ttf sorrow had been so sudden and
violent, that she vecy soon yielded to exbanstion, and fell
asleep. The next morning, after thanking the person who
had watched near her, aho stated that eba wished to bo
sdoaa, and MOt .bar vrnt^. Sha made b«t vm M^iisNuK
AirroNiA. t99
and finding that sha waa a little airkmrd is parfbn^g
this unocciutomad talk, aba rosolTed to fonn new haUta,
and went to work at ooce to dear up her room, maka bar
bod, pal hor things i& order, and utablifh heraeif in tbia
poor liitle celt, oa if abo had expected to apend all bar liiii
there. All thia she did almoet ma e ba n ically, and wilboat
either effort or roflection.
When overything waa arraoged, aha aat down in a
eb<Ur, with her hnndi daiped on bar lap, and remaioad
for a long time looking out of tbe open window, wilboat
■eeing anythiag, liatening to the coBTont bcUa without
pa/iag any attention to them, and not eTSO remembaring
to eat, although ahe had not token aojtbing for twaatf*
four houra. A clap of tbnnder, exploding in tbo rerjr
room, would not have made her irainble.
Towards noon, aiater Saiot^Jmite came in, and found
her abaorbed in a melancholy reverie, which aha mistook
for a atate of beatitude. Some natures, when cmabad by
affliction, ore so sweet and gentle, that their actual aoffeiv
iug is unauapected. The aister, howsTer, in paasiag
through tbo little room that acrred aa Julie's aot«-cbaii>>
ber and dinin^room, noticed that the breakfast which tba
aorvant had brought had grown eold, withoot baing
touched.
" But you have forgotten to eat anything," sha said to
Julio.
" No, my aiater," replied the poor desolate creatura,
nowiUing to complain ; " \ was waiting until my i^ipatila
ahould rotum."
The nun persuaded her to sit down at tbo table, waited
Qpon her voiy kindly, and tried to divert ber with ber own
simple and insignificant gossip. Julio listoned with inex-
haustible patience, and evon exerted herself to show an li^
toreat in all the rainutiiD of the recluse's life, in the details of
the establishment, in all the stupid little events with whidli
nuna in anch a community occupy their leisure. What
differanca did it make whether aho listened to that or to
sometbiag else? Nobody could annoy or fatigna her any
more. Har soul aaemad perfectly void, and waa inoapabia
of raeainng a saw impnaaion.
Vlien Mucal eanM Again in ihs afternoon, bit coonn
Midtohim, —
"71111 D»de yon tell ma that this ladj waa ill, end !a
mable? S)m slept well, and witbont a MHind ; ihe break*
fkitBd raaaonablj well, althourii rathor late, ood she
■hoirad great inteieit ia oonveniag with me. She is rerj
fiTP^W", and is sotMrionaly tmbapn^. I will anawer for
that^I kitow aboot nch matters I
Haroal was alarmed at this patient sorrow incapablo of
tMClion. He had coma to tell ber what had happened
that momiog at the hotel d'EatrcUe ; bat ihe made no in-
qsbies, axeepting aboot Julian and his mothor. On
learning that Ibejr bad mored, and wonM sleep that Dight
•t Sinss, she was satisfied, wid refosed to hear anjrthing
** I do not want to hate anybody," she said j " such a feel*
ing would onlj iiynre mo, and wonld do no good. Do not,
therefore, saj anjrthing nx>re to me about M. Antoino for
sersral days. I beserch you, my friend, lot me reconcile
myself to my lot as I host can. Yon see that I do not
immI against it. That is ss mnch as is neceiury."
As tune went oa, she became more and more qniot.
She waa oztromoly polo ; but the nun assured Uarcel,
and with truth, that she ate and slept suOlcienlly. Sho
did nothing all day, and disliked to soo any one, but oon>
staaily affirmed, ~— and truly again, ^ that sho did not
•afite ttma ennui. Absorbed in thought, sho was patient
and sereae. Uoreel could net understand anything about
sack a ease. He persuaded her to see the physician of
the eonvent, and he reported that bor pulse was a little
Mile, and ber oomplexion a little pUegmatia — an ex-
B»essiw> used at that time to denote a i^edominance of
nmph in the mtem. He prescribed quinine, and t^
llanel that nothing serious was the matter.
la &et, nothmg was the matter, except that her soul
was (piiolly unking, and her life &ding away. She obe-
diently tow the quinine, took walks in ^e oonTent-garden,
onsiasntsd to reeaiTe Tiaiu from sous of the nuns, who
Ihoa^ ber a Tsiy nice peisoa, pronlsed to road some
Mwbooks that Hand bno^ h«, bat wUeh iha ^ uA
ANTONIA. m
«pe&, uid Uid out ft piece of KnSmiifoj wfaidi iba ^
Bot bogin. So oxtranMlr quiet wen her wm, thet ibe
Uvod almost invisible in Uw eoorent, um eontiBnsd
to foda awa7, ilowlj, without ft eriiis of aay kind, bnt
•toadil/.
Marcel was deceived by her »pparant tru>qnniit]r.
Uistaicing the sudden destruction of her will fbr en in-
mcnsc force of will exerted in the stni^o to conquer her
love, ho tried to cure her with mistaken remodie*. Ho
occupied himself in ondcBToring to restore her phjwcal
health. Telling Julie that ho hod purchuod n little
coimtiy-houso at Nontcrre, which, in fact, was only rented,
he persuaded hor to move there ; and, satisfied oa to Ca<
milie's discretion and doTotioo, sent her there too. He
furnished Comillo with-inoney enough to hire a good oook,
and mode arrangements to supply iho table of the connlos
with more delicate and nouri^iiag food than she hod hod
in the convent. The cottage woe in a healthy situation,
tho air was good, and it had quite a largo garden, wallad, '
and not too much shaded to prevent the sun from warm-
ing it thorougUlv. Books, work, innocent goraos, and
Julie's harp (in those days every lady played more or less
upon tliis graceful instrument, and Morcd did not forgot
to send hers to her new retreat) gave the drawing-room
a cheerful aspect. CamiUo, whom the lawyer hod ia*
•tructod, kept her mistress in ignorance about what had
happened at the hotel d'Estrello, and of tho condition of
her own property. She made her bolievo that ovorytbinj
was extremely cheap at Naaterre, and that she might
therefore indulge herself in comforts, to a certain extent,
without exceeding tho amount of her little revenue. Julie
chose to be poor, rather than to receive any favors from
M. Antomo. On this point, only, Mmxel hod found her
<^position invincible. Ho had hod to tell her a dowit<
right blsehood, end to moke her believe that M. AntcMna
had taken possesaioii of her hotel, hw diamonds, and all
that she owned.
The diamonds, in realitr, were safe in Marcel's hands ;
the hotel was kept in good repair ; the horses ware in the
■table, wall gnxuned and Ad, and the oaniagea ia iha'
MS ANTONtA.
eoadnlKKue, ^o BemoU had been paid off and dit*
duuiged, bat with im nndentaading ttutt for a eerUiD
•grnod l«ira thej ihould bold thenuelvea in remdinoss to
ratnni Kt onjr tima whon Madam d'Estnllo herself ahonld
MOW bade The porter had charge of the hoose, and
' UDded and exer d aed the hortes ; hu wife dosted, aired,
•ad doaad the rooms. H. Antoine's head gardener had
diarge of the flowen and the tnif, and U. Antoino hin^
adf made tba round* of the place aroTy moming. The
panlioD, deserted bj Madam Thien7t was shut up and
aOaDL Otherwise, nothing was changed since Julie's de*
pwtim. All the furniture was in its place, and tho mm
■boDe <m the deserted threshold.
Two EBonths thus passed awaj. TJnde Antoina actod
vAf as tho gnardiao and business suporinteDdent of (he
bom. Ho proposed to retain tbb olnce about the place
nntU meh time as it should please Julie to rosumo the
nanagement of her property, when he meant to dolircr it
vp to her 'unchanged, and eren to see that nay of her
hoosohold whom she wishod to recall should be ready to
aerva ber. Tho porter had orders to inform visitors that
bia mistress still retained the ownership of the property
tamporarilr, and had gone to inspect her estates in Boan-
TOina, with a view to adjuat soma final arrangemenls.
In otlMT words, Harcol and M. Antoine, for Uio sako
of an>earaaoos, had ogrood to represent the situation of
Hadiun d'Estrello, as tho continuation of a trace arranged
with bar creditors. This state of things had already ox>
istad for two years, and it was therofora the boat oz|uana>
tkn that coold be giren of bor present position. It
WKdd be aasy aaongfa to find soma final statement, when*
•tar tba eooirtaai bmoU rotoro.
Navanbaless, Julie's friends, tho old Doka de Qnasnoy,
Ibe prssidan^s wife, Madame des Morgsa, tho abbi da
Nif ilras, etc., bmn to feel greatly surprised at not bear-
iDf from ber. Her sudden doportnre, — thanks to the
raporls adroitly eironloted by the lawyer, — had been
■ Mirfwt orily acooonted fiw ) bat why did aba not write?
SbaluutbaTaiyla^; or, perhaps, shawaa ill. Was
Aa MaVy is BaaavflUa? Thar aaltai thwa ^MftScm
ANTOlflA. aog
•moiig themMlvu, bat tiu old Dnke da Qnemoj had to
go to tbo wixn of Vichy ; tha preiUast't wifa wm ab*
eorbed in oucoding to her dAngbter'a narrUga ; tba abU
wu a good dool lika k cot, which forgoU all about a
honM whaa the fire goea oat oo its hearth, and Madaa
dea Morgea wu iodolenca peiBoiiified. Tbe Mardiioeaa*
d'Estralle waa the onlr penoo who would !»▼• nada
■orioui ioquirios, and her malic* wu paraljsed bj IL
Antoioe, who threatened ebarplj to pnUiah an accoont
of her conduct, and roclaim bis money, if iha entandiBto
any investigation, or Teotuied to tnaka any uakiad r^
nutrk about Julie.
In nil that rcUtod to tbo ropatation, tba safoty, and (be
pocuniaiy inlorcsts of his victim, it cannot bo doaiad,
therefore, that M. Antoioe acted with re m a rk a b le good
foith, prudence, and dovoUoa. Ho took coiusol with
Marcel, ditcuBsed varioits plans, as if bo wen seeking to
promote the wolfsre of his owu dauzhtor, and followed
his advice with parfoct exoctituJa. But upon the main
qucBlioD of all, — the union of the two lovora, — ho waa
ioQexiblo ; Marcol tried, in vain, to soUcd him. When
pressed too bard about it, ho got angry, sulked, and shat
the door in the lawyer's face ; so that, upon this point,
Marcel saw nothing in the future but indennito delays.
Meanwhile, Madam Thierry and Julien wero luxuri-
ously established in their praiiy liiilo house, wboro tbey
bod found intact most of ihoir furniture, and a number
of works of art of groat value. Tlie latter U. Antoino
was too ignorant to appracioto, and had quite disdaiood.
Julian felt no confidonce in the unozpocted generosity
of his rolativo, sltendod, oa it had boon, by so many my>>
terioua circumsiancea, and for which lie hod boon forbid-
den to thank him. He was so uneasy, indeed, about
the whole affair, that he would horo refused tbo gift
altogether, if it hod not been for the obrioua duty of sae>
ritlciDg hia pride to insure his molhcr'a comfort, Mat^
n'ally, tlioy wore reolly well olT. The annuity of fir*
thouMiod francs eoablod tliom to livo in a modost way,
without waiting every week, in feverish anxiety, for tha
procaadi of WMU7 labor. Madam Thieny ooidd itot b*^
-90^ ANTON/A.
ftdiDg extreme delight in retorniDg to her own honaet
bear dearest reeoUectionef her old habits and her old ao-
qntintmoces. The circle that gathered around her was
less nomerons than in the days when she used to keen an
open table, but it was composed of reliable people. Only
her true friends sought her out; and, knowing that her
Income was not laige, they took pains to secure a good
•ale for Julien's pictures. It is only when free from dis-
trisss that one's talents can be used to advantage. J^licn
no kmger found it necessary to fatigue himself with orer-
work ; patronised by an intelligent and friendly coterie,
he a^iered, without difficulty, an assured success. When
bis mother expressed the secret dissatisfaction which she
■cUl felt at being under obligation to M. Antoine, he was
able to console her. "
«« Don't be troubled," he said, «« I will pay off aU that
we owe him, and in spite of himself, if necessary. It is
only a question of time. Take comfort. You see that I
don't allow Julie's absence to make me unhappy, and that
I am waiting an explanation of her conduct, confidently
and firmly."
Jnlien had not altered in behayior or manner, — not
eren the expression of his face had changed, — since the
vnhappy day of Julie's disappearance. At first, he be-
liered every word that Marcel had told him ; but, when
he received no letter from the countess, his suspicions
began to be aroused. He made inquiries which satisfied
bimthatshewasnotinBeauvoisis, and gradually began to
guess some part of the fatal truth. Julie was free, ^
there could be no doubt about that, — for Marcel had
ewom that she was so, repeatedly. But he revised to
swear, or even to affirm anything about her state of
feeling; upon that point, everything was loft to the
artist^ eomectures. Marcel persistenUy refused to be the
rednleoi or his cousin's confidence, and thb made it easier
tot him to elude his questions. The Machiavelian plot
of M. Antoine was too strange to occur to a straight-
ibrward mind like Julien's. Jealousy, without love, he
bad-new even conceived of; and he would have con-
iidersd il an iasok to JaUoi and a tofct^ taat^aiCK^
AHTONiA. X^
admit tbat tha «1d mui wu in Ioto irith bar. ITor wu
tb« old man in lova with her ; nolbiDg U mora cerlaiD
than that. And yet, nottrilhatKiidiag, ho was oa jonloiu
of Julion as a tiger ; nod it ii truO) also, that the moit
implaoablo form of jctilonay ia ibat which U unaecon^
panicd by love. Julian thought ho woa iusaiw. Who
can coigecturo iho Khemca of a eraiy man?
But, whatovcr these schemes may have boen, he was
firmly punuoded that they could not have hail any sflfoct
upon Julie's rcsolation.
" No I " lio said to himself; " no money consideration
could ever have weighed with a heart so noble. Jnlto
wishes to break off hor enga^mont with mo ; she b>
lieves this to be oeccssnry, and, although at tho cost of
great sufTcring, she severs the tie in silence. Sho is %^
proheosivo about her reputation ; the marchioness has
threatened to destroy it ; and hor friends havo persuaded
her that if she marries a plebeian, sho can navcr regain
her social position. That is the opinion of the world.
Julio believed, for an instnat, that sho was superior to
such pr^udicct ; her love for me mode her ovorestimato
her strength. Her character is proud and noble, but hor
intellect, perhaps, is not very powerful ; nud, at present,
she is exerting all her force of chamcter id favor of
prejudices which destroy her love. Poor dear Julio I
she must be unhappy, for sho lias a kind heort, and
must feel that I am Buffering. But for herself, I am
almost certain that she wishes to forget me,"
Marcel felt more hopeful about Julion's mental recovery
than that of the countess. lie saw the young man as
seldom and for as short a time as possiblo, ia onlor to
ovoid his questions. One day, being obliged to como to
the house to report to hU aunt on a matter of businoso
with which she hod intrusted him, ho fouud hor alone.
"Where ia Julicn?" he asked horj " in hia studio? "
** No, ho has taken to gardening. It sooms to bo a
consolation to him to sow and plant in this dear plot
of ground which we have recovered. Hs has been ia
tro^a, Maicsl, — is far greatsr trouble than yon kiww
teS ANTONIA.
o£ Ha wu ia Ion with Madam d'Estralle ; X waa qnit*
right about that; aod otbd — **
"Wall, well," laid Haroal, who wished (o aroid anj
diadoauru, " it ia alt ov«r now, ia it not? Then'a aa
aodofit?"
" Oh Tea," replied the widow, " I beliere so. If be
baa been dMaiviDg mo — s No, aAer all the bopea which
be eDtertaiaed, he eonld not do ao ; ia it not tnio, Mar*
eel? Ho eoald not deceive the vyv» of a mother who
■dons him?"
" Undonbtadl; not. Good-night, and pleasant dreama,
•ant I I will go and bid good-daj to Julien."
" If he is deMiriog Lis mother after the destmction of
hit bopos," thonght Marcel, as ha looked for Joliea in the
ahmbberjr, " he's a devilish resolute fcUow I "
Julian wa* digging a trench to transplant some jouoz
treea. He had on a linen smock, and was barfr4ieade£
Standing in the loose earth, with his hands resting on tha
handle of his spade, — like a laborer pausing to take
breiUb, —he whs in such a profound rerorie that ho did
not hear Marcel coming ; and iho latter, seeing his profile,
was struck bjr the expression of his fkc*. The grief
which bad alimdj altered Julie's boaot; liad not jet left
an/ trmee* upon that manly coanteDonco, but be hod th«
same strained expreauon,— the aame look of fixed, mel-
■Bcbolf bopelessnees, — which Marcel bod noticed in her.
When Julien saw his cousin be smiled, but without onjr
' atort of surprise. It was precisely so, with this some
cold, patient smile, that Julie reoeiTsd him ; a smile sweet,
bat terrible, like that which sometimes flits orer the lipa
of the dying.
"That ia bad," tboogfat Moroel; " he i« devDish reso-
lota, that's tbo fket ; ac^ yet bo is, perhaps, tha most on-
Ikaspy of the two."
So distiassed did be foal, that be could not hide bis
•motion. Ha waa Tacr fbod of Jolien, and his prudence
failed him.
"What is tba matter?" he said; "yon are unhappy I"
** My friend, yon know rary well that I am unhappy,"
anawand tha artiot, qaittinf U* qp«da, and wukmg
AlfTOJflA. tiOJ
aoder tha treu with hU coiuia ; "bow oonld it yoanhXf
be otherwiM ? Yoo knaw there u » wonuui I am is
loT« Willi, — mj mother hu told joa eo. Tb»t woman
bee disAppoend. Yon seed not toll me ebe will
roiiim ; I know porfecll; well thet she moet ratarn. Bat
I know, eleo, thet I ought nover to enter her piMMaoa
■gain, — that she ie dead to me."
" And — have jron the coani;;e to accept TOnr fltta?"
" Ab — if it ie mj dutj I Yea know one alwaj* h^
cepts ooe'e dutv."
" One eubmiu Id it with more or len fortitude ; Mill,
a mao is a man, and canoot help feeling."
" That is tmo 1 I sufier exceedingljr, Uaroel, bnt I
have kept mjr dieappoiatment to myself hitherto, and
•hall continue to do so ; you need bare no doubt about
that. Why, then, do you rcfiuo to help me a little? It
eeenu to mo that you might do so. Yoa haTO b«en Teiy
cruel for the last two months."
" How can I help you ? " inquired Marcel, who feared
that ho wonld try and pcreuado him to raveal Jolia'a
retreat,
"JfoniKeu/" answered Juliea, divining hie fi4eod*t
thoughts, *' yon can tell me that she's happier than I
am. I will ask nothiag more of you."
" But how should I know ? "
" You see her two or three times a week. Coma, mj
friend, you have done your duty. KxiviDg your d^
Totion to her, and to mo also, perhaps, yon have endured
mj distress with a terrible courage. Bat I have found
out some of your secrets. I learned yesterday, from your
eon, where she is living."
" Julio don't know what he is talking about ; ho don't
know her."
" He saw her one day at tho theatre, and, although
ho don't know her name, — ho calls her "the counti^r
client," — ho hoe never forgotten her. Her grace and
sweetness mode a great impression upon him, and be baa
often talked to me about her."
"Well; goon."
'^Ue went last Sunday to the fiu at Nantane, with a
ao8 AITTOHUU
tnmA ofhb own sge, did he not? Yon pnt him nnd«r
tho caro of tha Ilttio follow*! pAraaU."
*' Ym, it*i trno."
" The boji eecapad from their oMen for » fow miantei,
Mid nui about the riUago, The little roguec won
tempted br « tree loaded with frait, and haaglDg over
a low woU. Julio got npon hii comrado'i ehoulden,
reiehed eome of the bouglu, and, while he wu flUiog hit
pockets, Mw a woman go bjr luideiDeatb, whom he
roeogniied. X know the street, and mado him describe
the appeareiwe of the house. Going to Nanteiro, I made
. inquines, uid learned that % Uadanw d'ErUogo (that is
Julie, — rhe has taken an assumed name J was Uring there
with her mud ; that she never went out, out was uMer no
sort of snrveilUoce, and was living alone bjr choice ; also,
that she was not supposed to bo ill, allhongh jour son said
that she was changed. What is the meaning of all this?
- either sbo is a prisoner on parole, or it afraid of beioxim*
portnned bj me. Uarcel, tell me the real troth. IT the
latter is the case, bring her homOf I implore /ou, and
assure her that tho need feel no anxiety; tcjl her I
swear bv all that it most sacred nerer to see her again.
Do joa bear, Morcd ? Answer, and idiove me &ou tbe
torment of this nacertsintjr."
" Well, it ia very much as joo say," answered Moi^
col, afUr a little hesitation; "Madam d'Estrelle is a
prisoner on parole { but the eagagoment into which the
Las entered u with hersslf, and nobody can Ibroa her to
keep it. She is frae to reton, hut she cannot see 70a anj
"Cannot, or dots not wish to?*
" 8b« neither con, itor wlshw to."
" Very well, MarcoL That Is enonj^ I Ltform her
of mv delermioalion to submit to ber decision, and bring
ber back from her banlshnent She is poorij lodgoa
over then, and must be terribly lonely. Let her
retura to bar friends, her oom f orts, her liberty. Go at
oaee, won't you? Hostsol Don't allowher to snfir •
single moment koger ^oa my ■seooiK 1 "
AlfTONlA. 309
"Var]rwbll,IwiUgo,"MudUu«aI; Tm going ; but
about yonreolf? "
" I>oQ't thiok of mo," eriod JulS«a; "whatl hftTva't
you gono yot?"
IIo coruiall; embraced Marcd, bnt, ai the mum tima,
fairly put hint out of tha door by tho BhouUars.
Aa soon as be was out of Mg^t, Joliaa w«ot to his
mother.
" Well, mother," be said, with a dieerful countonaim,
" thiosa look better tlum I had hoped. Madam d'EatraUa
U Dot a captivot nod aha ia aoon eoming home."
Aa be said thia, he watched hia mother. She uttarod
au exclamation of joy, but at tha aam« tima • tbadow
passed over her face. Julioa eat down by her ude, and
look both her hands.
" Tell mo the truth," said he ; "the idea of tliia ma^
riago troubles you a little? "
" IIow can I help eameatly deairiug aa ereot that
would make you happy? I was only a litllo itarttod^
because I thought you no longer hoped."
" I have been very resigned, as you advised. Toa
told mo not to be discouraged, but to wait, and not to
think too much about her; yon waruod ma that aha
would perhaps forgot mo, and that I ought then to IbrgM
her."
" And you promised me that yoa would forget, if qoo-
essary. But now I see that you are thinking of her
more than ever."
"Anddoa'tybu think I have reasons for nyoidog?
Toll mo frankly if I am dccoiTiDg myself ; yoa ought to
prevent ipc from doing so."
"AU, my child, what shall I tell you? She ia an
adorable being I I am liko you, — I lovo hor; bat will
she be happy with us?"
"You know that M. Antoino is doing almost as well bj
her ns by you ; that ho liaa placed hor above want. Toa .
were afraid we would suffer on aeooont of oor poT-
erty, but that need no longer be feared. Now, what u U
that troublea yoa ? "
"Nothing, if she lores yoa I "
3IO ANTONIA.
^ Toa sigh as jon sa/ that. Do 70a donbt it?**
** I have doabted it thos far, nor can 70a bbme me 1
If I do her an ityastioo, it if your faolt and hen. You
did not take me into' yonr confidence, allow me to watch
the growth of Toor love, to follow its phases ; and when
700 told mo one moraing, * Wo lore each other to dis-
traction,' I must say I thought your passion too sudden
to be TeiT serioos. It seemod to me thai you hardly
knew each other ! When I confessed my lore to your
father, he had boen three years at worit decorating
our house, and I had seen hmi every day. I had had
many good offers, and was perfectly sure that I loved no-
body but him. Julie's position in regard to you is very
different. She has lived secluded, and has not yet
received proposals from persons of good position, whom
she might have loved. She was longing for affection,
and was suffering terribly from ennui, without acknowl-
edging it. She saw you, and esteemed you, as you desorve.
Tou pleased her, naturally. Peculiar circumstances have
thrown you together, and she imagined that she loved you
passionately. Did ^0 deceive herself? The future will
show ; but she disappeared at the very moment when she
had promised to avow her engagement, and has let
you suffer and wait without sending yon one word of
consolation. If I have doubted her, yon must admit
that appearances are against her.**
** You think, then, tlmt her prejudices are stronger than
her love? Yon think she was not speaking the truth
when she told me with what enthusiasm she would em*
brace a humble position in life, and how little she cared
for rank and tides ?**
** I do not say that, I say that she may have deceived
herself about the strength of her attachment for you, and
the reality of her disgust for the world.^
' ^ And yon would not be much surprised if yon should
be toM that you had judged oorrsctly ? **
^Notmneh."
^Normuch distressed?**
^ That woidd depend upon yon; I should he afflicted
k pcpportioii to the bitterness of your regrets. If x^ol
bora the blow bnvolj, I ibould ujr that it wm tfaa bMt
thing tkst could haro bftppeOMl ; axiA tbat jroa will toiD*
dftjr aecura the Inve of k wiMr and Btronger wonuto."
" Poor Julia I " thought Juliea to bimMlf) ** twta nxj
own mother regwdi ber 10T» for nw u a mistake aim
" AVell, motbar," ha continnad aloud, " tako comfort I
She baa renouncod tho dream wa indulged in togstber ;
aba so longer belisTes in it, and i> onlj afraid X will
seek to recoil it to her mind. All that yon foiaaaw baa
bappancd. Harcel iuu juit been telliag mo about it, aod
I hava girea bim mjr word that I would aavar mo bar
again."
" Ab, mm i>i«u / " cried Madam Tbian^, atartlad and
alarmed; "how can you toll me aucb a tbmgsoqaiaUf?
Can you really be >o indifTerant to her as that? "
" You SCO for joUFBclf. I was voir much disturtMtd
the first few days, nor did I bide tlua from you ; but, aa
timo passed on, I bare understood perfectly the' sileuc*
of Madam d'Eetrello. My tranquillity now is the result
of two months reflection. You need not be astonished,
therefore, and I hope you will believe that I have enougb
pride and good sanse to recover from any sorrow that I
may have felu"
Julien's firmness was sot assumed, be spoke in perfect
good faiib. But be did not confess lbs whole truthl H«
was suffering loo much to make even a half-way avowal
of his misery safe. It was absolutely necessary for bim
to keep it entirely to himself.
In the evening it was very warm, and he wont out to
take a swim in the liver. He usually joined, for tbia
amusement, a few young artists engaged in the poicelaia
Dunufactory, whom he was in the habit of assisting with
advice and iostruclioo. But to-day, wishing to bo alone,
be avoided tbem^ aud selected a solitary spot on the mu^
gin of a shady meadow. The weather was dull and
gloomy. lie threw himself mechaoically into tbe water,
and all of a sudden tbe thought came into bi* bead, as ha
was swimming along, —
"ido Dolmlasif IconUaveriMorarfroiDtbiaaimH
eioiw pftln. If I ahoald atop atttklng oat flir « ftv io'
■Uqu, thii wBior would awkllow up mj somw, and keep
tlio Mcrot of m; diuoarogomeat."
Ai tbsM tbooghU poMod ihroagli l>i> mind, lio itoppod
iwimmlog, and sank qniokly. But ho romomborod ki»
nwtbw's dnpair, and, as be' toochod boUom, MUt hinuelf
to the top again with ono ipriug. Uo wu a fino swim-
mer, and perhapi ran no rlik in tbii trifling wilh doatb ;
bat (be tomptatioa waa powerAil, and there is a (emblo
bidnation £d the idea of sniddo. Throe times be
yielded, with more and more longing, and saved himself
wilh less and less resolution. A fourth time the bewil>
deriog frensj seised bim, and with more violeoos Ihao
erer. Ho (brew himselfupon the shore, frighteoed at
himself, and, Ijing upon the sand, cried, —
" ity poor mother, pardoo me I "
Then he wept bitterly ; for the first time siooa bis
fiuhbr's death.
Uis tears afforded him no relief. The weeping of a
stroujr man is a frightfbl Mgoaj ; stifled cries, terrible
■offocatioas convulsed bis frame. Ha blushed at his own.
weakness, and at being obliged to confess that ho could
not rally from it, and might, perhaps, never do so. He
relumod home, discontented with himself, and almost
cursing the days of happiness that he had etyoyod. Thon
be be^A to be engij ; and, while bis mother was asleep,
be lingered alone is the garden, watching the lightning
that fdayed along tbe borison, and reproaching his mother
for loving bim too much, and depnTiog him of the lib^
orty of disposing of himself.
" It is slavery," be cried, '* to be always living for
somebody besides yoareelf. 1 have not even tbe right
to die. Why should I have a mother? Those are most
Ibituoate who have no ties. If IbeV still desire to pre>
serve a life that is ruined, they can plunge into bewilder-
. lag disaipatioo, into iatozkating dabaoebaries, and so find
fiitgetflilBSis. For ny part, I hare ikW aran that right.
I caaaot area bava tba eoasolatioB of beiog malancboly
andlU. lomiedlobya slow Ore, aod with a smDa i
— to abed atoar Is » erimal I oaaioi ImailMk ^aa^
ANTONIA. Slj
I cannot hara > dreun, or speak fa nr iloep, bat vxj
mothor U np, ill heraelf with aUnn. Nor can I maka
aajr diango ia mj way of living ; I cannot IraTol, I17 to
flud rorgotfulnua or diotraetioa ia motion and tatiffiie ;
an/thJDg of that kind would nuko ber nnhappy. To \m
without mo would kill bor. I tnnst b« eiibur a hero or
■aint, in ordor to keep 107 mothor alivo I IIapi7 aro vr-
■ plinna and Dbandoocd childroo I Tbcj an not c ' '
to cany a bunlca too great for their strength."
As soon OS Uo had girca war to this rcbcllioD _
falo, other blasphemies rushed into his mind. Why hod
Julie como to ialerrupt his dream of dorotedncss and rir-
tiio? Ho hnd accepted all the obligations of his poeitioa,
and hod fulllllod them ihoronghljr. What right had she
to toko poucssioD of his lifo, becaose weary of ber own
solitude? Was it not wicked and cowardly in her to
have revealed to him the jors of hoaTcn, — to him who
hod neither hoped for nor asked her lord, — only to leave
him aflerwards to the hDmilietioD of having believed in
her?
" You hare made me a wretch 1 " he cried, raga and
grief coDtending within him ; " yon have robbed ma of
my self-respect, of all love of my art ; you have made ma
curse the love of my own mother, distrust my strongth,
abnudon myself to the stupid and shameful notion of aui-
cide I It would serve you right if I should rerengo
myself, — seek you out amid your friends, and reproach
you with the loss of my faith, my peace, my dignity. I
will do it, — yes I You, also, shall bo crushed by my
misery."
The idea of Julie's future life, such as it would protn
ably bo, occurred to him, and his heart was torturod by
all the pangs of jealousy. Ho saw her in tlta arms of
Going off into the fields, he wanderod about at ran-
dom, until bo found himself once more at tho edge of lb*
water. The storm had become violent, and a traa, not
far off, was atniek by lightning. Ho rushed nn to it,
hoping that the ume bolt would strike him. Th« rain
•114 AjrroirtA,
fcD in tormti, bat h« Karealj^ felt it ; it wm almoit
d«7liriit whan ha rotnraad, uhMsod Icit aar ooa ihoald
MS him io such % dementod condidoD. Ha slept two
Iwan, and awoke exhwistad, fUghtenod at what hod
taken pUoe within him, nod determinod not to let him-
•elf be carried away again bv the violoneo of a pauioii,
wboao extrema daDgar he had not before nodoratood. It
was with a good deal of diStcnl^ that be got up nod took
braakfaot with his mother.
** Sineo lore is the tnpreme good of life," he eoid to
her, "I hod alwaji boliered that it must elarala and
■aactifr. I see, howeTor, that it is nothing but an «xa^
ganted selflshness, and that it mokes as either madman
or fools. Lore most be conqoerod, hut it cannot ho
WokOD off like a material cham ; it must be gradually
•xtingoished."
JaUeo had a violent attack of fever, and was delirious.
Za his ttvoxj ho revealed all his agonv to his mother,
•od she also, in her heart, earsed poor Julio.
l£arcel, in the meanwhile, hod gone to soo Julie.
** Madam," said he, " joo ought now to go back to
fonr honsa."
"Never, my friead," she replied, with her melancholj
B vanr well off here ; living on my little
income, and with all I want, why should I he discon*
toilod? Unless you object to having me romaJn in yonr
bouse^"
" The house is not mine. X doeeivod you as to that ;
bat yon can remain in it, unless yon will do what I ask
yoa, out of regard for Jolien."
"For Julien? — How wF"
" Jnlien knows where yoa ore. He knowa that ft is
your wish not to see him again, and he has given his
oath that ho will not atUmpt to disobey you. Re snb-
Biu ontifoly to a decision, whose mobros he does not
)toow. Ton have, tharaforo, no raason for eoaeasling
TDmMlf any longer,**
««Ahl very wen,- said Julie, io a bowild«r«4 «ic»of
my; — ** hot where shall I go?"
** T« Flute [ to yott- own ttoBa,"
AITTONIA. ai5
" I hiiva no home."
" That ia pouible ; but 700 an mpoMd to bo tonpo-
mil7 ID posaeasioQ of tout hotoL Yoa ar» ompoMd to
bo 4iTftDgiog « eoUlciMDt with U. AntoiiM. It ii boit
that 70a thouUl b« weo ; if yoa prolong jour m7»teriotu
abaeaco too much, it will give riaa to iiupieioaa and cat-
am dios."
" What would poople M7? "
" Whatever can be eaid of a woman who ia uppoaed to
hare eomelhing to bide."
" Whet differonoe doea it make to me?"
*< For Julien'a aake, you ahould gnard joor repntation*
So far we have aucceeded ia praTentiag enyinai nuationi
fivm boieg made againat you."
" Julien knowa very well that I have nothing with
which to reproach myaelf.".
*' It is for that very rcoaon that he will cut the throat
of the Aral man who anya a word to your diaodTanlage."
" Let ua go, then," aaid Julie, riuging for CamiUe.
*' I will do whatever you wiih, my friend, provided I
never need aee M. Aatotno again."
" Do not aay that, madam ; I bad one aingle hop*
left."
" Ah, you have one single hope lefl, have you ? " aaid
Julie, with her wistful smilo.
" It would not bo tlio truth to call it a rory woU-foundod
ODC," answered Klurcol, lodty \ " hut I muat not abaDdoa
it, except at tbo lost cxtramiiy, Do not doprivo nu of
the moana of subduins the obstinacy of M. Antoine."
" To what purpose / " answered Julio. " Did you not
explain to mo that it is a misfortune for a plebeian to
marry a woman of rank ; that in auch a case bis life be*
comes a torment, a marlyrdom, a frightful struggle? "
" Ah, madam, but if the plebeian is veiy wealthy, moot
people would pardon you,"
" And so I must ask your uDcle to enridi the man I
love ? I must dishooor myself in my own eyes, and per>
hapa ia Julien'a, in order to obtain the pardon of a croel
and heartless world. Yoo aak too much of me, Marcel ;
f 00 at« taking adrantag* of my weakneaa and submi*-
Sj6 ANTONiA.
•irauM. lb/ Ood gira ms ■tnagth for on* thing, —
to renit 70a in this ; for, ftfter nica & ahuaa, I ilionld
feel that I lutd lived too loog."
Foot Mareol wu ovorwhelmod with &ttgao ud Tex»<
tion. H« had exhatutod binuelf ia moung about, ia
argning, in efflnu of all kinda, and aU ba had aeeom*
' idubad ma to rMcua hia fKenda from porarty, and place
tbom in a eeadition of matarial eomfort. Aa far ai r^
garda tbair apiritaal atata be eotild do nothing ; and ha
•aid to hia Wa that evening, —
"Hy good friend, noibiog i« falaar than the real. I
bare bean trying to aocare them the maana of living, and
baT* an^ roooaaded ia killing tham.*
VIII.
TULIE rattimed to Fttria and to bar former luzory ; she
»l found her eqaipogeg, bar jewel* and aerranta awaiting
bar. M. Antome hod been a laithfltl guardian, and the
hotel d'Eatralle was unchanged. She paid no attention to
anything. Hareel had vamly h(^>od that aha would at
leaat feel aome aort of InstinetiTO h^ipinea* on being sur*
founded <mce mora by tbesa Ibmiliar aconea. lie was
alarmed, and almost Taxed at her immorahle indifbrenoo.
He had sent word of bar reton to such of lier frionda as
he ooold commnnicate with, and imagined that aha would
feel oUiged (o arouse banalf in their presence. She met
them, howcrer, vrithout amotion; and when they ex-
preaaad alarm at bar pale n ess and evident e x haustion, she
attributed bar changed ^ipaarance to a cold which ahe
had taken oa the joumay, and which liad dels bed her in
the eoontiy longer than she sxpseted. It was twtbing,
.aba aaid ; aba lud bees worse, and was now improving ;
and hadprefbned not to write, in order not to alarm any>
body. She pmnuaad to see her physician, and get welL
As Ba r aasss d'Aneoort eaUsd a few days after bar
•Riral. - . - -. .
ANTONIA. n<f
" I hare treated you badly," ehe said. " I am aony,
my dear Julio, and I havo come to ask your pardon."
" I have no iU feolings towards you, replied Madam
d'EalrcIio.
" Oh, of coureo not. I knoir you are n great philof
ophcT, or else a great saint. But you are a woman, too,
my friend. You have boea persecuted, and you suffer."
" I do not understand you."
" Oh, mon JHta I You hare been tonneatcd by yoar
creditors so long, that you liave become quite accnstooted,
I know, to being persecuted by them. But it seems thera
came a crisis when you were in danger of losing eveiy^
thing. It is said that you have secured a further delay,
ollhougli with a great deal of ditTicult}', and with the cer>
tainty that they are only drawiog back to make a surer
spring. You told Madam dcs Uorgcs so, did you not?"
" Yes, it is true. I am only staying here while a final
adjustment is being mode."
" But you will bo able to save something for your-
self?"
" I do not wish to retain any of M. d'Estrcllo's prop'
erty. I ought to surrender it, and I prefer to."
" No wonder, then, that you are bo pule and changed.
I was told that you wcro wonderfully resigned, and it is
perfectly true ; but you ore ill with sorrow. You do
wrong, my door friend, to reject the consolations of
friendship. You are playing a very grand part, but it
will kill you [ If I were in your place, I would maks a
great lamentation and outcry. It would not help ma at
all, I suppose, but it would bo a comfort. And then I
should be talked about, society would feci au inlercst in
mo, and it is always a consolation to aiiract attention.
You, on the contrary, are allowing yourself to bo buried
alive without saying a. single worJ[ and the world, which
is seltish, will forget that there is any such person in ax-
iatence. Ouly yesterday erening, they wera talking about
you at the Duchess de B — 's. * That poor Madam d*£»>
trelle,' said soma one, 'sbo is quit* ruined; have joa
heard about it? She won't bttpa the maans of hiring a
fiacru to make oalla.'
ai8 ANTONIA.
***Wh«t7' Skid th« AEuquii ds S — , 'most w« we
waA • pm^ womui u that going sbont on foot? Im-
poMililal Shocking! Is ahe veiy oah^py?' — 'Not
•t all,' umrered MAdun des Uorgos ; * aha n.j* ihe
win do perfectlj welL Sho U an aatoiuahing penon ! '
.Aad thttn th«j chongod tbo inbject. The moment 70a
ibov that jon have courage, nobody haa any more com-
painoa for too, and all tho more ainoa it ia eaaieit to be
thinfcwig oofy alMNit one'e aelf."
Jalie odIj amOed.
** It frigbena me to lee jdu imile in that way I " oon-
tinved the baronen. " Do jon know, my dear, I think
JOB ai« very ilL What ia lh« oae in being ao roaerred?
If yon are ao very eenaitive, you will grow careleta about
yoDTadft aod diet or languiah along, and loae yonr beauty,
irtiieh ia wone than dying. Take core of yonraelf, Julio,
aad do not giTe way as yon are doing. We are not as
modi deceived aa you think, by your wondorful courage.
Wa aQ know perfectly well that it ia impossible to lose a
fiirtaae, without regret. Do you know,— I must repeat
it, area if it does vex yon, — I think yon made a great
mistake in not marrying that rich old man \ and perhaps
it is not too lata to reroka yonr decision. Nobody would
Mama you now ; when a woman is utteriy ruined ^ " ■
"An yon commiauoned to make mo another offer
^00 hia part?" said Julie, with a littk biUamesa.
" No, 1 have not seen him since the day we qoarrelled
^oo bis aocouoL He haa called aereral times, but I
gave orden that be was not to be admitted. Don't, at
•av rata, feel diagnalod with the idea becaaae I have
. nnrred to ik If he ahoiild retnm to yon, don't reflua
him ; and if be marriea yoo, be aura that I wiU rocaiva
Um Ibr your sake."
"Toaare too kind 1 * said Julie.
** Ton ioaiat on being Btiff aadprood with nw, doyou?
And yet I am yonr firiMkd, aad hare proved it. I fought
» battle in TOUT debiKa a littk whils ago. One of the
Muduoaasi d'Eatralla'a friends, soma cowardly fellow,
w alaU d to attar aa ta aina at ion againat you in connec t ion
iriftaainiipiAeaBtpaintar,aoB «f tha iuow'ni^MH^
ANTONIA. St9
' — you know who I mMtn, — tba krtiat wbo liTvd «t Ai '
flod of TOUT garden. I Raid that a wonun like 70a wndd
noTer degnde henelf oat of pan friTolitjr, and ocdmd
him to be ailmt, I was i»omp(l7 •acooded bjr the abbi
de Nm^rw, who ttaled that the young man did not ana
know yon ; that bo bad gone to lira at S4n«a with bii
mother ; that ho was a capital fellow, and that ha dadand
exproaalf that he had never seen M'dmn d'EatroDe the
whole time he bad Urcd near her, and that this was tba
truth. By the way, you naod to take an interest in Ibase
people, did you not— in the mother, at least? Do jon
still SCO (hem ?"
*' She has no need of my serrices vof Vmgn, ao thati
bare do reason for seeing them."
" It is only your health, thea, about which I feel tst^ .
mnch concerned, that is troubling yon? Stay,Iamgoing
to spend a moath in Chaatllly ; suppose you aoeompaoy
me. yfa shall see a great deal of company, and it will
do you good. If you regain your pretty color, perhaps
we will Sad a husband for you."
The bnroQOBs at lost took leave. Chattering, offering
her scniccs, and lamenting over her friend to the rtxj
step of her carnage, she made n groat outcry against the
seltishQcss of the world, and all tho while did sot care
the least in tho world for anybody except herself.
"Julio is a great deal too proud and suspicioas," she
thought ; " I declare I won't call there again in a hurry.
She is vexatious enough. If she wonts anything of me,
she knows where I am to be found."
It was pretty much tho some with all Modsme d'E^
trelle's acquaiotances. She hod novor realised, bcfon,
the negleci into which those fall who abandon themselvw ;
and she ceased all tho more to caro for herself, bocuise
her heart was withered by tbb iodifiorcDce.
After passiug several days in this way, withoot seeift-
ing to consider about taking any measures of any kind,
■lie waked up, as it were, ona morning, and said to
Marcel,—
" I have done as yon wished. I have shown myself to
my friends, expUiiwd my absence, and inibrmad than
SM ANTOHtA.
(Iwt I WM won gtnog vrnvt Again. It b tlm* to wind
«p xeij %fl»xn definitely, and nugn my booM to IL Ao>
toina. Uy poipose w to lira io oaa of Um proriocaa, ^
la aoBo Miulary placo wbero no ooa kDowi ma. Camilla
win acco mp aoy nw, and I shall tak« do one elae. Will
yoa bo ao good as to diroct ma in Mlectiog soma lonaly
saigliboiiiood and exMcdiogly hnmbla abode?"
** Tbera ii osa great diffleolty in the way," aaid Uar>
ed ; " U. Antmna will not allow any liquidation to ba
made. Hu relaaaa ia fall ia in my poitfoUO) and ba baa
•0 idea, BO Tar, bot (hat it has been acoepted."
** And yon receired that releaaa fnun bim I " cried
Jolie, indignantly ; " be belierea that I bare aeoepted it I
Tea ware not eonraaeoua eoongfa to tear it op, and throw
it in hii face I Ab,I begyoarpaidonillareell I forgot
that ba ia your kioanuui, and that yoa muat naceaianly
treat bim wiih reapect. Very well ; giro ma the docu-
manl, and bring AI. Anioine here. The tranMCtion moit
be doeed to-day, and I will aueod to it myeelf."
** Ba caraAil, madam," aaid Uareel, aoeonraged by the
^aam of energy that M«'i«"» d'Eetrelle diaplayad when
tbia one raloerable point waa touched ; " M. Antolna ia
bimsclf extremely irriuble, and it gratifiea hia ranity to
feel that yon are indebted to him. Do not quarrel with
Um,for inlhat case he will revenge himaelfnponJalian.'*
** Is not Julian's fortune secured? "
" Tea, if all the oondiiiooa of the agreemoat are ob*
osrved, bat I should deceive yon if I ai&rmed that M.
Aalolue is nwara of your refuaal to aeoept your part of
Ibam."
** (Ml, MON Dun / Uarcel, into what a altaation hara
yoa bronght me I In yonr blind darotion to practical
' maUers, your obstinate detarBunatioo to save me flma
poverty, yon have disgraced me I This man believes that
I have sold my heart, — that bo has boaght it with bis -
money, and Jaliea, ^ ba also must snppoaa that Z have
betrayed my love for wealth 1 Ah, it would bare bean
batter if you bad killed OM I I foel lo-day distinetly that
I enanot aodnra sneh » lift a^y loogar, — tbat I mast
diel"
ANTONIA. sat ■
Jd11«, who hftd DDt wept for a, long time, sobbed as if
her heart wonM break. Marcel preferred to see her erea
thnt) rather than changed into a atatoo. Hoping that the
COnsequeDCca of n violent criais would bo farorablo, ho
resolutely provoked one.
" Reproach mc, curse mc, if yon choose," ho said,
" but I did it for Juliea's nakc."
*< That ia true," replied Julie, "and I was wrong to
find fault with you. You feci sure, theo, if I should
offend H. AntoiQc by refusing his ofier, that all ho baa '
done for Julien will become a matlor of uncertainty again ?"
** Undonbtedly ; and, what is more, lie would ImTo
jnilieo 00 bis side. Ho is beginning to make me uneasy,
— ao impatient is lie becoming to have you proclaim his
merits, and cease being ashamed of accepting his kind-
ness. Yon moat drink the cup ; it must be done, for the
lore of Jnlien, — if indeed, as I suppose, that lovo still
exists."
"Do not say noytliing about that. I will drink it to
the very Icoa. But how aro wo to cxpleia to the world
tho generosity wilh which I am treated? To what mo-
tire will it bo attributed? People will think I have beea
paying court to lliis oldman, — that I have fascinated him
by Bomo discredirablc coquetry. Perhaps they will say
even worse 1 "
" Yes, madam," said Itlarcel, who wished to make one
decisive experiment, in order to ascertain Julie'a senti-
ments. "£vil speakers will eny oil that ; and I do not
see, now, how to prevent it. Wo will try ; but, if it can-
not bo done, will your devotion to Julien enable you to
endure even this?"
" Yes," said Madam d'Estrello ; " I will endure to the
end. Tbero is something to sign, is there not?"
And she thought lo herself, —
" Aflorwards, 1 will kill myaclf."
" You will not have any new engagements to make,"
said Marcel ; " but it will bo necessary for you to recciva
M. Antoine, and thank him. I am absolutely certaitt
that he will make Julien's fortune, if you will consent to
•ome sort of roconciliation."
" Go and brio;; M. Aatoioe," Bsid Julie. " I will kill
BiTMlf to-night," aho said to horsolf, wheo Marcol bad
gooe.
Dcfpoir had so iotcosidod Julie's Ioto, tbat she was no
longer capable of roasoniag calmly. Sbe bad accepted
tbe fate of a mnrljrr, and a martyr's onthusiasm was the
only reeling that still bonnd ber to life.
She wrote to Julicn :
" Hero is the key of the pavilion. Como at mid-
oight ; you will find me there. I am going a long jour-
ney, and want to bid you an eternal faro well."
This letter, with the key enclosed in it, sbe sealed, and
gave to tbo most trustworthy of her servants ; ordering
him to take a hersc, (o ride as fast as possible to Sevres,
and bring her an answer. It was now five o'clock in the
afternoon.
While waiting for AI. Antoine, ehe went out into tbo
gardeo, and paused by the edge of tho little lake. It was
not deep, but, if she chose to lie down in it, would an-
swer her purpose I One who really wishes to die, can
always do it. The thought of suicide, which had tempted
Joiien eo violently a few days before, filled ber mind with
m frightful traaquiUity.
" Nobody on earth cares for mo except him," she said
to herself; " and, as I cannot be his, I owe no obligations
to any one else. An iofemal hatred seized and stran-
gled me in the very bloom of my life, — in (he very bloom
of my happiness. Not satisfied with robbing mo of my
love and my liberty, they want to rob'me of my honor as
well. Marcel said so ; I must bo supposed to be the mis-
tress of this odious old man. Ah 1 if Julicn knew tbat,
what a horror be would feel of the comfort which hii
mother is eiyoyiog 1 And if she should suspect it herself 1
— They shall never know it ; I will make that sure ; my
death shall appear to be an accident. When I am out
of the way, ibcro will bo bo excuse for changing tho eon-
tnoL Juiiaa will b« rieh mod lwaw«d, and n^wdy will
«T«r fiMM at iriurt a coat."
Tmb iha maMdMnd, OSM mora, tbat It mtadw^
ANTOKIA. U}
Jolien ud hsnolf to bruk all thaw dudot, aad nuunrj in
•piM of poverty.
*'i*arbapi be would ba luippior m,* ilwwld; '*pai^
bapa mj socriflciDg myself will be only » mUbitiiM to
him. Bat wbo crd tell bow for U. Antoine'e hate would
GuTjr him I Ad irritable lunatic ia capobk of aiiTthiii^
He might have him awqgii n a tad . Hot he not Meret -
agent*, epies, brigands, at hie Hrrice? "
Bewildered, she walked obont the little lake, oa if iin>
patiently waiting the hour of hor death. Thon, romom*
buring that she woa to see Julian again, a wild longing fbr
Ufa seized her, and her heart boot oa If it would braaJb
She felt DO ramorso, and not evoo a consdantiona acmpla
at violating an engagement forced from hor by ths moat
cruel moral violence.
" One who is going to die," sho sud to heraelf, " haa
a right to protest, before God, ngainit the iniquity f>f her
tormentors."
A violent reaction, like the ' ebullition of a quiet loka
below which a volcano has suddenly broken out, or the
sudden flashlag up of an expiring flame, transformed her
eweet, yielding nature, and gave her, for the momeoti ax-
Iroordinary strength.
She saw M. Antoine approacbiog with Uorcel, oad aoC
down mechanically upon a stone bench, to receive tham.
It was there that she had sat with the old man three montha
before, when he had made her the strange and ridicnlona
proposition whoso rejection hod cost her so dear.
As on that day, she heard a rustling among the leaves,
and saw the sparrow that Julicn hod tomod fluttering its
wings, and seeming to hesitate whether to perch od her
shoulder. The little crooturo hod bccomo rather wild
again. "When Julion moved from the pavilion, it w«a
nowhere in sight, and he hnd leA it, hoping that Julio,
whoso long absence he had not foreseen, would be plaoaod
to find it thoro. Since hor return, she hod scon it several
times, not very far off, friendly, and yet mistrustful, but
hod tried in vaiu to coax it to come nearer. This tima
it allowed itaelf to b« caught, and sba was holdiog it in
bar hand wbao M. Antwna joined Iwr.
114 ANTON/A.
She amtled, and bado hint good-day with a wild cxprca*
■ioD, and ]io addressed hor without knowing what ho
•aid ; for, id spilo of liia l/rannicul disposition, bo could
Dot ixioquer liis bashfulncss ol first mooliag anjr one. Aflor
hia moment of incorrigiblo Btammering, he could find
nothing better to say ibaa this :
"Well, von still bavoyour lamfl sparrow, I ace?"
"It is JuUeo's spoiTow, and I lovo it," replied Julie.
** Do 70U want to kill it? Here it is."
The way in wbicb she said this, her death'liko pale-
oesSf nod the sort of fierce indifference with which she
held out the poor tililo bird, nil warm with her kisses,
mode a great impression upon M. Antoine. He looked
at Marcel, OS if to ask, " Is she crazy?" and instead of
twisting the sparrow's neck, as he would have readily
done throe months before, bo pushed if away, saying,
awkwardly, —
** No matter I keep it. It will not do aoy barm."
" You are so kind 1 " said Julio, in iho same Cry, fevoi^
ish way. " Vou liavo como to rocoiro my tbonks, havo
you Qot ? You are awnro that I accept ovorythiog ; that
I am very linppy ; tliat I no longer lo?o anytbiog nor any*
body I thatyou have douo roo a vary great sorricc, and
' can say to Cod every nigbl, ' I have boea good and groat,
H You are Yourself.' "
M. Anloino stood with his mouth open ; too subtle to
believe that Uodam d'EstrclIo meant what she said, and
jet too coarso to understand lior, ho was uncertain
whether she iatondod to thank him or to lungh at him.
'* She dollcs mo to my face," bo said osido I« Marcel \
*' you rascal, you have fooled mo I "
" No, undo," onsworod Marcot, aloud ( ■* the oountosa
thanks you. But abo is vory ill, as you can loe. Do not
require bor to talk any longer."
Marcel hod calculated that the alteration ia Jolie'a ap*
peoronce would moke an imprestios upon SL Anloioe, —
nd it did mak« a Tirid om. H* gued at her with •
■trug* Ofnuioa, at oooa itiipU, enel, and tistid, *od
nid to UmMir, with » J07 not ouiiigled with t«mr,
•*TbitiiH]rdolif."
AITTONIA.
»»5
M Uadwa," he said, Aftor hMitating a moment, ** I lud
I would bo nrflDgod od yoa \ that Z would malco jroo uk
mj pordOQ for your oneoou. An 70a wilUiig to snd
ths whole nuiUar b/ oooftwing that 700 won ia the
WTODg? TbaX is aII I require."
" What wrong bare I done?" seid Julie; "exidainit
to me, K> that I may confess it."
Aotoina was voir much at a loes for oa answer ; oodt
OS always happenod with him when he oonld find nothing
•ensible to say, hit anger, — which he bod olinoat for>
gotten, — anddeiily rerived.
"Ah I Ton tUnk yon hare done nothing to oShnd
me I " he said ; " very well, mordi I Ton most ask my
pardon fairly and squurdy, or I will have satisfoetion out
of Julien."
" Must I ask your pardon on my knees ? " asked Jalie,
with a sort of wrrowful haashtiocss in her tone.
"Well, what if I do roquiro it?" answered (he old
man, diity with aogor, and still thinklni; liimsolf defied.
"So bo It, — have yonrwillI''said Madam d'Estrelle,
^and she kuolt boforo him.
This was the crowning act of her- martjTdom, — the
public expiation oxiortod from tho innooont rictira, as ho .
stands with lialtor on neck and torch in hand, before
mounliDg tho pile. In this moment of subline self-
immolation her troubled soul suddenly became calm, —
her couDionoQce was transfigured, — she smiled tho
ecstatic smile of a saint, and hor eyes shone with oq
fnofTablo sweetness, as if heaven hod opened and wu
reflected there.
Antoino could sot understand this suddea oliango, and
it startled him. Ilis anger eoosod, — not beeanso hia
boart was softened, but under tho influence of a fealinf
of snporstitious terror.
•• Very good," he said, •' I em satisfied, and I pardon
JTalien. Adieu 1 "
He tnmod and fled.
Marcel paused for a moment to say a few encouraging
words to Julie, ^ which she did not hoar, or did not try
to uoderstOQd, — and then hastened after M. Antoine.
S96 ANTOHIA.
** Kdw, mj good mdo," h* lud, Id a bolder and
■hsipsr tOM tluui hehad7«tM>iiiiMdtobim, "Tououg^t
rallf to b« HtUfied; 70a bara Idllod Madam d*£a-
tnllal"
** Killed her ? " uid tmde Antoine, toroiog abort apoa
■liiQ. "Wbat pieea of itapiditr ia tbat?"
" The atupidiu would be in thinking b«r jcj and grat*
tude nneen. Too cannot be rach a fooL Tliat woman
rate ; aha ii d^ing of eorrow."
a desperate
"Ton lie
angry, and the annorancet I
of lata have made ner ill with Texation. Bat she ia
aatiified, at laat, that it wai all for the beat; she
polls at the bit, bat she knows I am aaring her ia spite
of henelf."
" You are saTing bor from the chances of the (btnre, ^
that is pnfecdj true ; and 70U am taking the aorwt way
to do itj — by depriving her of life,"
" Pshaw I That's anothor anbtarfoge I She caught
cold spending the nights ia the gardon with bar lover;
and ibe found it extramoly tiraaomo in the coDveut of
Chaillotf and still more so fa that old barrack at Nan*
terra, where aho was absolutely cdone. Yoa soe she
•ought la Tain to conceal herself, — I know eveiy place
she boa been in. I have not once lost track of hor.
YoD oaa't dieat me 1 I saw the convent physieian ; he
told me that she was iadined to melancholy by bar tem-
perament, and bad no serions ailment. Z saw bar doctor
in Paris, and be said be could not understand anything
about bar ilbess. Tie devil I if it bad been anything
■ariont ba would have known what it was well aaoagb.
Yat my port, I know wbat it is t she has bad a disap>
poIntoMnL That doesn't lull people, and I guorantea
tbat sha Is going to got welL"
" And I guarantee," said Marooli " that if she Is left
to tba despair into which yoa have plunged bar for as-
other weak, she will ba idat beyond roooveTy."
**Fbol Than sha ia voiy much in love with tha
dauber? And Is ha thinking about her tooT **
**' JiUaa ia u Ql ■• aha, lid in a ooaditioaof mind qpIlA
ANTOVIA. SS7
■I aluiiuDg. I took pftiiu to NtUfy mjielf npoo lUt
point, ftud aaccoeded in d<Hng to widt k gnat dasl of
difficnltj, for he ia not a mui to complua. A» tar hn, T
luTB not been able to Duke her apeu » single word for
two monlh*. To-da^, I undertook to pnah her to tht
lut extremity ; — I eucceoded, sod' from thie 6mj I Iuits
nude up tay mind u to mjr own course."
"Yoor course? What do jrou mekn? What are 70a
going to do?"
*' To destroy a conple of papers that I hare in mj
pocket,^ the roleaeo with which jron intnulod ma tat
Madam d'Estrelle, and her promise noTer to see Julian
sgain,— which I have never delivered tojrou. Yoa botk
of 70U put jourselves into my hands when yon oathoiiMd
me to exchange those reciprocal obligations. I shall pUco
you on an equal footing bj dcatrojiag them both. Then
the whole affair must be begun over again, and, as I am
aware of the iDtoutions of both parties, I docluo to joa
that Madam d'lCatrolIe will accept nothing from jou, and
that 70U may take poRSCSsion of all her property at once.
Up to this time, she has followed my advice implicitly ;
and, as I don't wish to see her die, 1 nhall advise her to
retract all that she has thus for asrood to."
" Why, you abominable scoundrol 1 " cried M. ADtotao,
stopping short in Ibo middle of the Btrcet, and speaking in
a loud voice, " I don't know why I don't broak my stick
over your shoulder I "
*' A acouudrel, when I return you all yonr mono/, and
reserve to my client only the right of living in poverty?
If that is so, go and bring a anit against mo, carry the
affair into court, and cover yourself with ridicala and
disgrace I "
" But, JulioD I I have mode Julian rich, you raaeaL
I auspcctod as much all along I You have oxtortod (torn
EM — "
"Kotliing at all I Julian lioa boon seriously ill Cot
•ovoral days, and is so still. I hinted to his molhor lUo
true atate of the cose, and she answered, ' Give oil tha
propemr bock to M. Antoine, and lot Julie bo roatorod to
tifl.' 10a see, therefore, that you do sot lose one pmaj.
asS AifTomA.
You vrill recover priacipal and loMrost, und wo shall bo
at libertjr lo live aa wo chooao, wilhout beiog bound by
•nj eiipulaiioQ, legal or private."
"Wby, j-oQ miscrnblo wMtcIi, you aro complotoly
bockiujouil I tliouglit you woro n rcasouablo mnii.
You took myviowoftho matter entire!/; you disap-
proved of ilio morriogo, aad were belping mo ostabliab
them comfortably."
" Yes, until I »aw that ibia comfort wat going to carry
them straight into their graves."
" They oro a parcel of fools."
" Yes, uncle, tlicy arc : love is nothing but fooIisliDCSS ;
but when it is incurable, wo must yield to it ; for my
part, I yield."
" Very well," replied M. Antoine, pounilisg his three*
cornered hat down over his eyes with a desperate blow
of the &sL *' Go and order that lady lo clear out of her
house, -^ that is, out of roy bouse, — this iostaat. I
■hall go to Sevres, and turn the others out myself. If every
one of them is not in the street within two hours, I'll
Hnd sberitTs* oOicers, policemen ^ I'll set tba buildings
OB fire — I'll — "
By this tima he was niooing so fast that bis foolisb
threats could no longer ba heard. Leaving Marcel in the
Biroet, he rushed into his bouse, a capital caricature, al-
though be did not kaow it, of Orestes pursued by the
furies. Marcel followed quiotly, without allowiag him-
■elf to ba alara3od,and forced his way in, although orders
bad been already given that tlie master was not at
home. He hod rcs^ved to fight his way in, hod it boon
necessary.
" You are going toSAvres, oroyoa?" bobegoo; 'TU
go with you."
"As you please." said uncle Antoine, gloomily,
*' Bave you nolided Madam JuUe to vacate mi/ hotel 7 "
** Ym, I hart," said Ifareel, wbo saw that tlw old
nut wa> unmiihitilj bnriilii ti'Mf [f, ttA bad no idM how
•hort • tima had alaptad alBM tiiair ftUaraatioa in tiw
MfMk
"ItakajMUiV^? WIDibtouiyoff— f "
AUTOHIA. sa9
"Kotbiag," Mid Maroel; **ilu Isatw •▼«7tUi^
AraYOKoing >o Sdvroa? Havo Toa ordond keoub?"
" Mf oonrod vragoa Kid wonrhono will go flutar.
Tho7 oro linniouins."
Ilo Bat down OD Iho cornor of a tabic, aod renuunad
plungod JD b» own rofloctions. Uucol, who luid delar-
miDod not to loao usht of liim, Mt down oppoMt*; he
feared for hit roaWD, and woi also apprakoiuivo that hii
rage would soggeit Bom« diabolical trick to him bywhidi
hit friuods would bo vietimiiod. Wbon thoj itaTted, it
wsa Mvan o'clock in the cveniog. Uorcol wu tlio flnt
to break the silcnoe.
"What ore wogobgtodo atSiTru?" ka o^d.
" You will MO," annwered U. Aotoinc
After quarter of an hour, Marcel ipoke again :.
" It will do no good for ^n to go there. Tha papm
ore nt zaj office. All ibat is oeceBsarf is to dcatroj tbenit
and I give you notice that I will not permit you to make
an absurd scene with my aunL She is in trouble, and
Julian is verj ill, as I told jron."
" And f ou lied like a dog ! " replied U. Antoioe ; " saa
there 1"
Uo pointed to a hired cabriolet that wa«* just pasaio;
them. In it sat Julian, pais and haggard, dorklj £rowo>
ing, and with an abstracted but determined oxpression.
He had roccired Julie's note, had forced himself to rise,
and, desiring to question Morcol before keeping his
appoinlmeot, was on his way to Paris in good seosoD.
" If it is with him that you wish to spoak," said Mar*
eel, "lot us turn bock. I wugor anything that he b
going to my house,"
"I don't wont to speak to him," answered M. AnIolBe
ironically, "since ha is dving."
" Did you think ho looked well?" naked Moroel.
M. Antoino nlapsed into his sinister silonce, and they
drove on in the direction of Sevres. Did he really know
what Lo meant to do there? To confess tho truth, lie
bad not the least idea. His miod was in a terribly
oonfiised state, and ho was thinking idwut thia £Mt,
> ajo
ANTOmA.
uid tiiis alone, for be resU/ began to be alarmed about
bimself.
" After all " ho thought, " I slmll be the siclcest of the
three, if I don't take care. Anger is a good thing, il
keeps a man alive, and strengthens him in his old age ;
an old man who allows others to manage him is dono
for. Still, one must not indulge in too much at a time ;
I must be more quiet."
And upon this, with a power of will that would have
made him a remarkable man, if ho had possessed bettor
teadcDcies, or had been better directed in life, ho resolved
to lake a nap, and actually slept quietly until the wagoa
began to rumble over the pavements of Sevres.
Marcel liod been tempted to try and turn back without
his uncle's knowing it, but it was a question whether
M. Antoine's servant would obey him ; and, in any ovont,
since Julicn was out of the way, was it not the best plan
to wait and see what M. Antoine would have to say to
Modnm Thierry? lie was a good deal afraid of her.
Would ho dare tell bor to ber face that bo took buck all
he bad given ?
Sleep restored M. Antoine to himself, — that is, to bis
chronic condition of deliberate aversions, jealous self-love,
suid brooding rcsonlmont. They found Madnm Thierry
itaadiog before a beautiful portrait of licr husband, as
if she had hoped, by gnsing upon the serene and cheer-
ful countenance, to mspiro herself with the confidence in
the future that had always eharaclerized that charming
man. Marcel bad but just time to step in first, and
iram ber briefly :
" M. Antoine Is close at my heels," b« said. *' He is
fnrious ; but, with patience and firmness, yoD may still
be able to save everything."
"JToniHeu/ What sbaU I say?"
*' Tell him that you resign all bis gifts, but that jo\i
mx* grateful to him for them. Julio adores JnUea.
Ereiything depends on my uncle, — he is coming."
" Shall you leave mo alone wiib him ? "
" Yes, be iosisu upon it ; but I will stay close by, and
te 2«a4y to iatwyoto, if momutj,"
AlfTVjriA. igt
H« 'ittppad qoi^j into % liula cabinet, and, kaving
the door ^ar, sat dowo and liaUned. If. AnhMna eama
ioto the drawing-room \>j the other door. H« waa leaa
timid now that ha no tongar ielt Hareal'a aemtinuing aja
faatened npon him.
" Your aervuit, Madam Andri," be aaid, aa ba CMiia
in; "arojou alone?"
Madam Thierry roio, aonrered (bat aha ma, utd
politely invited bim to ait down.
Her face also was greatly altered. Sba bad baaa
watching with her son for ssTeral nights ; and now that
be hod riwn and departed in spite of her rnmnnitrannna,
•he foU that the great crisis of his life dratu waa mum.
" Is your son ill ? " asked U. *""*■"■ i
" Yes, monsieur."
" Seriously? "
" God graat that he wilt rooOTar,*
"Ishe inbod?"
"He bos just got up."
"Could I see him?"
" He has gone out, monsieur."
"Then he is not so very ill?"
** Ho was extremely so until last ni^t; aiiiea than h*
has boon a littlo better."
*' What was the matter ? "
"Fovcr and delirium."
" A sunstroke ? "
"No, monsieur."
" Trouble, porhops?"
" Yes, monsieur ; great trouble,'*
" Because he is in ]an ? "
** Yes, monsieur."
" But it is a silly buiinoss, to bo in lore, when ba
might bo rich."
"That canaot bo reasoned about, n '
" No, I did not."
"If you will send your sou to Amoriea, I will fliniab
binwitb a handsome capital, I will directbia opantioaa,
»3»
ASTONIA.
KoA in tea j^n ha will oom« boma wilh mi Ioooim of
tbirtr UuHuud fraocs."
" Oa whKt conditions, monsienr? *
"Tlwt 1m bids fftrewell to n eertdo Iwlj of ov w
qnaialaaco ; nothiog mora than that."
**Aiidif hararnsu?"
" If ha rafiiiet, — and that is what I axpact, tw I
hav* tM«D adviaed that it ia likalT-, — la that aTeotMi
agroemant antarad iato between a mtida lady and my-
Mf reapecting him becomes anil and void."
" "taj good, monsienr ; I nnderatand. Yon bare the
to do irtiat 70a ehooBB with Toar own, and wa
right
awimi
" Bnt 70a might renst, if 70a choaa. Yoa ware not
eonsnlted about Mcepting mj gifU ; voa did not know
of the conditions agraed npon bj Hadam d'Eatrelle
and myself. There is safflcient groand for a lawsnit,
and I shall be rerj likelj to lose u, if mj (^>poneDta act
in bad faith."
** If by Toor opponeou 70a moan my son and myself,
make yonraelf porfectly easy, monsieiir. Wo sarraodar
TOOT benefaetiMts withoat any hesitation whatever."
"Ah, yea, my benefactions 1 They an burdeuoma to
yoa ; ym are ashamed of them."
** As long aa we did not know thkt they restrained the
liberty of one who is dear to as, we were not ashamed
of them; and «Teii, — yon may be assored," oontinoed
Jladam TUerry, tnakiDg a great effi»t (or her son's sake,
**wewen graUfol to yon [ — If wa had been certtun that
wa owed tUa generosity to yoor solidUide for oar welfare,
wa ahonld han blessed yoar name. But whatsTar cansed
yoar kinilinni| and howerer abcvt its daration, it has
made ns bi^i^, notwithstanding oar tioables aad aax>
iatiss, to sea ws house again, and to find ouiielTes in tha
nidst of our dearest raeoUaotioos. Yon order ns to
laar* It, and wa shall obey ; bat I want to thank yoa fbr
■^eelf— "
M Yon, madam I" said Antoine, ktoking steadily at her.
** Yea, — to thank yoa fbr the two months that yon
Wm allMnd w to stay hsn. Th» tboaght of oonr x*>
ANTONIA. S33
taming to mj home wm tlmm diitwiiii^ to mat
heDcoTorth it will be leu so; X ibell nmember Ihii
■hoit TJait u A last beAniifal dmm caating a gleam of
•muhino over m; life, and wliich I owe to 700."
Madam Thierry had an agreeable voice and a peca>
liarly refiood accent, wbieli were extremely attraetin>
In his fits of anger, M. Antoiae was ia tho habit of CiQ>
f ng her *' The flno-flpokoo lad^." Ho folt, novoitbdeM,
tho ioflocncc of this tweet voice, still frrah and pnn,
caressing his ear with kind and almost roverontial vrords.
Be did not understand the dolicacj of her ■entimenti,
hot he saw that she seemed hnmblo and subininivo ; and
this it was that he so eagerly craved.
" Come, Uadam Andn," ho said, in the gruff manntf
which bo was accustomed to assume when his anger be-
gan to be dissipated, " 70U know how to say exactly what
you want, but confess that in your heart you can't abide
" I hate nobody, monsioar \ but yon oblige nw to con-
fess that I am afraid of you 1 "
Nothing could have been shrewder than this answer.
To inspiro fear was, according to M. Antoine, the highest
attribute of power. Wonderfully softened, he said, ia a
tone that was almost good-oaturod, —
"And what the devil makes you so ofrud of me?"
Madam Andri possessed the penetration peculiar to
women who have lived much in society, and the tact of a
mother arguing the cause of her child. Seeing how
important an odvaatage she had gained, she proceeded to
forgot, — very opportunely, under tho circumstances,^
that she was sixty years old, and courageously decided to
be a little coquettish, although M. Antoine was a man
with whom it was dangerous to be too condescendiog.
" Brother," said she, "it was your fault if you did BOt
retain my ccmfldeuce. I do not reproach you with having
betrayed it, for your intentions were good, and it was I
who did not nnderstand them. I was very young, and
my unhappy position made me peculiarly sensitivs. Ut>
teriylnsxperienosd, I thought you were trying to paiMada -
mt to abaadoa Andr^ whan— "
4jf AirroiriA.
** Wbra, in rMlitft I was Ulling jon in good fidth to
wnhim."
** Tm, 70a vara setiDg oat of Rflbetion tot bitn. I wu
bSsd, olMtinaU, — wlu^rer yon ehooM; bntTonmtut
cooliMf tlwt it WM your pUco to orariook mj My, You
00^ to have tnatod me liko tbo child that I waa, and to
hava beeoma my brotber again, as baTore."
**Yoa want nta toooDTawall that, do yon? Bnt yon
alwaya tnalad w» bangblily aflarwards — "
"Why didn't yon langh at my hangbtineBi? Why
didi^t yoa tak^uM by the tutod, and say, ' Sistar.yon an
• little gooaa. Emlwaoa um, and let bypMiea be bygones.'
That* s what yon onght to have done.
*• What I Ton think I ought— "
" Tbe moit reaaoDable is tindar an obligation to be iha
aost ganerons."
** And would yoa like matters arranged on that footing
now?""
" It is narer loo lata to nnderstand each other, and to
bring bade kind feelings that sbonld asvar ban beso cast
•side."
"Well, then, are yoo sorry now to think that yon
wooaded me?"
" I am sorry, and I ask yoor pardon. Will yon grant
it?" ■
"Ab, diaMtn I That is a difioreat thing, my dear
ladyl Ton are in want of me nowj — yon want my
bslpl*
"Tea, M. Antoine, I do. Hy son is orasy with grief.
IbnT lum to tbe woman ha Ions."
** Ah, there too are again I " cried U. Antoine, flasb*
ing ont in anotner burst of rage.
" It is where we began," annrered Uadam Thieny ;
**IhaTeasked but one thing of yon since yon came hen,
— firaadom of aetioa fbr Uadam d'Estnlla."
*' Yes, and plenty of money berides, for eTarybody."
" No, no money ; nothing at all I I told yoa we wen
randy to resign yoor pnpartr. If you wiU allow ns to
TSM this hooas of yoa, we will live lisra, and pay yoa tka
wt,withplas tar ». If yoa n(lua,ii% wufc w>!iaiA.te
ANTONM. aj^
Tonr will. But let at ^"^9"^ without •agar, and fbr-
giva lu for beiDg hi4>P7 i lor, if our Iwutt an onlj wH^
uAed with each other, aad if we caa oalj feel that our
bappiDeaa does not annoy jron, we ahall be ao in apita of
our trialfl and priratione."
li. Anloine was oonqtiered. Ashamed, he eaagiit at
* laat twig of argoment :
"Howprond jou arel" he said; "it is alwaya the
same thing, and you are aU alike I if on have a contempt
for iho rich man's money I Yoa despise it I ' Take it
back again,' yoa say ; ' we don't want any of it ; wo
have no need of it ; we can lira on the air I Wlwt is
money, after all? If era pebbles, to an intelligent mind I '
And yet, my dear madam, money honestly earned by a
man who began life with nothing but his wits, ought to
be of soma account ! It is iho honey of a working bee ;
it is a tropical flower, mode to bloom in an artificial cli-
mate by the patienco aad skill of the master gardener.
And you think it is worth nothing? With all bis genius,
my poor brother know no better than to spend what ho
worked like a drudge to obtain. I have a better way of
neing my money ; I keep it ; I increase it every day,
and I make people happy with it when I choose."
"But what an you coming at, M. Antoine?" asked
Madam Thierry, to whom Marcel, through the door bo-
bind the horticulturist, was making signs which she did
not understand.
" This is what I am coming at : that you are not ao
good a mother as you Imagine. Yoa are very willing to
eacrifico everything else for your son, except your onn-
tempt for the money I have given yon. I believe you
think I stolo my fortune ; I bdieve yon think my money
has a had smell."
" But for heaven's sake why do you say that? What
makes you suppose that I esteem you less than yon d»-
■erve?"
" Because if you roaQy were a good mother, instead of
talking soch nonsense as that, you would aay, * Brother,
we are unfortnnate, and yon are rich ; you can save at.
Wc «n A Uttla fitoUtb fiw wishing to pay eoort to HidMn
SjS ASTONiA.
'dTEstnlla, bnt that ii no nuon why jaa ahonld !»▼« na
witbont bread, Ardoa na altogether, and once for all I
Let w hava the privilege of loriog and of eating too ; if
TOUT goodneea hamiliatea na, ao mach the worse for na.
W« know that ran ar« a great man, — a magsiftcent
' nan ; joa will take pitr on na, and grant all that we ask I '
Tbera, Madam Andre, that ia what yon wonld say, —
that ia what yoa wonld beg on yonr knees, if necessary,
if yon were really a good mother, instead of bebg a lady
of rank."
T^f^^f"! Thierry waa mate with astonishment. She
lookod at llar«el, who, witbont being seen by M. An*
toine, was energetically telegraphing to her, 1^ geatora
Mtd pantomime, to yield (o the old capitaliat's fancy. Tha
poor lady felt a moat painful reluctance, yet she did not
beaiiate ; eh« glided down Arom hor chair to her footstool,
■ltd kneeling uioro, took both of H. Antoine's bands.
** Yon are right, brother," aho aoid, *' I onght to do as
yon saj. X jriold. Be the nobhiat of man ; pardon all ;
IJtensalll'*
" Ton bava done ft at last, (hen I And jnat in time I "
eried H. Antolne, raiaing hor; "and when people are
reeooeiled ther embrace, don't they ? "
Madam Thienj embraced M. Antoine, and Marcel en-
teredjnatin aeaaon to appUnd.
" There, now, Mr. Pettifogger," aaid the amiOenr gar>
dener, '* a pretty Agnre yon ent I A fine plan of opposi-
tion jon bad I Yon wore going to break and smash up
•nrything, to fling your client and your family iota poV>
arty, and all for tbe sake of not aorTMdering to a ridi man,
—a poweifol man, — the natural enemy of poor people,
aodofthoaewbodcm'tknowbowtomakemoneyl A fine
lawyer you are, npon my w<m4 I a lawyer who can secnre
yottr clients notbmg bat Ion and irj bread I Lnckily,
tba woooaa hare more sense. Here are two of them who
have been wishing me at the daril, and both of them
hara gone down on th^ kneea to me this very eveniog !
Wen, sister, this doses the whole maUer. I will never
" it to TOBf mind, fbr Z am a generona man ; and,
r ' - BM,X kaow Iwii la wwwA. ^^Mim.
UutOTOBr mio
> paOfM Mtiify
AKTONIA.
»37
Tour loa shall many tlw pntt7 coojUom. I miut torn
her out of h«r houM to ke«p poopla from laUun^, bat
I will giva Julian tho Lotal d'EattvOa, and wn incoma
of twaoly'^Te thouiand francs, aa « marriage portion.
That's the way I do things I I know tbit woU that ytn
have beea acting to-daj oat of policj, — I haren't baon
fooled aa lo that, — and that ^ on will thank me to-morrow,
once for all, and fbrget everything. But no nutter ; job
hare done aa I viahed, — jrou have aabmitted, and I Mk
" We will gire jaa a great deal more," replied 2
Thierry, " for tou will not bo able to refuae the of
of warm and aincore hearta. 'Yon will oxperionco • bi^
pinesa that rou ought to have known before, bnt we wiU
try and make up for lost time."
" Oh, that's all talk," aaid &I. Antoine ; " happiness
is in boiog your own master, and I don't want any ono's
help to mnka mo that, I don't llko brala and senti-
moatality. I novor was meant for tho father of a family;
but, if I bod boon bom n king, I should havo governed
jny people excollontly. To command has always bees •
favorite idea of mine ; and I reign over the kingdom I
have, a groat deal bottsr tlian plenty of monarchs, who
don't know what they are about."
In spite of her anxiety as to what might be the reason
of Julion's absence, and her desire to sood Marcel to find
him, Madam Thierry felt obliged to invite U. Antoine to
•upper.
" Ob 1 " bo said, ** for my part, my supper consists of a
crust of hard bread and a gloss of cheap wine. That ia
my way ; I never cored much for eating."
What he wanted was sot before him, and when he bad
supped, Marcel hoatened his departure.
" I am sure," he said to bis aunt, " that Julien is wait-
ing for me at my house. He ia probably impotient be-
cause I do not return ; bnt my wife will try nud moke
him comfortable, Julio will amuse him, and if he abould
fool worse, you can depend upon it he will be well eared
for."
Jnlien was, in &ot, exoessirelj impatient, notwitbataad-
938 ANTOSIA.
lof «II UidunllftTcel'a can RodkUentioa. Feeling rerj
weak when bo reached Ibe houee, he had attempted to
eiU a little, and to cQiartaia himwif with the prattle of liia
little godsoa ; but when he heard the elock gtrike eleren,
aod sair that Mareel did not retara, he could no longer
eodore hie mortal nuponae. Sajriag that hia mother
woald be nsoaa; if he did not retnm by miduight, and
promiting to take a carriago to Sirros, he deparUid. In
tact, be ^oceoded on foot, and br a roandabout waj, to the
nw do Batnrlone ; ho thought It necoasai/ to take oreir
pracantioD in order to gnM^d agalnat being teen and fot
lowed, as before, bj lonM of U. Antoino'i agonta. Ho
arrired, bowerer, lafely, and without attracting kkj ob-
Mmlion. M. Antoina bad maintained his eapionago
vpoa Julie long eoongfa to be quite certain that she and
Julian nerer met, and then had gireo it up.
Aa it atnck twelve, Julien entered the poTiIioo and
fiHiDd Jblie Ibere ; be bad been waiting outaide the door,
and she inside of it, for qnaitor of an honr.
At this vary moment, Marcel, If. Anioioe, and Madou
Thierry ware entering Fans ou their retom from Sdrres.
U. Antoine's frugal auppor, and hia not rerj entertaining
oonreiMtion, bad exhauatad the widow'a patience. She
was anxiooa about her bos, and insisted upon having a
eeat in the wogoo, ao that abe might join him at Maroel's
booae.
Jalien, befbre meeting Julie, had armed bimaalf with
aD bia coormge. Ho waa expecting a paiafbl explaoa-
tioo, and bad sworn to bmiaelf to show do anger, to
utter DO reproaches, to betray do weakneis ; and yet, aa
ha opeoed the door, hia baud shook I'orerwhelDied by a
andden paaai<m of fiiiy aad deapair, be heaitated, and
drew balck ; but, on aeeing faim, Julie uttered a wild cry
of joy, throw her arms about Ua neck, and preaaed him
paaaionalely to her heart. It was so dark that neither
of them eooU aoa bow changed the other waa. Their
bumiag kiasee made them forget the fever raging in
their veina. The fever of lore, which revivifiea, waa
vidoriooa over that which dealroys.
JaUaa waa the fliat to neovar Aon tUa aaoaneat of
AltTOIflA. «39
dolinum. AIarm«d, ntbor tiiaa inl « dc*ted IffJnlVa
carcucs, ha inddeDly repaliod hor.
"Ifjroa still Ion ma," ha Mud, "bow can 70V ooDMit
to laave ma f
" Boh I ** she auwared, " it if not, portwpa, toe ao
loDg."
"Yoa wrota that 70a wantad to bid ma an alanwl
farawell I **
" I do not know what I wrota ; I waa out of mj aanaoi.
But it n not poaiiblo for thoM who bvo oi wa do to part
forovor."
" It ia tmo thou that 7DU ara gtnng awaj?— And will
jron comeback?"
"Yea, — if lean. Bnt do not talk abont tbaL To-
night is our own ; giva it all to lovo."
Amid thair transports of happiness. Julian waa agaia
Beized with torror. In the passionate words that ascapod
' Julio there waa a mjraterious gloom, — n Muister for^
boding, which soemod to freeze the blood in his reiiis.
"What is tha matter with you? " ho cried sudtlonlj.
" You are deceiving me. Either 70U are going awajr,
or you think you nro going to die I You oro ill ; I
know you arc ; — the physicians baTe giron joa np,
perhaps."
" No, I giva you my word that they promiso to cnra
mo."
" Lot mo see your face I I cannot seo you ; lot tia go
out from hero. I am afraid I It scoms to mo, at mo*
mcnts, that I nm dreaming, and that it is only your ghost
I am holding in jaj arms."
IIo carried her into tho garden, but it was aknost ft*
dork llicro as in the paTJlioc.
" ifon Dieu / I do not seo yon ; I cannot sea yonr
fhco at all," cried Julion, devonrad with anxiety. " loor
arms have grown tliin, — yon are wasted away. Vou
are like a shadow ; it saems to mo that your foot do not
toiicli tho ground. Tell mo ; ore yon a dream? Am I
here, closa to you, in this garden where wo bare booa ao
bappy? I am afraid I shall co mod 1 "
ibey approaobed tbo little lake, in wbich ibe olaar noon*
SfO ANTOIfTA.
Um 1^1 with ftll iU ■Un, wu perfectly mirrored, and there
Jnlien axw tbet Medem d'Ealrelle wu pele ; the glin^
mering rediuice of the weter reflected upon her face,
made her aoem area more wan thao ahe reallj was. Her
great, hollow ejea, shiniag id the night with » f^Mj
bri^ttMM, ahowed him how thin the had become.
*' Ton ore djing I " Im cried ; " I am lore of it I That
i« what made 700 eend for me. Very well, Julie ; Z will
nerer leave jon again. If I mtiat lose joa, I will re>
enre joar U«t sigh, and I will die too."
*• Oh DO, Julien, 70a eaaaoti — Toor mother I "
**Sbe ahall die with ua then ; will that tatiafy Ton?
She wanted to die when she loat mj father; she said
M, in ^ite of herself, in her first outbreak of sorrow,
•od I know re^ well that she has cantinaed to live 0DI7
fi>r mj soke. Since we three have only one soul, we wiU
depart together, and we will go to a world where the
purest love will not bo cooaidered a crime. There must
be such a world for those who cannot understand the no-
jost prejudices of this. Let us die, Julie, without any
remorse or vain regreL Give me your breath, — y oar
fvnt, — the death that is in jronr veins. I swear that I
win not survive job I "
"Ah ma 1 " cried Julie, who could not repress the
passionate cry of her heart, "and I could have been
well."
** What did Touaaj?" cried Jolieo, with an exduib-
tion of honor ; " jrou havo token poison ! Tell me,—
have von? X will know,"
** No, no, I meant nothing I " she said, drawing him
forward with a sodden, dospeiKte grasp, that startled
Brading over the edge of the water, she had seen the
vague reflection of her face and white dress, and hod re-
membered that in an hour she would lie theT«, Mre(«hod
oat, motionbss,— "dead. She had sworn itl In uq)ia»
tioa of her violated oath, she most die, and as the
Kof Jnlien's prosperitv. An agonising Gmt of death
node her tronhle and dmw bock,
' "Wbitt omTMi afraid off " he oAod. "What did
TOO nedowntliaMinUwiretar? What tn 70a Uuak-
iQg ftbont DOW? And trbj did 70a >Urt? Ste^.— I
know ; yon mwn todici oow, Kt oaco, u soon u I am
gone awKjr. Bat yon miut not. Yon ara mj wifo.
Since 70U lora me wholly, yoa ere mine. I do not
know whet oath you have token, nor to what oonstraint
yon have been lubjected ; bnt I am your lover, your
hoaband, yoor master ; and I disallow all each obligi^
tions I I vrill ran away with you ; rather, I vrill carry
yon away with me, aa I have a right to do. I will not -
allow yon to die, and my mother shall live also, and give
you her blessing. I have strength enongb to protect
you both ; no matter what hardships are before ns, we
will meet them. Do not besiute any longer. IT 70a
are not strong enough to walk, I will carry you. Let
us go at once, Julie. The time tuts come when yon must
acknowledge that no one except me has any rights over
your life."
lie drew her away in the direction of the pavilion, and
as they again approached tbo water, the struggle between
her love and her remorse became so violent that she gave
a cry of horror, and clung to him with all her strength.
*' I gave my word of honor to Icavo you," she said,
" and I have broken it. And lam bringing your mother
to poverty. Can you take away that reproach from me?"
"You are frantic," said Julicn, "Since you have
known my mother, have you seen her in want? Will any
onecBt my right arm offto prevent ma from working? If
so, I will work with my lofl 1 Kow I undorstaod cvery-
Ihing. This was tbo revcngo that M. Antoino threatened,
I ought to have guessed sooner whyhe gave us my father's
Iiouso 1 Poor Julie 1 You have sacrificod yourself for
our sake. But tbo contract is void : I have not given
my consent; I have accepted nothing at all; I submitted,
but without knowing anything of the circumstances.
Do not tremble so. I absolve yoa from your promise,
and woe to him who undertakes to remind you of it. If
you hesitate, or ore alarmed, I shall think you are regr«U
ting yonr fortune, aod have leu courage and Uu ktv*
rm . m f
H»
ANTONIA.
«« Ah I thmi b what I was so afraid of I " said Julie ;
^^oomoi let OS go I Bat where? How can I ever find
courage to go to your motheri and sa/i * I bring you onlj
poverty and sorrow?"*
** Jnlioi if you doubt my mother, you no longer love
usl-
^ Let us gO| then, and .find her. She shall decide for
me. Take me away,-^save me 1 ^
Exhausted bv so many emotions, Julio's strength quite
failed ; and, as he caught her in hb arms, Julien saw that
she had fainted. There were no means of restoring her
in the pavilion ; ho carried her back to her house and to
her own room, where she had left the door opening upon
the garden un&stened, and where he found a light burn-
ing. When he had placed Julie upon a sofa, she quickly
recovered her consciousness ; but, on attempting to rise,
she fell back.
**Ah, my friend! ^ shosaid, **I cannot move. Am I
going to die? Is it too late for you to save me? Hark I
There is some one knocking at the street-door, is there
not?" *
** No," said Julien, who had heard nothing.
He tried to inspire her with a confidence that was be-
ginning to desert his own mind, when they were both of
them startled by a violent ringing at the outer door.
** They are coming after me, •— to carry me off, per-
hapsr cried Julie, bewildered with fear; ••they will
throw me into a convent I The marchioness, — M. An*
toine,-*one or both of them I And I cannot move!
Carryme away, Julien I Hide me 1"
** Wait, wait I ** said Julien, who had opened an inner
door to listen ; ** it b Uaroel; he b making a great up-
roar, and calling Camille* Sometliing important has
happened, and he wants to warn you. Open the door,
and see him**
•*I cannoti* she answered in despair, after a vain
e&rt.
•« Wen, then, I wiU go,* said JuUen, resolutely ; •^he
may just as well see me here, ibr I wiU not leava the
house withovt you**
Ha huteoed to tlie onter door, when Haroel wm rin^
log «t R furious rata, and, befim soy of th« mttmiU
had tim« to Hm and a«e what waa wanted, Jnl!an ad*
jnitted Marcol and Uadam Thlany, brongbt tbem in, and
dosod the doors again.
" Ah, my child/' cried Madam Thierry, " I wrna rara
that we ahould And yon here 1 VictoiT, my dear Julien,
my poor Jnlie I Ah, I don't koow what I am Baying ;
you mnit get well now j wo bring yon bappioeu I "
Wliea Julie leaned what hod tokoa |Jaee at S^nat,
ahe revired like a dying plaut in a ehowor of rain. H«r
nervoua ercitemont puaed off in joyful tears. As Car
Jalien, who had bcea dangerously ill tho day before, ood
ntterly exhausted that very morning, he was like a paral-
ytic, cured by a fortuDate stroko of lightning, who lod-
. denly begins to walk aad leap again.
Ai^r an hour of heartfelt bnppinesa and oongrataW
tionS) Marcel committed Julie to CamiUe, who undertook
to keep the seirants from babbling about this nocturnal
visit, aod carried Madam Thierry home with him to get
a litUe rest. Julien had already made his escape by way
of the pavib'oQ. Julie sank into a sweet and deep sleep
such as she had not known since her separation from
Julien.
Fortunately, M. Antoina, as we hare said, had long
discontinued his watch upon the hotel d'Estrello ; and
fortunately, also, tho .servants there were devohsd and
discreet ; for if he had heard of the interview betweoa
hia relatives and Madam d'Estrelle, the coosequesces
migbt have been disastrous. Ho had signified his inteo-
tion of infonning tho countess in person of her pardon,
but he was himself fatigued ; his nerves were unstrung ;
and ho was, at the same time, in a great state of Belf-«aU
isfaction and pride. Accordingly he slept very soundly,
and did not get up until a quarter of au hour later than
usual. lie made up for this, however, as soon as ho was
on his feet, by flying into a state of extra activity, that
threw his whole household into alarm ; for IL Antoina
' Was a man energetic in givlug orders, prompt in nUering
threats, aad still more prompt in lifting his eoaa against
S44 ANTONIA,
ddinqiMiiti. la the twinkling of sa sjre tlw old botal
de Helcy wu opened, swept, Kod put in complete order.
Henengen wen sent off in ftll directioos, vA »t noon a
•oiuptDOiu dinner wu Mrved. His guests, ueembted in
the great gilded saloon, awmited some mysteriooa eTeat.
Uarccl Qsbered in Mwdsm Thierrr and M»ilafn d'£strello,
whom be had invited in behalf of the hosL Jnlion had
alto received an invitation, and was present. Julio wh
welocnned b^ Madam d'Ancomt, and Madam des Morgea,
with her daughter and son-in-law. Th« Duke de Ques-
Mj bad Act jet retamed, but the abbi de Niviireo was
on baud, resolved to eat for both of tbem. Tlie pres^
dant^s wife did not keep them waiting, and, lastl/, Marcel
was empowered to present to the ladMS a number of bo^
aaists, both professiooal men end amateurs, whoia M.
Antoioe was accustomed to assemble around him on great
It's eaoufa to make one die of laughter," said the
Htess to Julia, drawing her into the recess of a win-
dow. " The old ffentleman sent me an express st six
o'eloek in tbe moning, to invito mo to be present at the
bi^Misra of a rare plaot which is to be called bf his name 1
Ton can imagine what a temper I was ia, at being waked
op for such a thing u that I I was furious I But when X
had read the postscript, stating that ;roa were to be pres-
•at at the ceremony, I resolved to oome. &o, mj dearest
fiieod, you are roeoitcilod with your old neif^ibor ? Very
wall, so modi the better. Too took my advice, and r»*
•ignod yootMlf to your fiUe. That's right. Mr. Oar*
doner is not partimlariy sgre sable, bat five millions!
Think of that I"
Julie's other friends took a difierent view of tbe matter,
Tbey imagined that bar creditor bad been making a set-
tlement with her in aa amicable way, on terms satisfactory
to both parties ; sod that they woald bo rendoriug Madam
d'Estielle a ewica by aco^ting M. Auioine's invitation,
Tbey qoeatiooad her, tutdar this supposition, and sha did
, th<7 war* far from considering
a saw pint as a pioMof poorila osli»>
AUTOStJL 345
UtioB. U. AotMoe had nuda Mveral intarMting addi-
tioiM to horticnltura. Ha had promoted iba accUmalicn
of uaaful treei, and wu justly ootitled to faara hia nama
neordod in tha aoiiaU of acioooa. A good diniwr, in ndt
casas, ia never objectionable ; nor U the preaence of a
DUinbar of agreeable ladJos nbsolutalj ineonaiatent with a
proper discuaaioD of the graTe interests of botanj.
When all were aasombled, H. Aoloine aaaumad a
modest and good-natured manner ; alwaya, on tha rare
occaaiona when he displayed it, a aura indication that be
waa certain of having adiievcd some great victorf. He
placed the company around a largo table with an object
of conaiderablo height concealed under a great dome of
whil« paper standing in the centre, and procaodod to draw
from his pocket a manuscript of his own inditing, reiy
short, fortunately, but which it was difficult to hear with-
out laughing, since it took nacercmonionaly tho most
fearful liberties both with French and Latin. This treit-
tisc began with*' Ladies and Gentlemen ; " it proceeded
to discuss the importation and cultivation of the finest
known plants of the lily species, and ended thus : " Hav-
ing been so fortunate (in my opinion) as to obtain, raise,
and bring to perfect flowering a specimen, uniqna in
France, of a Lilioccs, surpassing all thoso above onum^
rated in sice, perfume and splendor, I call the attention
of the honorable company to tho individual in question,
and invite tliem to give it a name."
As he ended the reading, M. Antoine, who was armed
with a long rod, dexterously liflcd the paper-covering
from the abject before him, and Julion ntterod a tsrj of
surprise ; for there, fresh and blooming in all its glory,
be beheld the ^nfonta Thierrii. Ho thought, at first,
that it was a trick, — a perfect artificial imitation of the
original AtUonxa ; but as aoon as tho plant was reluaaod
£ram ita covering, it exhaled a perfume that reminded
bim, aa well as Julie, of the happy hour of their firat
meeting. A murmur of sincere admiration ran arooad
the table, u,d M. Antoine added :
" Learned gentlemen, yon will pleaao to know that this
jdant haa put foitlL two flowuvatama ; one, a prettj fin*
MM, in the and of ]£»/, which wM brolwn off hj moei*
dent, and ii preMiTod ia m; faerbuitua ; th» smnd in
Aasoit, twica as Urgs and twica m full a« tb* other,
wlueh liM bloomed, u 70a tee, on the tenth day of the
Mud month."
" B^(e it, baptise it I " cried Madam d'Ancourt.
** I would like to be the godmother of tbli beoatiful lilj i
bat I loppoee eomebodr elM — "
She pouied, and lookod over at Julie, good-natorodlj,
and yet ironieoUy. . The iava»U, without noticing her,
iman i moaily proclaimed tbo nonw of Anbmia TJuTni."
"Too «r«v«r]rgood,geaUemea,'* said U.Aiiloine,bluab>
ing with pleoanre and ■tammering with emotion, ** but I
dwira to raggeit a modification. It is fair enongfa tliat
tbe plant should bear my name ; but I should like to join
to it the first name of a person who — of a lady — in
fiwt, I want to nomo it Julit-Anhnia-TKinTii.''
"It's rather long," obserred Moroel; "but tbea it's
indt a toll plant I "
** V«ry good ; hnmh for the Juii^AntOMa-TkitTii I "
•nswerod the scienlifio gentlemen, with great roadinesi.
"Tberel At lostl Brarol It is decided, thonl"
«ied the Baroness d'Anoonrt, in so lond » Toioo as to at-
tract the oUeation of the whole table. Poinliog to Julie,
die clasped her ptnmp, whits bands, as a sign of on snti-
STtrrbody uoked at Julie, whose Tirid blash brought
bodt oU tbe qrlesdor of bor beauty.
" PudoQ me, baronass," said unde Antoioe, with a
sly expression ; " I decairad yon when I applied to yon
to moia oa ofito of marriage in my behalf to the Countess
d'Estrello. I wanted to see what you would say, and
you did not refiise ; on the contrary, you odrisad the
'young Isdyto accept me. This daoided ma to propose to
her the person whom I really hod in ray mind; forlsaid
roysslf, * If an a" *
nold fallow like me is considered a proper
Bwicn rar um young lady beconsa I have mouey, my
Mpbaw, wbo is young, and wbo will inherit a large sharo
«f.a>y mooigr, wHi sUnd * good ehoaea of bsing really
•M^led.' ' Aooocdia^, lodiss and gmtknuiB^'^M^. "Mk
AUTOKIA.
•47
eouMot of Mftdom dTftnllo, Z Mmonneo th&t Uw varioni
diacustioiu that h»Ta takes place between her and mjMlf
an lenainoled, >ad that peace ia etmcloded by tbe be* '
troibal of Madam d'Eatrnllo and mj nephew Juliea
Thieny, whom I do m^Mlf the honor to praeent to
yoa."
"Ah, bah I the Toong painter 1 ** oied Uodom d'Ao-
coart, irritated, without knowing whj, at Julien's good
kwka and ardent oxpreuion.
"A poiater?" cried Madam doe Morgeo, greotlj
■hocked; " oh, mjr dear, it wu tme thea?"
"Tea, mj friende, it woi tme," answered Jnlie,
bniTelj ; " wo lorod each Other before wo knew that M.
Anloine wonld rescne n« fVom the porerty whkh tluea^
ened na both."
" I declare that M, Antoine ia a great man, and a tme
philosopher 1 " cried the abhi do Niviirei. " If we oonld
onlj have dinner 1 "
" Let us go to dinner, ladies and gentlemen I " replied
H. Antoine, oSering Julio his arm ; "you will consider
this marriage a ro^Uinnce for the conntesa, but each of
my nephews will have three inilliooa, — that will polish
up the family, and my grond-ncphowe will bo rich enough
t9 purchase tilhsa."
Tbia Snol argument hod ita effoct upon Jolio'a frionds,
who, after n little hcsitntion, offered her their eoDgnUolo-
tions. She was obliged to accept the imputation of hav-
ing sacrificed the dignity of rank for wealth. But what
dill it matter, of^er oil? Julicn knew what she rsallr
frit. '
Julie, — who was still in mourning for her fkther4a-
law, ^ went to Sdvres to pass the rest of the aummer.
S6vrce is on ooaia in Normandy, about two leoguoa from
Paris. The orchards have a rural perfume, and the biU-
aidcfl, thickly dotted with ruatlo gardona, wore juU a*
lovely, and more oimple in thoae days than they are tX
pTosent. Not that we would undervalue the amiling viUoa
of tho S&vrea of to^y, with their splendid abodo-treeo,
their pictnresque nvioes, and bold preoipicea deaoondiu;
Abruptly to the river. The nulrood boa not j«t robbM
S48 ANTOmJL.
tkii woodj n^oo of all iti pootry, aad it U very delight-
fnl tobe able, in a quarter of an hour, to reach giAWf
footpath* aad moadovre eloping to the water. From the
top of the hill, through the erorea of trees grouped in the
feregrODod, yon can lee Fana, grandly outliaod upon the -
bhM hoiia(«. Three etepe off, at the bottom of the ra-
Ttoe, proa loeo sight ahogelher of the gnat eitr ; and,
aeeaptog eron from the giariog while of the villas, can
wandor about in the real country, — a little old-Aishioned,
bat fresh, eereae, and eveiywhcra gay with Bowers. '
Here Jnlie recovered ber health, which for some timo
, was serionily impwrod ; and before their marria^, as well
a* after it, ita and Juliea won all in all to each other.
What society said and thought about thoir morria^, thoy
did not even wish to know, Thoy liad a salOGieDt number
of real friends, and Madam Thierry was the bftppicst of
molbers. It is tme that titeir repoee was disturbed by
the political troubles, whoso approach Julion hod fore*
seen, alihou^ ho had not anticipated such swift and
radical changes. Frank and gensrons, he made himself
OTtremely useful in the neigbborbood by bis efforts to t»-
Ueve the misery of the poor, and to prevent them from
iadulgiog in acts of fatal violonoo. For a long timo ho
preserved groat induonoe ovsr tlio workmou of tlic S^vros
Motor)*, and those of the faubourg snrronnditig the hotel
d'Estrelle. On certain occasions ho was ovsrborao ; but
Bathing oould Induce bin to pursue a course tlint his con-
■eleaee disonprevod, and be found bimsolf tbroatonod in
bis ton, ana on Ibo point of being denounced as a sns-
J^eioos poreoQ. Tbo ilnnness with which lie repelled theso
Mipiflknu, Uw naorosit* of his personal sacrillGOii, and
bis eonOdesoe when In Uie midst of danger, saved him.
JoUe was not leas brave i.ber obaroctor was tnnslbrmod i
•be lost hor timidity, and ber mind was strengUionod nnd
developed by hor unioa with a noble and couragooui
aature. She suffhred groat anguish at seeing num>
bore of hor old iVtends seised by iho revolutionoiy ofll-
«ialS| la ^10 of all that Julie could do to protect them.
By wise adviea and leadble measurss she suocoodod In
aaviutf MTCntl of Ihasa viotimt. Two aht eouMakd. ^
ANTONIA. S49
b«r own hooM ; bat ahe could not prwerro Um BmoqIm
d'Ancomt, who botrsTod benolF )if tbo toij bxccm of
her terror, and Kifiered fto extremoly mtoto impriMMf
meat, ^e uilackT' MarehionoM d'Bitnllo ooidd «ot
eoatain bor fnrj at baring to ooatributo bor BaviDgi (o
the foKod loans, ood perished on tbo icafibld. The Daks
do Quosnoy enigrotod. The abbi do NiTidroB, moro pro*
dont, become « Jocobin.
After tbo Boign of Torror, the snpprossion of ths
monopolr of the rojrol establishments onoblod Juliea to
accomplish * favorilo design : to iatraduco, pmetieall/,
tbo iadastrial and artistic improvements, which, in his
leisure at Sevres, ho hod been studying and ozperimonl-
iog 00, Ho gained no profit by uoiog this, nor did be
dcsira any ; in fact, bo lost mouoy, but he sucooodod in
oloTaling the conditioo of many poor families. Accord*
iogly he did not becomo rich, but his wife was bappy ia
seaiog him pursuo his artistic labors and take pleMure
in auperintcadiog the education of his childrea.
Marcel bought a little Uoum at Serres, near Julien's,
aod the two families passed together as many holidays
and leisure days as the worthy lawyer, now an advocate,
and absorbed ia busiuou, could spnro from his profcesional
duties. lie acquired, by liouoBt industry, n rospectnblo foi^
tuno, ODil Jutioa lenmod to manage his property witli the
prudoDco which his father hod lucked. It was well lie
did so, for M. Astoine's property was confiscated ia the
Itevoluliou. Tlio old man, who fell do dcsira for fnmil/
ties, contiuuod to live alone ; ho was as graoious as his iir>
luro allowed him to be with his rcloiivos, whose grutitiulo
flattered his pride, but* ho refiisod to outer into any rol^
tions which could lulerfuro with his own mode of life.
Having promised Marcel lo nhaiidoa liis idea of inn^
ryins, lie kept his word ; but auoihor mania seised him.
lie became interosiod in politics, and donouocod with
oqunl fury whatever party chaneod to bo uppermost.
Tho^ were all, ncoording to him, craiy, or blind, or
stupid, _ The king was too weak, the pooplo were
loo patient, the guillotino was by turns loo idle or too
rorouoiu. Fioolly, the swift sucoasaios of Vn^adim
SjO
AltTOmA.
conTnldng FHnc* •Mowd to confttM his misd, whieb
Iwd ftlwATt bMD nuonod ratbor thut evil diaposed. Ha
diuiged nil riawi, tod, «Aor advocating tho moat ultra
uiivcalotto doctrine*, bacaiiM ridicoloiul/ coiuorratiTa.
All tbasa Tagariea wara qnito luhnlats, for ha attempted
no intriipic*, but eonlontod bimaolf with railing against
pMpla waA erants, on tha tnw occauons whon ba nuda hu
appearaoeo in sociatjr. Ha vas, however, denounced by
•on* woAmaa whom ha bad iU4reated, and eama rerj
near losing hit bead to pay for his unbridled bursts of o^
* Mnia eloquence.
Julian and Ifarcel, \(j perseTsring efforts, induced him
to quit tba botol da Uol^, vhero ho wu ovary d» in
dangsr of brii^g down a storm upon bis hood, Thof
kept him ia oonecalmont at Sirros, where be tormentod
tbem greatly with his iU-hnmor, bendes compromising
Ihem more than once by hia Imprudence. His property
having bean placed in aequostration, be only recovered
fragments of it \ bat be supported this great loas with
nnch philosophy. He was like tboso pilots who cursa
•nd swear during tha storm, but who aro quite calm
while inrlog to save eomothiog from tho wreck. Juliea
orged hut to take badt the property aattlod upon himself,
bat ho raAisod to touch it. His garden was not soixed ;
•nd having ultimately roeoverod it almost uoloucbed, ha
nsomed his old babits, and became rolativoly good-
hnmorod. Ha livod in the hotel do Uclcy until ibo year
180S, and was strong and active, to tho lost. One day ba
was foond dead, sitting on a boneb.in the sun, bis watering-
pot half AiIl by his side, and on bis knee an unintolligible
matmscript,— the last IncubrationW bis exhausted Iniain.
He ^ed without any warning. Only the day before, he
had said to Marcel, —
** Don't bo alarmod ; the millions that you were to bava
iabeiited &am me, you shall bava. Let me only live ten
yaars longer, and I will make a greater fortune than I
■aada before. I have a plan for a constitntion that vriU.
mvo FVaaoo from fortber disttu-baooe ) when that is set* '
tied, I will give aome attsntioB to »y own a&irt, and r»-
ma nj «3^oct trade."
THE
NOVELS OF GEORGE SAND.
Br UARGARET J. M. SWEAT.
A STUDY of the ]it«nt(aro of lonsoagei other thu
our own is daily boconuDg more Doceuftiy to '
the completion of an even modenttelj good educatioo.
To thoae who aim at culton, an oxteniivQ acquaintance
with foreign worlu is impomtiTo. The limits in this
direction widen rapidly ; and everything which makei
Oil* source of koowlodgo accessible is of value to the
public, and demands ackuowledsmont. The onaouQce-
mont of a trauslatioQ of tho novels of Ooorgo Sand is
an event of importance in tho history of American liter*
aturo, aud renders appropriate » somowhat olobomte
ezaminatioa of tho claims to our attoation posscsood by
this writer, who is almost without dispute allowed to be
the greatest of EVonch romanco-writors. A brief anal-
ysis of some of bor numerons works will sorvo to indi-
cate, in some measure, the rich f^nd of eatertoininent
aod the vast stores of thought contoiuod in the romances
of George Sand. We hope that most of them will be
pven u> the pnblio in the promised series. Ko oinsJa
author could bettor serve the purpose of exemplif^nf
J NOVELS or GBOnOB SAND.
Dm moct prominont uid oontnitiTa qiialiti«i' of modem
Fnadh geniaa, or «n«bls u to obuin r mora cttmidete
Idaa of iu derclopmeat nndar tha formi of philowphf,
poUtici, nligion, and all otb«r aocUl prablemi.
Ando from tlw intrinaio difibnnou which axiit b»>
twMB tho idioDU of th» two Ungnagea, then ara oUiar
atronglj marked diaumilaritiea ia French and EogUih
litarattue which aeem to be iohereot in the natnre of
••di. If the idioms present what maj be callod mechan*
kal difflcoltiee in tho tranilator't path, aince it ii certain
• preoM aqnivaleDt cannot alwajs be giren in one Iaa>
fsage fi>r an expreaiion in another, so that tho translator
b not iDfreqnently obliged to choose between a litaral
T«rbal aoenrao^ which fiula to reader the subtlotj of
tho aadwr^s thought, and a free tranalatioD which opena
tba way to a dirersity of style ;.so, also, what we shonld
call the aatiooal diSereoeos lend to preserre the foreigQ
tone Bod aspect of the book in its new tongoe. It
nqaiies oot only skill and qnicknesB of perception to
tnaalate ■aeoenfolly, but also the power of taking on
the very garb and fkshimi of another's mind, in order to
gire those delicate shades of meaning which help to
naka up that impalpaUe bat positive thing which wo
call aa anthor^a style. Of this we hare mors than nsoal
pnaiae ia the translatiMs before us.
French aorels hare shared with their English cod-
taa y or a rica in tho great impulse which has carried them
to ft Ugh position among the social forces of the time.
They ban baoone a (aTorito naedinm for tho dissemio*
•lioQ at now theories, tho diseossion of difflcnlt social
q— stkins, and the promnlgation of new remodies for
kaaaaiUs. "Telemachns" a&d"Faiil and Virginia"
WnykUad to KNBuwaa which eibtoAite ^iuk ws^m^*^
NOVSLS OF GRORQS SAVD. j
of HumeriBm uid Fonriarism; of Commoniim iDd
AgTsrioiiiam ; or Mt forth in ftotoAii fermi tha MadB>
■ioni of Kristocntie AUiMua or Jkahioiublo RmtfioiiB.
6omo vn devoted to tha building up of political eootti'
tntiona, othen to tbo touing down of roligioiia cmodi.
Othsrg, aguo, coatent thcmaslTH with the narrower
field of obaerretion contained in a atn^ hnnoaa heart ;
but OTOD then thej bring to the analjua of their anlyeet
the aid of prerioua metaphjiical practice, and awwnbli
together the rareat pajchological phenonMiw. In the
painting of excopUooal chamctor, in tho akill vith whidi
tho inner springs of action ar« laid open to tho reader,
George Saad has no rival but Balsac, while in tho
choice of her Bubjects thore ii more geniality and mon
&!th in human uature.
It is useless for tho warmest admirers of French
novels to deny that there is ver/ generally pravalent in
them an atmosphere of immorality, a disregard of many
restraints dear to most English hearts. Iliis element is
more or loss prominent, more or less offeusivo to Ibe
taste, according to the breadth or delicacy of ti^miUnj it
receives. It is judged dangerous or culpable by each
reader for himself, according to the degree of cloeeness
in his own moral reasoning ; for tho term immorality,
when applied to novels, is remar k ably etostio, and there
ore few subjects in regard to which a wider diversity of
judgment exists. When the ottiectionablo quality is in
coorso and conspicuous relief, — when it is mado the
maiuBpring of action in tho diaracters and tbo plot,—
when, in short, it is the grand intention of tha book,^
it generally assumes a repulsive form, and becomea so
tmiaviting as to prove comparatively harmleaa. Thors
Is much less mischief to be apprebaoded £rom audi pco*
4 NOVELS OF GSORGS SAMD.
diMdou than from thoM ia which «a sTil mMn-
ing ia Ttilod booMUh a ■kilfU dnipeij of Mntimaat,
•ad adoTMd by ibt ekgut nflaemont of k poetical
taita. Thii flDdi an iatidioiu wmj into tho miod, lik*
thoM poiaoai, vhieh) admiaUtond by imtwrcoptibly
iaeraaiiDg qoaDtitloa, ponetrata through the whole $j»-
Un with bat little rlilble tign. Those work*, on th«
vatnry, which bear their mark onblmhiDgl/ upon tha
■orfiwa, at eoaraa and rulgar men upon their brow, are
tnnied awajr from the door at once; or if snirrepti-
tkHuly introduced to miniater to aome depraTod taste,
•re eooeaaled on the approach of rintora, at tho impulae
of a shame which ia, in itaelf, an indication that ita
owner ia sot jet b^ond hope.
Aaeag the worka of George Sand majr be found aoma
' whidt certainly lie open to condemnation, if w* jodga
them Minmaiilj and withont regard to the eircnmsta&oea
under which thej were written, which, in our own
cqunion, bj Ihmiahing an^Ie explanation of their origin,
iV^*"^ from die critic, at least, a modified verdict. In*
deed, eran on general principlea, it is not strange that she
ahonld catdt a portion of the spirit of her time, — a qtirit
viiidi ia, as we hare said, almost univenaL
The reasons for tho preralence of this immoral tone ia
modem fVeoch literature are b^ond the limits of our
■alyeot. It has been lottg in exiatonce, and fbstend bj
the protecting care of the boat intellecU in the nation. Il
has come now to be hereditary, and oach new author
•ntera upon it aa upon a portion of hia patrimony. Hia
predeeeseon hand it orer to him aa they thomaelTea
raceired it, with aodt additiona aa drcnmstancee haTo
•Babied them to make to it. It seems to be imposttUe
te a FriMh writer of the psMent day to eotii*^ diTwt
JfOVSLS OF QBORGB SAXO. . 5
' luiDMlf of R tonden^ to Keptlcal philoMtphuing oa A*
grftTost anlyMiU, or to freo him§elf from w, genani nm^
«rene« whon ho q>proachea tho docpor mjnteriM of lib.
Thu ii noiUter wiUiout expUoation nor bxcoso, ao fir, at
lout, u tho presont gonoration Ii ooncsmod ; it u in tbt
' air thoy breaUie thna corlieat childhood ; it is in humaoj '
vith the aocioty of tho world about thorn; and thdir
ehoiOMt libraries ore redolent of its subtle odor. W« im
Um risk of great uniaimoss in making np onr crilicil
judgment, if we omit this fact in the examination of
modem French literature. The time, wo hope, h^ forefor
gone hj when the status of people in this life and lbs
next can be determined bj tho ijm dixit of « few iodivid-
uals, who would apply to all tho world tho inflexible miss
which aoit to admiration the exigoncios of their own &bj^
row naturea, but which fail of all application the momoit
a new varic^ of the human species comes forward, or
the TilmUiona of tho human temperament obtain room for
action.
Few authors hare been so difierontly judged as Georgo
Sand ; bo indisoriminatoly lauded, so unchoritabljr ooi^
demned. Those who sympathize with her hare found
little to censure ; those who do not, have found littlo to
approve. A thousand idle tales about hor hare fonod
eirculaUon and credence ; wretched translations of a few
of hor most ultra outbursts have done her i^justico. But
Time is coming to the rescue, and a now estimate, — at
least BO far as all but a am< circle of readers is con-
cerned, — is being placed upon tho value and the beaoty
of the creations of her genius. SometUing of the same
change has also passed over her works themselves ; the
passage of years, and perhaps also tho indulged nipiuiiiciii
of her views in her earliest writings, have oodled the aidw
« NOVELS OF GBORGS SANO.
of har d«ntincutiou. agBinat aociatf, ood etlnwd tb*
freiay of bar tMiitonw to aeUblirfad inatitotJOM. lanme
of W first roBunoea, — u in " InduoA," " Jaoquoi,'*
ttnd " Ulis," — tlM earned a npototion which has doog
to hsr like the poieoned gument of Nessos, and which
anne pouogei in her pereonol hiotorj did mnch to con<
firm. "Indiana" was a flower of the tro^ea, blMMmiiig
in impruned laznriouce, and exhaling a pmaonooe perflima
from vnrj petaL The other two, idoto carefully written
•sd more refined in style, cnlminote in a eablimoted sen-
timentalinn, and belong in • region of ixnpoesibili^ m to
diorocter and plot I bot in coneoqneaee of their lin g nlari^,
■nd the nnmietakoble pnmuM of great power which they
ponets, thojr are worth/ of attention ae indicative of a
troanent bat intense stoto of feeling in the author, £i
judging of most of the writings of George Sand, h is
tt Wfitff y to know more of her own lift and experience
than is re([uired for a &ir eritieism of meet anthon, fiir
llw reason that in thom she, to on unosoal degree, ox*
priiisi iUrfcI/. Thej have genoroUjr been considered
more or less dugoisod episodes in her own lustoi7, or, at
' least, OS phases of her inner life, pointed out wiih ima^
inai7 aoeessories. Though we ore rerj &r from accepting
this resemUonce as in vaj degree litenl, and from belier-
ing Qiat her characters are in anjr narrow sense portraits,
wo /et fM that her intense personal!^ has so fhsod her
own experiences in the crucible of her genius, so assin>>
Hated bar outward influences with her inward emotions,
that the remit has given vs rare insight into a most rich
and varied life. We hear the cries of her braised heart,
the Aoots of her various enthusiasms, the annooacements
of i^anga and jngraM in her moral aod intoDoetnal pod*
tka. B«lntitifaiBthaw«ridoriit«atBnw«t«nad»
NOVSI^ OF GEOROa SAXD. ' y
orer tha niliu of her domestic pMca, ud it was mtanl
that she Bhoald ondoaTor (o proro tb* intolonUa ir^^
of tha social joko, u tha best plea for haviD^ banalf
thrown it off. Tha ardor of her diapoution did not aUov
her to be calm in the battle she wu fighting, or eran to
. bo oTor-fastidiooi in tho choice of weapons.
The desire which tha public long ago manifested fof
some knowledge of the woman who conU pour forth sodb
daring, pasaionata complaint, and who eonld clothe her
thoughts in such a gloiy of eloquence, called out the moat
contndictoij narratives concerning her. The deacriiH
tions of the life, and oren of tho person of George Sand,
were colored to suit tho supposed taste of thb public, or
the projudico of tho individual who furnished the infoi^
mation. For a. long time Madame Dndovont was looked
upon u a sort of mTstcrious vampire, about whom, how-
ever little could be proved, eveiTtbing horrible mi^t be
believed. This mlat of exaggeration of course dis^
poared after awhile, but many, people felt astonished
when Ihoro oraorgcd Irom it a figure of most feminine
'propoTtions, a face of refined uid dignified bean^, and a
heart of warm and tender bonovolonce. The frequent
indications we discover in hor works of generositf , eoergj,
grandeur, and aweotnoas, ore all tho honest outgrowth of
qualities deepl/ rooted in her nature.
A few words ore necessary to recall to the reader's
mind the salient iacidents of Mme. Dudevant's life, for
the purpose of making manifest the intimate union whidi
has always existed between what aba has been writing
for the publie and what she has been living, and it ma^
be suffering, in private. A most interesting and detailed
account of her birth and early years is to ba found ia
her " Histoii* de ma Vie," which ia an admirable piacs
8 NOVELS OF GSOXGS SAIW.
of uulTtie ntrofp«edoa. Wi h&ra only tpM* for the
BKMt DMign outlioM. Sha ckinu deM«Dt from tlw
giMt MmhjJ S«xa ; tad trt doubt not that thii ancw-
I17, with t\M bar uoitlcr, b inoro a nattar of prido to
bcf Ihaa if the Chnrdi had sanctifl«d all the dagreei of
* hombkr lineage. Bom at a time when rerolntiona
ware vnrj^j oconmocaa) nnnod amid aocial eonvnl-
iioiu, and nuroonded bjr all the alarm* of war, her aar>
liaat Impreationa mmt hara taken most decided form and
flotor tma the drcnmstances of her infanejf. Xezt fol-
lowvd a wild, nntrammeltod conntrj lift nnder her
pandmother'a roof, on a& eatate still the larorite reai-
_ denee of Mme. DaderanL 'Dian tvro or three yeara of
xOXtAj difiereot a x iatanca in a Fariaiaa convent, where
aba ifant throogh a Meaoa of religioiu exaltation and
intaiua iatrOTonion, — som* idea of which naj be
gained throngfa tha atoiy of "6piridiout" to which it
gara riae. At eighteen aha maniod U. Dodavant, a
inaa whom aha bad bo reason to lore, and who was
vttariy imaoited to her in enrj raipecL For ei^t
7«ava aha atrnggled agalnat bar fate, aswiled bjr thooa
parplazitiaa and diaoonragainanta, whidt are all tha mora
Intolerable, baeaosa tha worid impoaaa iilaooa on the
■ off er e r, and ia ohaiy of aTmpalhy towarda nnh^pj
wirea. At length the left her luuband to the aodatj of
hia abaep and osan, — orratbar ben, for their boma waa
bar own proper^, — went to Paris, commenced her lib-
anuy eanar, and Uoodenr Dodarant woke np ona
noning to find himself fomona as the bosband of a
WMoaa who no longer belonged to him. Her first sno-
oaMfol pn b liaa t ioB waa " Indiana." Her choice of •
new itf l mM la aaid to have arisen oat of a eorabioation
ifttoaaaaofbarMaod JniM SMlMA^tnA^^ ^ms^
NOYBLS OF GBORGB SAND. a
of the publiahcr's acceptance of her KSS. on St. George's
"Day. She is said tu hcivo written thirty toIuidcs in t«a
jcurs. This notiriag iaduatry shorn hovr great must
have bcoQ, to her, tho roliof of pouring oat her long
pent-up indtgnatioQ and cnihusiasm. Mcautimo a Icgul
Bcparntion from her husband was obtained, and she was
. roiusiatcd in poascssion of her estate of Nohaat, tho rer-
eoues of which had been appropriated until then by him.
She suSercd much from pororty in her early Paris days,
and gives. Id her autobiography, a very piquant account
of her iagoQiooa devices against it. Oco of them was tha
adoption, when she went out, of masculino habiliments,
which proved a double ndvaatage, — first in tl\e way of
cheapness and durability, and nert as enabling her to go
where she pleased unmolested. She formed ianumc^
able friendships among artists, scholars, and literary
men, and soon took among them a rank she has oltrays
since maintaiiied. Her personal appearance is, as wa
have said, by do means that which those who regarded
her ond her works with horror would imagine. Her
Bofl, abundant hair ; her mild, expressive eyes, — which,
as Ueiue pithily remarks, " recal neither Sodom aor
Gomorrah " ; her kindly smile, and reserved but gentle
manners, are anything but Amazonian ; and her tiny
feet do not suggest the treading out of all the conveii-
lionaliems and most of the propriclics of life. She has
sometimes been compared to tho Ycnus of Milo ; and
now that ago is dimming tho brilliancy of iicr appeal^
anco, it makes more apparent the quiet dignity of her
whole bearing. We sco frequent paragraphs in circula*
tion relating to her method of life, her Lterary and social
habits, and her especial cbarncterbtics : it is well to take
them without entire reliance upon them \ bat their puny.
lO IfOVSLS OF GBOSGB SAND,
bar aod nriatj are proof of the eoutant interett which
ii fUt in tho nlyoct, Li ipito of the snppoaed portrMU
of harwlf, which, in the opinioD of the ignorftnt, abound '
in her fletiont, the b!u been reiy ehu/ of real aelf-
levelation ; and even in tho ten Tolumea over which her
**Hi>toira do ma Vie" czteitda, the diaplayi groat akiU
in AToidiog anj diKloeuroa or nnveilings at which the
nort fksti^one taste could revolt. But in her vorka of
imagination her own vitality lo flUe her chonioteni with
life, and in her own oxporienoe to many pecoliar natures
have oome nnder her observation, that it is by no means
strange that her women have in some hdm the stamp of
her own patnre, and her men the same salient character*
tsUes as those with whom she has been in daily contact.
Batf as in most of the so-ealled portraits in flelion, for
one pirint of resemblance we liave « hnndred of dissimil*
arity. Aa example of this we may qnote as quite la
point ; it is from a letter written by a friend to Ooorga
Sand, when the pnblio were lijlng to establish the, iden-
tity of the dukncter i^ L61ia with George Sand her>
■elft
" Ca na vous ressembla pas, k vons qui ttes gale, qui
daasei la bourrio, qui npprtcies le lepidoptAro, qui na
neprieei pas le calembonr, qni oe eoosei pas mal, et qui
faltea trls-bien les eonfltures."
We make this extract with the greater pleasoret
beeaose it proves the existeaee of so many of the domea-
' tie, genial, and comfortable qualities nde by tiA» with
the rarest giita of genius and the creative aaergy of •
most brilliant imagination.
It is, tlterefbre, from a vaiy mlnj^ web of dream*
itaiws aad tamperanentt from a rare nnlon of beao^
■ad InUDaet, af |«lkosa> ud ddaH»t{t»&.%\&KM
NOVELS OF GBOttGB SANO. it
tnnw fun of activi^ vai ezdtenMat, wd abMirbad in
bborioui udiMkud •todjr, Ibat we mart uk tha mnri-
tng ud seek for the kejr to the wriliost of Goorge SuuL
U i* in contempUtiDS the womui tli«t w« batter mtde^
•tend tha author, and it is in stndTing (be nnthor that
we learn a wider cbnritf towards the woman. Wo naod
not shriok from admitting that sho ha« somatimea orrod,
both oa the woman and Iho author, for (hronsh all we
■00 a s^'sat heart palpitating with intense life, — awqit
tamoUooasljr along at times through deep and tnrbid
waterS) but noTor quite submorgod beneath the billowa.
Alwajrs grand in her anger,' passionate in her Ioto, gain
erous in licr instincts, fierce in invective, but novor nai^
TOW in bar judgments, there aro few women formed in a
mould BO noblo as hers. Tbo silenco with which she has
met the innumerable attacks mode upon her and bar
works i the quiet pertinacity with which sho lias gone on
dovclopiug and enforcing aud illustratiog the groat prii^
clplos of froodom for which sho strivoa, form, in our jndg>
moDt, Uirough its cootrost with thosa natnros which ant
led only by ill-conBiJorcd impulse, a strong ground from
which to combat Ibo assertion, agreed to even bjr xauaj of
hor admirers, Ibat in bcr books sho has recklessly laid bare
the hearts and lives that should bavo boon sacred in coi^
oealmont. To an imaginiUioa so rich ns bors, what sood
to paint too closclj from life? Wa protest against tha
almost uDivoraoI practice of laying rule and mcasnro to
artisUo creations, which, thoogh the germ of their con>
ccption might have arisen in the duty walk of life,
remain fiulhful, not to tbo prosaio development of the
persons who suggested them, but, raised into the npper
air by tlio artist's power, live and move and act under a
now heaven, or mdu for ihemselvos, and tlu other aeton
IS NOVELS OF GBORGB SAND.
on Um imaginaiy tcene, a bell of tmgOTemable passion.
It ma./ be a delicate task to draw the line where resem-
blance ceases and separation begins, but it is cmel to
bold George Sand responsible for broken faiths and reck-
less betrajals, becanse she first loved Chopin and Alfred
de Mnsset, and then wrote **Lncrexia Floriani*' and
** Elle et Lai.** Eren in admitting that she had each of
them in her mind, we hare ourselves no question that in
an the circumstances and details of her romances, she
deviated veiy widely from those episodes which stand
finth in her own life ; and we firmly believe that, in spite
of the way in which the virtuous world has shaken its
wise old head over these sad scandals, it has really not
obtained any more definite knowledge of the private life
of George Sand, or the characters of her friends, fix>m
those books, than it might easily have learned from out-
side sources. Grossip, finding a small bone to pick, is
very apt to imagine there is a great deal of meat on it,
and to growl and scold over it in most dog-like fashion.
If fictitious characters are not in any degree like the
people about us, we declare them unnatural ; if they are,
we can them portraits, and denounce the indeUcacy of
the author. This is so common that hardly any author
of genius escapes it ; we hear constantly of the originals
of the heroes and heroines of novels. Charlotte Bronte
sufiers as much in this way as George Sand, in propor-
tion to the number of romances she wrote, and the prao-
ticabiHty of applying the story to her own life. She was
Jane Eyre, she was Lu^ Snowe, everybody was some-
body else; she was almsed for transporting into her
fictions the people and the places that she had seen and
known*
We take great pleasure in quoting, in eoutteotiftBL^i^aJ^
NOVELS or GSORGS SANO,
>3
thii pottioii of oar nilgoet, tome vMydmiiablo ttaa a Ag
pablished roeomtlj in the Ntw York Eveming JW, in
regnrd to Qoorgo Sood'i lut novel, " iSaigritOal" :
"Am to the qoestion whotluir that diameter (UDe.
d'Ortoia) ii ntHlj mooat for tbo EinprcaB, it U ono whidi
nooda no difcOMioa for thoao who undontmud the priDci-
pln on which » work of art u constructed. G«(H;go Sand
ii on artiit ; and it it not an artist, but a vnlgar and eon^
monplaoe writer, who photographs living men and women
in a novel. That the wonderful career of Eagenia de
Guzman must have been in th« mind of the author when
aho wrote "Malgr^ut," and ma/ even have euggeatad
some of the traits in the adventaresi there describod, does
not prove that the character she has drawn was supposed
by her to be identical with 007 ono in real life, or even to
throw any light whatever upon it."
A complete enumeration of Gooi^ Sand's novels is
not necessary to furnish proof of her enormous industiy,
infinite versatility, and ozhaustless imagination. Wo will
select from among them some which may be conudered
^ical of each class, not so much for critiusm, -^ for they •
have been liberally criticised in their day and boor,— bat
to give to those who have not read them soma faint idea
of the amount of original thought, deep and varied r^
search, rare learning, and unfailing knowledge of hnmaB
nature, which meet together in one whom Mrs. Browning
has so happily designated as the ** large-brained woman
and large-hearted man."
" Consuelo," the longest of Groorge Sand's novels, was "^
introduced to the American public through an admirable
translation by Mr. Francis George Shaw, in lUfi. It is
probably the best known of her works in this oonntry,
and the diaroctar of " Consuelo ** is recognised as a cn»>
14 irOVBLS OF GRORGS SAND.
tion of BKWtnra and delicate bewit/. nieetayielu^j
dnuaatio at interraU, and in the paoaes of iU action dtera
ooenr deli^tful passaget abont mnsio and art, erudite
diMonknu on philoaophy and theology and mesmeriam,
M WttU at mnch historical information drawn from oat-o&
Ihe-waj ionrcefl, and made instinct with life.
** The Connteu of Budolstadt " ia a sequel to " Con-
dmIo," bat inferior to it in interest. We hare glimpses
of tiM court of the great fVederidc, of Toltaire, and many
other eelebrilies. It tonches upon necromaner, Freemox
■amj, niDminism, and forma a meet bizarre mixture of
mnsia and polities, psychology and strategy, dram* and
riiapaody. There are passAges of great eloquence which
yet linger in oar memory; one, in particular, which ei>
. doMs a resiimj of the eighteenth oentnry, which is worthy
of • doMB readings.
** Ifauprat," the Tolmne with which the present series
oftrasslatiou commences, is the history of a nature bora
aitd brought up under the moat bratalising influences, but
maioifig, throiigh all, enough of nalivo nobleness to r»-
q^ood almost anhesitatiogly to the demands of an unselfish
lore, and led with slow bat certain steps, ^ for erea
when Uauprat warers, we know he will not fall, — up
to a serene W^t of Tirtne, and • fweat aoeeptanoe of a
**L* petila Fadattfl" is qnita a different kind of stoiy, -
and brings befbre ns a sweet end often pathetic pictnre -
, of mral doouttie life. It is like the scent of Tiolcts and
the song of birds ; it Is one of many opportaoiiias al^
ftrded ns of diteoraring the intense lore of nature In
Unta. Dodsvant, of bar keen senaitiveoess to iu beauty,
and her delieata ajipreeiation of ila most aaUle soerets.
Briaf and aimpla as it is, it la moat poaitiva In too* and
JfOVBLS OP GSORGS SAXD. 15
color, ud, like k paintiog hy Ueiuofuer, contah* a
UiouMnd delicata deUBi on its snuQ cutu.
"ToTsrino" ia the hutor^ of a tonumr's daj ud
night, ipont Dpoa the frontier of lUlj hj s iadj oad her
loTor ; the motive-power of the itoij being found in the
fkct thst the lorer has oadertnkeD to keep the lnd7 well
unused for the tinta stipulated. The conditioa is that
she shall nsign herself to his guidnnce entirely. Tbef
start off in a carriage, and a piquant conreraation oh
snes, which forms the fint part of the enlertainment.
Then follows the meeting with an odd series of compan*
ions, among them tho beautiful and graceful Torerino,
who produces a tremendous, but fortunately a transient,
effect on the heroine. Tha charm of the atoi^ is in the
descriptions and Bcenerjr of the book ; it has tho com-
pleteness of an idjl, and its repose also, except for the
brief excitement of Sabina, from which no harm results.
In the charming story of " L'homma de Neige," we
are traiuportod to a climate and a society the Tory anti- -
podes of Torerino. The cool, crisp air of northern
Europe braces instead of enervating ; the Anrom Borealis
gleams with ghostly splendor, the sound of aledge-bells,
and the sight of huge mountains of snow, help to heighten
tho effect of a romance full of interest. As a long^^ou*
cooled mystery lies beneath the surface, we re&aio from
giving the ontlioes of the tale, lest it mar the Mat with
which our readers will eqjoy its perusal.
" Le Ficciniao " brings us back again to soft Sicilian
akioa, to the gardens, tho scenery, and the tweet indolonoo
of Southern life. In this novel, as in " Consnelo," the
desoriptions of out-door life in these favored regiuu is
most exquisite. TVe seem to hear the sweet music of
the Meditonmnean waves, tha singing of the nightingale.
l6 KOVSLS OF GBORGR SAND.
and to bnadia lli« perfomas of «iichaDt«d girdsni. Ooe
of Um moat moKrltabU pecolkritioi of Goorga Sand w
a writer, it tha faeililj wilh which ahe throws herself M
eonplatelf iato tha atmo^liara of each tbarj in aoccea-
woD, neiiiiDS equal!/ at home in all. The mwe m lUiu
of bar iinallaat atoriei, a* that of " Le Mara ao Diable,"
«r "Ganariira," ia ai tboroag^'lT 1° heaping wilh tha
oeeatton, aa it ia in tha longaat and moat alaborata of her
b **La Confeiaion d'mw Jeuw ElUe," a etiU mora qniet
^dara of coaDtT;f lifo ia painted, AH the intareat, and
it ia great, oomas from the Tibrationa of tha inner natnra
of tha heroine ; for, altliongh the plot Ia ikilfnlljr man-
aged, nad tlM other characters present strongi; marked
pecnliaritica, yet it is for the effect wliieh the/ produce
upon the derelopment of the beroine that tliej are of
vahia in tha stoiy. In this romance, we ban one of tha
ftw inalancea in which Ooorge Sand has erer crossed the
Xogliib ChaaiMl &r an addition to her dramatia ptnona;
bar genins la coatineatal, rather than insalar, and tboogh
in thla eaaa she doao not make a failnra in delioeation, jet
ahe falla short of complete soeceas.
** Laone Leoni," written in 1833^ while the anthor was
residing at yeniee,-is in our opinion the most otyootiOD-
abta of George Sand's lomaaoes. It ia an attempt to
deaeriba a masealine " Uanon Lescaot," and to sotyeet
to his eril dominion a feminine '* Daagrienz.'* Painted
with eoosommato skill, rich in all the eotors of her most
passionate pencil, the rarj lines flowing from her pen
with an the hoaejod awaetaesa of the language, wUeh
mat bar own ear aa she waa dreaming out her theme, —
toe wa know of no other instanes in which the nsnal
■bMealo «r tba FlFMdi ii M iata>{eMMwi «m\. vAAmA
NOVSLS OF GBORGS SAJTO. tj
bjrlhe loftTOwols of lbs Tnacaa, — 6«n!g« S«od Iim
prodocvd a mmaUrpioc* of psTchologiatl moa^pn^ but
one from wtiieh Um heut uid Uata «Uka nndL. It idbj
mil ba that such uUares hara existed, and done their eril
work, M hidooos dJieeici work borrible comptioa on the
iaiToet forma, but we doae oar ejet «s we paei thom,
nolesa it ia oar own ineritable teak to panae and labor to
alienate and conaole. Simply to examine cnrioaalj and
ToIuDtariljr would bo almost impossible, for most.
" Los maltrea Sonneon " is a breath of frcah air after
learing the fetid odors of the lasaretlo of " LeoM
Leoni." The change of scene brings about a change of
characters ; and, in returning to ber own weltlorod land
of Bern, George Sand once more restores us to Ibo
healthful oxygen of her favorite homo. Sho cnjojrs with
all her heart the societj of hor compatriots, and whether
in the close companionship of oqnal frioudships, or in
seekiog to nnderstand and to portray the idioajncrasiea
of the simplo but sturdy peasantry around her, she der
lights to gire to the Berrichons the titles of comrades and
of friends. In this pretty story of " Les maitres Sod-
neurs," the author's love and knowledge of music come to
the sur&ce, and mingle with artistic effect in hor delinea^
tion of tho character of Josef ; and in Brulette we hare one
of those gentle but ferreut and self-sustained feminine
natures, which wait with silent patienoo through the ar3
days, and bear without elation the vindication which time
ia sore to bring.
" Les maitres Mosaistes " is a talo of Tenetian life
in the time of Titian and Tintoretto. While these
great painters were placiog upon canvas the maalei^
pieoes that the world has ever since delighted to
honor, osrtain other aitiata were bnsy in bringing to
18 JfOVSLS OF GBORGE SAUD.
perftotkn iha sister«rt of mowio puDtiog. Among
theM wen tbe two wns of S«bud«n Znccftto ; ood the
■torj opeu with hii pfttbetie ngrots tlut hu waaa have
w«ttder«d from oil-puoliDg, the tine depertment of geoios,
into monio-working, which he reguda m below tho dig-
ni^ of the eitiet. Ho moonu orer tho &me they
mi^ bAT« WDQ OS pftinten, peniita in conudenDg them
U men utiMiu who can nover obtftin n reftl renown.
Tbe hiitory of their efiorts, their petient etnigglo egainst
Ii^Detiee from wilhont end treMhery within, thoir eof*
ftringa from the nupidooa aneltj- of the CooDcil of
Tenioe, tbe jeelooer of their brother ertists, end the in-
gratitude of one of their own popils, are all told with a
■kill which roreals the intricate workings of both the'
bolter utd the worse sides of the eitistio notore. lo
Franoeaco we haTO genius and taste in connection with
coneeientknu talent, which dieciplines and steadies all bis
efforts; In Tol&io, that form of genius which works
ywtaneouBly, but spasmodically, — fidling into carekssness
and neglect at one time, hut rising to the grondcnr of in-
qiiiation at another, and with a tmtb and nohill^ of
porpoee beneath, which ultimately obtain complete >d-
jsemoey. In the Bionchini we soe the hatred and jealons
mrj whidi often fonnd their way into the impnlsire
Italian artist^iatare when it was not softened, and purified,
and elevated by an ^preeiation of art for its own sake.
la Bona still another type of character Is presented,—
an insatiete dedre for fame, with on ovorweoning estimate
of bimaelf, prompting a reddess dlar^ord of all restraint
in Sjiekhg to make a reputation, and finally loading to
erima against tboae who stand In his way. There ore
admiraUa pfetoraa of the quaiat> derioes and adonunata
of Taaadaalifti tnwUBltnL'iVTi^&.^^EmvMk^^ihW—
ifoysLS or. gsosgs saxd. 19
ouled bat uiutciwI ^miu^ of Um Conndl of Tea, tad
of the BubtU muuwr in whidi Ait, at that period of
Italian history, yroM interwoven with the public and pri-
vate ofiun of all the citixena.
la ititnis contratt to thoee romanoei in whidi the lore
of nature or the lore of art is made i^ paroot, we maj
mention " Horace," in which the picture of aooal and
artificial existanoo ii portrajred, as deaiij and mirif riMriiTtj
as if the author had apeat a tifetime in its atodj. Of the
aucceu which crowned hct efforts, perii^w the moat cob-
eiae eridcnco may be Aimishod from the piquant prttken
which accompanies the second edition of the noreL <* it
must be that Horace ropresonts a modom type, Torjr fiutb-
ful and very wide-spread, for tliis Iwok baa made for me
a doscn wcll-condidoQad enemies. Voa^ whose acquaint-
anca I do not possou have pretended to roco^ize them-
aelves in it, and have colled down curses upon mie fw
having so crnclly unrotled them. I, howerer, repoat beie
what I said in mj first preface, that I have made taj
sketch from no person whatever, but have taken it fi«m
evcTTwhcre and from nowhere." It is, in simple fact,
life-like in such interior and mbtle fashion, that one maj
well tremble at the contemplation of a personalitj to
intense, a selfishness so deep and ingrained as to often
permit of utter unconsciousness on the part of its po^
aossor, an affectation of Tirtue so exquisite as to pass
current even with its owner's moral sense. When enough
of youthful froahncsB, of oHginal talent, of cultivated
taste and of fascinating grace combine to make a Bonut^
he will have admiring and devoted friends, himkble woi^
shippers, and solf-eacrificing adheionta. The kej^iote of
the book is touched in its opening sentence,— "noes
JO NOVELS OF GSORGS SAND.
fnmmM who inspire m with the greatest affeotioDi are nol
alwajs those whom we esteem the mosi.^
'^Antooia,^ whidi is the second in the series of
translations, takes its name from a flower, the growth
and blossoming of which enter into the plot of the
romance. Snggestire, in this way, of **La Tulipe
Nmre ^ of Dumas, it is quite unlike it in having for its
owner a rascal instead of a gentleman ; and so far firom
riTaUing the heroine in the affections of anybody, it
fiJls a victim to her first expression of admiration, and
bj a second flowering assists amiably at her restoration
to life and lore. The scene of the story is in Paris, the
time is in the last days of Louis XVI* ; and though the
Berolution is not prominently introduced, yet the disor-
ganising influences which preceded it help to form the
social atmosphere of the book. Much of George Sand's
contempt for and disbelief in the arbitrary distinctions
of sode^ are perceptible in it ; and she seems to take
pleasure in placing the affections of her heroine upon a
man on whom the great world would look down. The
diaracter of H. Antoine is of such a peculiar cast, so
made up of cruelty and kindness, of rerenge and gener-
osi^, of obstinacy and flexibility, as to almost defy
dassiflcation.
** Uonsieur SylTOStre,^ whidi is soon to follow ** An-
tonia,^ is a comparativdy recent production of the
aothor, and possesses some of the finest qualities of her
genius. In it George Sand gives expression to much of
the most modem fonn of metaphysiod research into the
human heart, and rehearses many of the tantalising
promises whidi tempt the mind into the region of
abetraot reasoning. The ibroe and vigor of her s^le
ave apparsal on evwy page,— the courage with whidi
NOVELS OF QRORQB SANXK %i
■be maeti and qneftionB the deep nqfitariee of Ub, the
doqoeiioe with whi^h she dieoonnee <hi eoloeete irikidh
lie neerest to the human eool, and the calm poeilifiaoei
with which she eondcmne delinqnenciee on whieh the
worid looks leniently, make of thie little 'irohnno a lU
mine of terious thought. Certainly the qoostiott, ** Whal
it hapi^nees?'* has seldom roeeiTod audi oxbanstivs
azamhiation under so attraetivo a ferm. Tho eontiaals
of character are admirably managedt Fierrei tbomjh
dreamy and delicately constituted} is yd praetaeal in
action and patient in onduranco; Fhilippei wbooi wa
know, as it were, chiefly at second hand, is stroog in
quiet sturdiness and good sense ; II. Sylrostra is genial
and trustworthy through all Lis eccentricities ; and llHe.
Yallier is wise in tho wisdom which comes throiigh dis*
cipline, and rich in qualities that dcrelop with the
demand upon them. Tho plot, although subordinate to
the philosophy of the book, is by no means insignificant.
George Sand's taste in the arrangement of details, and
conscientious core in regard to all accessories, are seen
in the pictures of country scones, in tho grouping of the
characters, and in even the minor indiyidualities which
pass across tho stage.
But it is in ^^ Lucrczia Floriani,'* as it seems to us,
that the genius and the poetry, tho analytic power and
the spiritual insight, the passion and tho concentration,
— in short, all the greatest of George Sand's intelleo-
tual and imagiaative qualities culminate into greatest
perfection. For sustained interest, for deep and subtle
pathos, for psychologic truthfulness, and for artistic
managomout of most carefully-selected material, we do
not know its equal, even among her works. It would
require more space than we con give to analyie and
99
NOVSLS OF GBORGS SAND.
daicribe its mmirdloiii power ; and it has this peonliarity
in oomiiMm with that which aooompaoies the experience
of tboio. meo and women who possess an exceptional
temperament— the J will be all or nothing to those abont
them* The charm of a work like ** Lucresia Floriani ^
is not one to receive nnirersol recognition ; bnt to those
to whom it speaks at all it brings a message, ererj sjl*
laUe of whidi is rich in meaning, and which can never
be forgotten. Bj soch it will bo studied with delight,
and treasured with jealous care ; by others it may, per-
haps, be read with oolj careless curiosity, from its sup*
posed eonnecUon wich the author's own experience, — a
conne ct ion which, as we hare endeayored to state most
emphatica Uy , is none other than that allowable to' a great
artist who seeks her material as the painter and the
sculptor choose theirs t the sunset belongs to the one, the
hnman frame to the other; and when they produce a
picture or a statue which delights the spectator, we find
in them no senrile copy of narrow imitation, but tiie
great facts of nature as seen through the idealism of art.
It will bo seen that an exhaustive examination of even
the surface-matter of Georgo Sand*s nor^ Is would require
a volume. TVe pause here, not because the subject les-
sens in interest, or because our pen is weary, but because
a proper limit has been reached, and enough, wo hope,
been said, to awaken renewed interest in this most
remarkable and frequently misunderstood woman and
artist. No one since Shakespeare has equalled her in
versatility ; no one over surpassed her in the fervor of
her efforts for the cause she loves; no one ever lived
down such an amount of pr<\)ndice, misunderstanding,
aadf we may add, so ma^y hasty and impulsive expres-
aioos of her own. If Bakao rivals hat in da^tflitiaiq^O^
r;
I
NOVELS OF GEORGE SAND.
»3
weaknesses and anacknowledged meannesses of tlie
human heart, and dissects with more sarcastic cookess
nerves and fibres that qoivoir as much with shame as
with agony, he cannot equal her in portraying those sen-
timents and awakening those emotions which arouse an
answering thrill in our own hearts, or which send ns
forth into the world to act a nobler and a less self-
centred part. If the lessons which she teaches do not
always fit the pattern of a narrow and long-established
sectarianism, -^ \t% in the revulsion of feeling under
experiences which few of us are called upon to bear^
and of temptations we are not required to resist becauso
they lie not in our path, she is sometimes irreverent
of long-worshipped social idols, — they are at least rich in
all the unselfish promptings of a ^nerous heart, in the
kindliness of a wide and sympathetic nature, and in the
appreciation of all the great efforts ever made for the
elevation of hnman nature and the freedom of tho
human souL
GEORGE SAND.
bt JUSTIN McCarthy,
Reprinted from «• Tk9 Galaxy*^ for liay^ 1870.
\1[7^ aro all of us probably incliDcd, now and then, to
waste a litllo timo in voguoly spcculatiDg on what
might havo happened if this or that particular ovont had
not given a special direction to the career of some great
man or woman. If there had been an inch of difTcrcnco
in the size of Cleopatra's nose ; if Hannibal had not lin-
gered at Capua ; if Cromwell had carried out his idea of
emigration; if Napoleon Bonaparto had taken service
under the Turk, — - and so on through all the old familiar
illustrations dear to the minor essayist and the debating
society, I have sometimes felt tempted thus to lose my«
self in speculating on what might have happened if the
woman whom all the world knows as George Sand had
been happily married in her youth to the husband of her
choice. Would she ever have taken to literature at all ?
Would she, loving as she does, and as Frenchwomen so
rarely do, the changing face of inanimate nature, — the
fields, the flowers and the brooks, — have lived a peace*
■ a GBORGS SAND.
fill ud obwnn lift in wme bi^ipf cooaby pUoa, Mid
btra oonlcnt with borne, and &mil]r, and love, and nerer
tboa^t of fiuM? Or iU thu happilj married, the atilt
bad allowed bor geniu to find an expreiuoo in liter-
•tnre, wonld ahe have written books with no paationate
pnrpoee in them, — books which might havo uomod
like thoea of a good Miia Mnloi^ made perfect, — booka
which Fodtnap might hare read with approval, and pnt
without a Bcmple into the hands of that modest Tonng
person, his daughter? Certainljr one cannot bat think
that a difierent kind of earljr life wonld have given a
quite difibreot complexion to the literary indiridoality of
QeorgeSand.
Bolwor Ljtton, in one of his novels, insists that tme
geniDs is always quite independent of the individoal sof-
Aringa or jojs of its possessor, and describes some
inspired yonth in the novel as sitting down, while sorrow
' is in his heart, and hanger gnawing at his vitals, to
throw off ft sparkling and gladsome little fiury tale,
ITow Hue is nndonbtedly troe. In general, of any high
order of genios ; bnt there are at least some great and
striking exceptions. Boossean and Byion are, in modem
days, remarkable illustrations of genius, admittedly of a
Tety high rank, governed and guided almost wholly by
the iodividnal fortones. of the men thonuetves. So, too,
nost we speak of the genius of Ooorge Sand. Kot
BoMissan, not even Byron, was in this sense more ego>
tistle than the woman who broke the chains of her ill-
aaeorted marriage with a crash that made its echoes
beard at last in eveiy civilised country in the world.
Joit aa people are constantly qootiog nout ovom dum^
iMrf esta who never read a page of Moliire, or jmkt «»•
mwn $ tr In Mrfrss without even bein( aiWU% ilMlaMunM
GSORGB SAIfD. . }
ti ft atofr of Toltain^a called " Cftodidfl,** m then Iwra
beoD thooaands of poasionato protesta altered m Amories
«ad Europe, for the lui twenty yean, by poople wbo
Dorer aaw a Tolume of G«orge Sand, and yot are ooly
eeboing her sentimonts and oven repcaUng her words.
In a fonnor numbor of Tha Ocdaxy, I oxprcaaod
carnally the opioloa that Goorge Saad ia probably lite
moat influcaUal writer of our day, I am still, and delib-
erately, of the aame opinion. It must bo rcmombcnd
that TOiy few English or American authors Iioto aoy
vide or deep influoDce ttvor peoples who do not speak
EDgUah. Even of the very greatest autliora this is tmo.
Compare, for example, tbe literary dominion of Shake-
epcaro with that of Cervantes. All nations who read
Shakespeare road Cer^'outcs: in Stratford-upoa-Avon
itself Don Quixote is probably as fainillnr a (iguro io
peoplo'a minds as FalslofT; but Shakespeare is little
known indeed' to the vast mnjority of readers ia the
country of Cerrantcs, in iho land of Daiilo, or in that
of Racino and Victor Hugo. Id something of the same'
way we may compare the influence of George Sand irith
that of oven the greatest living authors of England and
America. What influence baa Cliarlcs Dickens or
George Eliot outside the range of the Englisli tonguo ?
But George Sand's gouius has been full ns a power in
evciy country of the world where people read any man-
ner of hooka. It boa been Iblt almost as Rousseau's
once waa felt; it has aroused auger, terror, pity, or
vild and Fopturous excitement and admiration ; it has
rallied around it every lostinct in man or woman which
is rovolntionary ; it has rouged against it all that is coit-
ierrotive. It is not so much a literary influence as %
groat disorganising fbroe, riving the rocks of cnatom.
4 GBOJtGB SAJfO.
nMdvlog Into thotr origiul akmratt the Boatl combi*
. utioD whieh tndlUoD and coDTentioD would declare to be
Indlnolnble. I un not now spoftking marfilj' of the tea-
timoDU which George Sa&d doei or did eutertain od the
•object of nuuriago. Divostod of oU itartling ofibct*
ftsd IhriUiag dnunoUe iUaetratlou, thoee eoQlimeaU
probably unoimtod to nothing more dreadful than tho
belief that an nnwedded anion betwooa two peoplo who
lore and are true to each other u leai immoral than the
legal marriage of two uncongenial creatnrea who do not
lore and pnboblr are sot true to each other. But the
grand, lerolntionary idea which George Sand announced
WH that of the locial independonoa and eqnoUtj of
woman, — the principle that woman is not mode for man
in anjr other leDM than as man la made for woman.
7or iha flnt time in the history of tho world woman
^oka out for herself with a voice as poworAil aa that of
man. For the first time in the history of tho world
woman spoke out as woman, not as the serront, the
Mtellite, the pnpil, the plaything, or the goddess of man.
Kow, I intend at present to write of George Sand
nlber as on individual, or an inflnenco, than as the
•athor of certain works of fiction. Criticism would now
bo Buperflnoosly bestowed on the literary merits and
peenliarities of the great woman whose astonishing intel-
lectual activity has never ceased to produce, during the
last thirty years, works which take already a classical
place in French literature. If any roputalion of our ,day
nay be looked upon as established, wo may thus regard
the reputation of Ge«ga Sand, She is, beyond cont-
parisoo, the greatest liring novelist of Franco. She hat
won this poaiiion by the ntoet legitimate application of
the gifts of oa artist, With all her morveUous feeandi^,
eaosGs SAND. 5
dw bw hwdlj' OTW girai to th« world ujr woik wbieh
dooi not Mem, at loMt, to ban boea tba mbject of tbo
mott eUborato tnd patient core. The grootosl tempte-
tion wbieb triei a itorj-tellcr is perhaps Ibe tcmptatioD
to roljr oa tho atlractircnoM of atoiy-toUiog, and to pay
liulo or no attantion to •(710. Walter ScoU't prose, fiv
example, if regarded at mora proM, is nunbliog, irro^
nlar, and almost wortkless. Dickons'* prose is as bad a
model for imitation as a mosieal porfermance which is
out of tono. Of coarse, I need bardlj sajr that attention
to itjrle is almost as diaraeteTistie of French aathors in
genera], as tho lack of it is charactaristie of English
anthon ; bat, eren in Franca, the prose of George Saod
stands out coospicnoas for its wonderful cxpressiveneas
and force, its almost perfect beauty, Tlien, of all
modem French authors, — I might, perhaps, say of all
modem Dovolists of any country, — George Sand has
added to fiction, has annexed from tho worlds of rcali^
and of imagination tho greatest number of original char>
acters, — of what Emerson calls now organic creations.
Moreover, George Sand is, after IlousAeau, the ono only
great French author who has looked directly and 1ot<
ingly into tho face of Nature, and leomod the secrets
which skies and waters, fields and lanos, can teach to
tho heart that loves them. Gi(ls such as those hare won
her the almost unrivalled place which she holds in living
literature ; and she has conquered at last even the pnblio
opinioD which once detested and proscribed her. I
could therefore hope to add nothing to what has been
already said by criticism ia regard to her merits as a
novelist. Indeed, I think it probable tliat the minority
of readers in this country know more of George Sand
tbrongh the intorpretatlon of tb« critics than throngh tha
$ GKORGS SAND.
psgM of ber books. And In hw cu* criticism is so
Bcsriy nnuiiiDOU M to her literary merits, that I m&jr
Bslslj Msama the pnblio in geoenl to Iwts ia their
minds » jut reoognition of her poeitioa ss ft norelist.
Uy oliJMt is nther to t»j something «bont th« pUce
-wliidb Gwrge Sand has taken as a social leTolatioiiist,
nboat the ioflDsnee she has so long exercised over the
worid, and abont the wonum herself. For she is assor-
•dlj the greatest champion of woman's rights, in one
•ense, that the world has ever seen ; and she is, on the
other band, the one woman ont of all the world who has
been most commonly pointed to as the appalling example
to scare donbtnil and fluttering womanhood back into iu
sbeapfold of snbmissivonosa and convontionalitjr. Tbere
Is bardljr a woman's heart anywhere in the cirilisod
worid which has not felt tbo vibration of Goorge Sand's
^fci-aiitig Toice. Women who' never saw one of her
books, — naj, who never heard even her nam de pluma,
bavo been Mirred bj emotions of doubt or fear, or repin-
ing Ar ftmlHtion, which they never would bare known
bat ibr Oeorga Sand, and perhaps but for Goorgo Sand's
naeoogenial marriage. For, indeed, there is not now,
aad has not been fbr twenty yean, I venture to think, a
nn^ "revolutionary** idea, as slow and steady-going
poople would call it, afloat anywhere in Europe or Amer-
kn, on the snbjoct of woman's relations to man, society,
•ad destiny, which is not due immediately to the influence
of George Sand, and to the inflncitce of George Sand's
nnbi^ipy marriage upon George Sand herself.
The worid has of late years grown osed to this extrik
Ofdinaiy woman, and has lost much of the wonder and
twror with which it ones regarded her. I can qnite
nmsmbar,— yoongsr peopk than I can renenber,-*
GSORGS SAND. 7
tbe dma when kH good Kud proper peraooftgee ia En^
Und regarded the ftnthoreu of ** Zodiaaft " &■ a eort of
feminiae fiend, endowed with a hideooa pow«r fi>r the
deitnictioa of souls, aod en inextingnuhable thirst for
tbe dftnghtor of nrtnoni beliob. I fancj a good deal
of this sentiment was duo to tbe ftorful reports woftod
across the seas, that this terrible woman bad not morel/
repndiatod the marriage bond, bnt had actually put ofiF
tbe garments sacred to womanhood. That George Sand
appeared in men's clothes was on outrage upon oons^
crated proprieties Ux more astonishing than anj theo-
retical onslangbt upon old opinions could be. Beformen,
indeed, should always, if they oro wiso la their gonoi^
ation, have a core of tho projnieties. Many worthy poi^
pie can listen with comporatiTO fortitude when sacred
and eternal truths are assailed, who aro stricken with
horror when tho ark of propriety is never so lightly
touched. George Sand's pantaloons were, therefore,
regarded as the most appalling illustration of George
Sand's wickedness. I well remember what excitemo&t,
scandal, and horror wore created in tho provincial town
where I lived, some twenty years ago, when the editor
of local FaDJaodnim (to borrow Hr, Trollope's word)
insulted tbe foolings and tho morals of liis constitucnta
and Bubscribera by polluting his pages with n translation
from one of George Saod's shorter novels. Ah mo 1 tho
little novel might, so fur ns morality was concerned,
have been written every word by Uiss Fhelps, or tho
authoress of the "Heir of Bodcliff"; it bod not a word,
from beginning to end, which might not have been read
oat to a Sunday-school of . girb ; -the translation was
made by a woman of the purest soul, and, in her own
locality, of the highest name ; and yet bow virtue did
S GSORGB SANO.
■brittk oat againat tlitr pnblicfttion I Tha editor perM-
Tared in iho pnbliBhing; of the noToI, Bporred on to bold-
BaM hy KHae of his xwj jronng aod therefore fearless
coadjutors, who thoaght it dolightAil to confront pnblio
ftpioira, and liked the notion of the atara in their cotinoi
fluting against Sisera, and Sisera not being dismayed.
That diarmtng, lender, touching little story 1 I would
anbmit it to-dajr eheerfally to the verdict of a jnrj of
matrons, confident that it wonid be declared a fit and
proper pnblication. Bnt at that time it was enongh that
the itoiy bore the odious name of George Sand ; public
opiaioD condemned it, and sent the magaiiaa which Tcn-
tnred to translate it to an early and dishonored grave. I
nmember reading, about that time, a short notice of
George Sand by an English authorcu of some taleol
aad cnltnn, in which the Frenchwoman's novels were
daiaribod as so abominably filthy that even the douiaena
of tba Paris brothels were ashamed to be caught rea^
ing them. How, this declaration was mads all in good
&)lb, iit the Hinple good &itli of that class of persons
■wh» wiU pass wholesale and emphatic judgment npon
works of which they have never read a single page.
For I Doed hardly tell any intelligent person of to-day
that, whatever may be said of George Sand's doctrines,
du is no mora open to the charge of indelicai^ than tha
aathoraas of '* Bonx>la.'* I cannot, myself, ramambar
any passage in George Saad'a novels which can be called
ipdalicata; and, indeed, her aevereat and moot hoatila
critics are fond of aaying, not without a certain justice,
that one of the worat eharacteristics of bar works is the
delica^ and beauty of bar alyle, which thus comraenda
to pure and hinoeaat minds certain doetrinea that,
bnadly stated, would r^^ and abock them. Were I
GBORGS SAND.
• 9
ODO of George S«od*f inveterata opponents, thia, or
■omething like it, is the groond I would take op. I
would say : ** The welfare of the human familjr demands
thai a marriagei legally made, shall never bo questioned
or undone. Marriage is not a union depending on love
or congeniality, or any such condition. It is just as
sacred when made for money, or for ambition, or for
lust of the flesh, or for any other purpose, LowcTer ig-
noble and base, as when contracted in the spirit of the
purest mutual love. Hero is a woman of great power
and daring genius, who says that the essential condition
of marriage is love aud natural fitness; that a legal
union of man and woman without this is no marriage at
all, but a detestable and disgusting sin. Now, the more
delicately, modestly, plausibly she can put this revolu-
tionary and pernicious doctrine, the more dangerous she
becomes, and the more earnestly we ought to denounce
her." This was, in fact, what a great many persons did
say ; and the protest was at least consistent and logical.
But horror is an emotion which cannot long live on
the old fuel, and even the world of English Philistinism
soon ceased to regard George Sand as a mere monster.
Any one now taking up ^^ Indiana," for example, would
perhaps find it not quite easy to understand how the
book produced such an eficct. Our novel-writing women
of to^y commonly feed us on more fiery stuff than this.
Not to speak of such accomplished artists in impurity as
the lady who calls herself Ouida, and one or two others
of the same school, we have young women, only just pro*
moted from pantalettes, who can throw you off such glow*
ing chapters of passion and young desire as would make
the rhapsodies of *^ Indiana" seem very feeble milk-and-
water brewage by comparison. Indeed, except for some
lO GSORGB SAND.
of iba dawriptiou in th» opming ebapion, I fail to'wa
maj eztnordiDuy merit in " Jndianft " ; utd towwd the
•od it Menu to me to grov Terboae, weak, and tireaomo.
** Leooe Xreoni " opens with one of the floeat dramatio
outbonta of emotion koown to the literature of modem
Action ; but it aoon wanden awajr into diacnrsiTO weak^
aett, and onl; JuU toward tho cloee brightens op into •
bunt of lurid splendor. It ia not those which I maj call
the questionablo noreb of Qoorge Sand, ^ tho norels
"Which war* beUored to illustrate in naked and appalliog
nmplicilj her doctrines and her life, — (hat will boar up
Imv &ma through succeeding generations. If orery one
of the noTels which thus in their time drew down tho
thunlers of Society's denunciation were to be swept into
the waDet wherein Time, accoiding to Shakespeare, car-
ries serapa for obliTion, George Sand would still remain
whan she now Is, — at the haad of the French flctioD of
bar daj. It ia tmc, as Oootho sajs, that " mirado-
working i»ctnres are rarely works of art." The books
■which make the hair of tho rospootabla pnbUo stood on
flod ai* not oflon tho woriu bj whioh tho fluna of tha
Mrtbor b prosorrod Ibr poatoritj.
It Is a ourioDs fkct that, at the oorlj timo to which I
bwa bean alluding, Uttlo or nothing was known in En(f*
land (oTt I prosnma, In America) of the roal Ufa of
Anma Amandina Dopin, who had boon jdeoaod to call
barsalf Oaorga Sand. People know, or had hoard, (hat
•ha had aa p aratcd from her husband, that she had writ-
ten DOrels which depredated tho aancti^ of legal nup>
riaga, and that aha sometimes won male eostomo in tha
■Iras tt . This was anongh. In England, at least, wa
«am laady %i Iniar any %ootaatj rsgarding a woman
ute WW nuomid oa lb* bgal maniage qoastkn, and
G30XGS SAJflt,- IS
iibtt did not WMT pettiooaU. What wonld lutTS bean
nid hod poopla thea conunonl; known half the itories
which wore drcnhUad in Fftri*, — half tho cxtimTaguices
into which ft pmionata oonl, and the itimnlns of suddea
enoncipa^oa from nstroint, hod hniried the oathoresa
of "Indiana" and "X<acrezia Floriani"? Forit must be
owned that the life of that woman was, in iu eoiiier
ToarSf a stranga and wild phenmnenon, hnrdl; to bo com-
. prehended, perhapa, hj ABWrieao or En^h natona. I
bare heard George Sand bitterlf omugncd cvca b/
.. ponona who protoated that thej wcro at one with her at
i«gards the oarlj aentimcots which naod to oxcita each •
odium. I have heard her doacribed hj luch aa a aort of
Lamia of litorotura and paosion, ^ a creature who could
Hiza some noble, generoDS, youthful heart, drain it of ita
lovo, its aspirations, its profonndest emo^ons, and then
fling it, aqueezcd and lifeless, away. I have board it
declared that George Sand mode **copf " of tho fierce
and passionate lovos which ahe know so well bow to
awaken and to foster ; that she distilled iLo life-blood of
youth to obtain tJio nuxtnro out of which she derived bor
inspiration. The cliorgo so commonly (I think ui\justl/)
mode against Goethe, that lie plnyod with the girlisli lovo
of Bettina and of others in order to obtain a subject for
literal^ dissection, is vebomcntly and doliboratcljr iup>d
in an aggravated form, — in many oggravolcd forms, —
against George Sand. Wbcro, such accusers nsk, is that
young poet, endowed with a lyrical genius rare indeed in
the France of later days, — that young poet whoso ima^
ination was at once so daring and so subtle, — who might
have been Bfiranger and Hoino in one, and have risen to
on atmosphere in which neither Stronger nor Heine evvr
floated? Where is he, and what otQ influence was it which
It GSORGS SAND.
Mppad the ttreDgth of his natorei oorrupCed his geniua,
and prepMred for him a prematoro and shameful gnure?
JWhere is that young musician, whoso pure, tenderi and
loftjr strains sound swoetljr and sadljr in the earS| as the
Tsrj hjmn and musio of the Might-Have-Bconi — where
is he now, and what was the seductive power which
made a plaything of him and then flung him away?
Here and there some man of stronger mould is pointed
out as one who was at the first conquered, and then
deeeifed and trifled with, hut who ordered his stout heart
to bear, and rose superior to the hour, and liTod to
ret rie ve his nature and make himself a name of respect ;
hot the others, of mote sensitive and perhaps flner organ-
iiatione, are only the more to be pitied because they were
so terribly in earnest. Seldom, even in the literary his-
tory of modem France, has there been a more strange
and shocking episode than the puUication by George
Sand of the little book called **Elle et Lui,** and the
r^oinder to it by Fkul de Musset, called «« Lui et EUe."
I can hardly be accused of straying into the regions of
private scandal when I speak of two books which had a
wide dreulation, are still being read, and may be had, I
presume, in any New York book-store where French lit-
erature is sold. The former of the two books, ** She
and He,** was a story, or something which purported to
be a story, by George Sand, telling of two ill-assorted
beings whom fate had thrown together for awhile, and
of whom the woman was all tenderness, love, patience,
the man all egotism, selfishness, sensuousness, and eccen-
tricity. The point of the whole business was to show
how sublimely the woman sufibred, and how want<mly
the man flung happinees away. Had it been merely a
piece of fletioo, it must have been regarded by any
OSORGS SAND. Xj .
bwlth/ aditd M ft morbid,' nnriwktoine, diMgiWMtbl*
prodactioii, — « lioof thehigliMt Brt l m i e Idnd agunst
tniB ut, whkb mnat tlwaji, ovon in iu pKtbos and Its
tnmdTi lewn ob tbi mind oxftltwl ud dolishtfiil impi in i
riou. Bat vnrj ckw in Fuii at onoo bailed tbe ifany
u ft du{)tar of uitobiognipbjr, m Um ulthoi'* Tindication
of DOS «piaod» in bar own caner, — a Tindication at the
•ccpeua ti a man who had gone down, niined and lost,
to an taAj grave. Tberafiora tha brothor of the dead
man flung into literatoia a HtUe book caOad " Ha and
Sba," in which a ttor^, whatantially the moo in ite out-
lines, i« M UM as oxftodjr to ravorao tha conditions nndar
whidi tha reidict of pnblio opinion was son^t. Ytrf
carious indeed was tho manner in which tha same anb-
stance of facts was mode to [vesent the two principal
figures with complexions and characters so strangalj
ollATBd. In the woman's book tho woman was made the
patient, loring, safforing rictim ; in the man's replj this
same wonuo was depicted as the most atterlj ealfish and
depraved creature the human imagination could conceive.
Even if one had no other means whatever of forming an
estimate of the character of George Sand, it would be
hardly possible to accept as ber likeness the hideous pio
tare itched by Faul de MusseL No woman, X am glad
to boliovo, ever ozistod in real Ufo so ntUrly selfish, baao,
and wicked as bis bitter pen has drawn. I mtist say that
the thing is very cleverly done. Tho picture is at least
consistent with itself. Ab a churactor in romance it might
be pronounced ori^nal, bold, briUiont, and, in an artistio
sense, quite natural. Thore is something thraou^y
French hi the easy and delicata force of the final loach
with whidi da Mniset dismisses his hideous suljeota
Having sketched this womao in tints that snnm to flami
GBORGS SAND.
the €jet of the reader,— haTing described with
^fooderfbl feeliam and power her affectation, her deceit,
Imt xeckleai Caprices, her base aad cmel coquetries,
• Imt denmring wantopnesa, her sool-deatroTiiig arts, her
vmitteraUe seMshness and egotism, — having, to use a
wolgar phrase, **tumed her inside out,** and told her
flioij badnfaids, — the author cahnljr explains thai the
kero of the nanratiTe in his djing hour called his brother
to his bedside, and eigoined him, if occasion should erer
arise, if the partner of hb sin should erer calumniate
Um in his grave, to vindicate his memory, and avenge
the lieasoo practised upon him. ** Of course,** adds the
Barrator, ^ the brother made the promise, ^ and I have
iriaee heard that he has kept his word.** I can hardlj
kope to convex to the reader any adequate idea of the
•ffsct produced on the mind bj these few simple words
of co mp r ess ed, whiqmed hatred and triumph, closing a
philippie, or a revelation, or a libel of such extraordinaiy
Uttemess and ferodtf. The whole episode is, I believe
aad eamestlj hqpe, without precedent or imitation in
Ulerarj oo ntro v ersy. Never, that I know of, has a living
woman been puUidjr exhibited to the world in a por*
traitore so hideous as that which Paul de Musset drew
ofGeorgeSand. Never, that I know of, has any woman
gone so near to deserving and justifying such a measure
of rstaliation.
Forif itbe assumed,— and I suppose it never has been
dilated,— that hi writing ^^EUeetLui** George Sand
msam to describe herself and Alfred de Musset, it is hard
to conceive of any sin against taste and feeling, — against
,art and morals,— more flagrant than such a publication.
The praetiee, to which French writers are so much ad*
aielidy of making **oopj* of the private lives, charae*
Q30RGS SAXO.
«S
tan, ud raUtioodupa of UtsmnlTM aai thdr friuid*,
Mtiini to ma iu aU cum ntterlj dataatabls. Lamrtina'a
du of this kind wim grisTona and glaring ; bat wero
tbar red u acftriet, thaj would aeem whiter than snow
wbeo oompar«d with tho lurid monatroait^ of Georgo
Sand's Bsaanlt on th« latmorj of tho dead post who wma
ooea bar brorito. ^M wbolfl a&ir, indeed, ia ao tuUika
aaything which could occur in America or in England,
that we can haidljr find anj canooa bf which to trj it, or
any Btandard of puniahmeot hj which to ragalate ita coo-
aure. X allnde to it now becanM it is the onl/ anbataa-
tial aridence I know of which does fsirlj aeem to jostify
the wont of the accusations bronght agunst George Sand ;
and I do sot think it right, when writicg for grown man
and women, who are supposed to hoTo sense and judg-
ment, to afibct not to know that such accosations ora
made, or to pretend to think that it would be proper not
to allude to them. Thof bavo been put forward, replied
to, nrgsd ogun, made tho tbamo of oil manner of contn^
versj' in scores of French and in some English publica-
tions. Pn,y let it be distinctly understood that I am not
entering into an; criticism of the morality of anj part of
George Sand's prirate life. With that wa hara nothing
here to do. I am now dealiag with the question, foirlj
belon^og to publio controTers7, whether the great artist
did not deliberate]/ deal with human hearts as tho palnt«r
of old is said to have dona with a purchased slave, — !».
flicting tortura in order the better to learn how to depict
the struggles and oontortiona of mortal ogonj. In oit-
swer to such a question X con onljr point to " Z<neroua
Horiani " and to ** Elle at Lui," and saj that unless tho
universal opinion of qualified critics be wrong, tbeae books,
•ad others too, owa their piqoascj aod their dnoutie
l6 GBORGS SAND.
•
fytm to tho ■Datomitation of dead paasions and discarded
lovers. Wo have all laaghed over the pedantio aorgeon in
Uoliire^a **Malade Imaginaire/* who invites his fianeUf
aa '• delightful treat, to see him dissect the body of a
' ^vranaiu I am afraid that George Sand did sometimes
invite an admiring pnblio to an exhibition yet more
(^lastly and revolting,^ the dissection of tho heart of m
dead lover.
But, in truth, we shall never judge Greorge Sand and
hn writings at all, if we insist on criticising them from
any point of view set up by tho proprieties or even tho
moralities of Old England or New England. When the
passionate young woman, ^ in whose veins ran the wild
blood of Uarshal Saxe,^ found herself surrendered by
legally and prescription to a marriage bond against which
bar soul revolted, society seemed for her to have resolved
itself into its original elements. Its conventionalities and
traditions contained nothing which she held herself bound
to reject. The world was not her friend, nor the world's
law. By one great decisive step she sundered herself
Ibrever from tho bonds of what we call ** society •'^ She
liad shaken tho dust of convention from her feet ; the
world was all before her where to choose. No area-
tore on earth is so absolutely free as tho Frenchwoman
who has broken with society. There, then, stood this
daring young woman, on the threshold of a new, freshy
and illimitable world; a young woman gifUd with
genius such as our later years have rarely seen, and
blessed or cursed with a nature so strangely uniting the
BMSt charaeteristio qualities of man and woman, as to be
in itself quite unparalleled and unique. Just think of
it, — try to think of iti Society and the world had no
hmgtt any laws whidi'she recognised. Nothing was
OSORGB SAND. 17
MCTsd i Dodungiru Nttled. She hid to «TolTe firom ber
ownbeut «ndbnuibor ownbwof liA. 'Whstwonder
if all* made soxh ud mistdcu? "Sajt ii it not nUher •
thsnw for wonder and odmirfttioa tluU ibe did Mnaohow
coma rigbt at laat? X know of no ono who aeema to me
to ban boen open at once to tbe tomptationa of woman'a
Batora and sian's natoro, except thia Georse Sand. Her
aoal, — her brainy— bnetjlema; bo deacribod, from ona
pmot of view, as axnberantljr and aplendidlj femiDino ;
jet no other woman bai evor ihown tbe same power of
^ ondentandingt and entering into (ho satnre of a man. If
Balzao ii the onljr man who baa eror tboroogbl; nutsterad
the mysteriei of a woman's' heart, George Sand is tbo
only womaot 80 far 0* I know, who haa oror shown that
she could feel as a man can fecL I haro road itraj pa»>
sages in her novels which I would confideoUf submit to
the criticism of anj iotoUigent men nnocquaintcd with
the text, convincod that thej would declare (hat only «
man conld have thus analyzed tbe cmo(ions of manhood.
I hare ia m,j mind, just now espociallf, a poasago in tho
novel " Picciniao " which, were the authorship unknown,
would, I am satisfied, secure the decision of a jury of lit-
erary experts (hat (he author must be a man. Xow thia
gid of entire appreciation of tbe feelings of a difibront
sex or race is, I take it, ono of (he rarest and highest
dramatic qoalities. Especially is it difficult for a woman,
as oar social life goes, to enter into the feelings of a man.
While men and women alike admit tbe accuracy of oop>
tain pictores of women drawn by such artists as Cer>
Taa(es,. Moliire, Balzac, and Thackeray, there are fisw
women,— indeed, perhaps there are no women but one, —
by whom a man has been so painted as to challenge and
compel the reoognitkm and ackoowlMlgnMnt of loen. Iq
tS • esOSOS SAND.
** Tba Oila^," acnne aonlha Bgo, I wrote of s grsit
Eu^iihwoauD, tba antborcM of *' Bomok," aud I •!•
priwi mj ooDTietion tlud on th« vbola alM U entilled to
hi^^er nnk, u > Borslut, than ervn tlio anlhonu of
**Coiwm1o.'' .Muj, Tsrj inaar men and women, fiw
wboM Jodgmeot I lum the hlj^hert napoct, diflarod
fioiB ma in this opinioo. I atill hold it, nevartbelcM ;
bat I fiaalj admit thai Goorgs Eliot has nothing like the
dramatie intight whieh eoablee George Saad to enter into
Aa fealinga and ezperiencea of a man. I go n far as to
mj ihati haring some knowledge of the literalnre of
flrtloo in moat eonntries, I am not aware of tho ozistenoa
of aoj woman bat this one, who oonld draw a real, liviog,
Itrag^^nig, passion^oitared man. All other noTeliata c^
George Sand's sex, — eren indnding Chariotto Bronte, ^
draw odIj what I maj call " women's men.* If ever tba
two natareo Mold be naltad in on* foTm,^if ever a
ikof^ human being eoald have the aonl of man and ibo
•ool of woman at once, — George Sand might be de-
acribed as that phTsical and psTchological phenomenon.
Now the point to which I wish to direct attention, is tbo
peCBliariljr of tba temptation to which a nature inchasthia
was neOMoarilj expoeed at everj turn when, free of all r»*
strmint and a rebel against all oonrentionalitj, it confronted
the world and the worid'a law, and stood np, itself alone,
against tba do min alioa of easlom and the majesty of tra*
ffition. I claim, then, that when we have taken all these
oonsidsntioaa into aeooaat, wa are botmd to admit that
Anrora Dodavant dsaa i ies the generous recognition of
Oaworid fbr the «sa wbkb she made of ber sideadid
^fia. H« inftwiwa oa Fkwteh liiantnra has bean, on
wgtbwtBf powar. Tba
GEORGE SAJOK
«9
gtfd of any muuier of principle, the <Wietmg pernde of
jjltH^**^ in any hi j^ier poipoee or nobler vestrminl, whidi
ere the aheme end cone of modem VnoA fletion, find
BO eenction in the pegee of George Send. I remember
BO peasege in her woito which givee the elig^test enooor-
egemeni to the " nothing new, end nothing troe, end it
don't aignify" code of ethics which hee been so mnch in
frahion of kte yeere. I find notlung in Gewge Send
w hich doea not do homege to the eriatence of a principle
end e lew in ererfthing. Thia daring women, who broke
with aocietjr ao eeiiy end ao conapieooiialy, hea elwaje in*
aiated, throii|^ CTCiy iDnstretion, character, end ceiee*
trophe in her hooka, that the one onlj reeli^, the one onlj
thing that can endure, ia the rule of right and of virtae.
Nor has she erer, that I can recollect, fallen into the en«
feebling and sentimental theory so commonlj expressed in
the works of Victor Hugo, that the yagae abstraction
sode^ is always to bear the blame of the fanlts commit-
ted by the indiyidoal man or woman. Of all persons in
the world, Aurora Daderant might be supposed most likelj
to adopt this easy and complacent theory as her guiding
principle. She had every excuse, eyery reason for en*
deayoring to preach up the doctrine that our errors are
sodet/s and our yirtues our own. But I am not aware
that she oyer taught any lesson s^ye the lesson that men
and women must endeayor to be heroes and heroines for
themselyes, heroes and heroines though all the world else
were crayen, and weak, and selfish, and unprincipled.
£yen that wretched and lamentable '* Elle et Liii'* afiair,
utterly inexcusable as it is when we read between the linee
its secret history, has, at least, the merit of being an earn-
est and powerful protest against the egotistical and debae*
lug indulgence of moral weaknessee end eecentrieitiee
JO GBOKGS SANO,
•mtiA DMui and Tolgsr mindt tn ^ to nprd m tha
frivOqs of ganiw. " Stand upon jonr own gnnmd ; be
yoar own mlor ; look to jrotmalf, not to joor atan, for
TQor faQora or aiiGceu ; alwsja maka four ataadard a
loftj ideal, and trj penistentlj to reach it, thongb all the
temptationa of -earth, and all tha power of darkneia ttriia
againat]ron"^thia, and nothing elie, if I hare read her
booka ri|^j, ia tha moral tanght bjr George Sand. She
10*7 1** voBg in her principle aometimei, but, at leaat,
■be alwajs baa a principle. She hM a profound andgen-
arooa faith in the' poMibilitiaa of homan nntore ; in tha
flapaeitjr of man's heart for poritj, aelf-aacrifioo, and aelf-
ndemption. Indeed, ao &r ia ahe from holding ooonael
with wiUnl weakneaa or tin, that I think aha aometimea
ftSa into tha noUe error of painting her heroea as too
l^otiooa in their triumph orer tamptation, in their sabjn*
ptiooofarefjpMuoaandinteiQsttotha dictotea of dotf
and of honor. Take, for inatanee, that extraordinarjr
book which hat joat been given to tho American publio
b Ujm Virginia Yaugfaan'a excellent tranalation, " Uai^
pnL" If I mdentand that magnificent romance at all,
tta p ur port is to prore that no human nature is ever
plaagad into (amptation bejond ita own strength to renst,
proridad that it raallf wills resistance ; that no chnractar
ia {rratrieraUa, no error inezi»able, where there is ainoera
iMolra to axpiata, and longing desire to retriere. Taka,
again, that ezqniaite little stoij, " La Demi^ Aldini " ;
I do not know where one ooold flod a finer iUnatration of
tha entire saeriflee of man's nataral impulae, passion, ia-
tarest, to what nig^ almost be called an abrtract idea of
honor and prindpla. I ban navar read this litUe 11017
witboot wondsring how maj maa one arar has known
who, pliMd in the nma wHmOm m that tff Nallo, tha
GEORGS SAND. ai
lim, wodd lum dooe the aune Uung ; and jet to rimplf
end netiireUj ere the dierecten wroa|^ out, and the in-
cidents deecribed, Ihet the idea of ponqwus, dramatieedl^
MMTJficft nerer enters the mind of the reader, and it seems
to him that NeOo oooUL not do otherwise than as he is
dnng. I qpeak of these two stories partioilarijr, becaose
in both of them there is a good deal of the world and the
flesh ; that is, both are stories of strong human pasBion
and temptation, llanj of George Sand's novels, the
shorter ones e^MsdaUj, are as absohitelj pore in moral
tone, as entirelj firee firom even a taint or soggestion of
imparl^, as the j are perfect in s^le. Now, if we cannot
helpknowingthatmnchof this great woman's lift was fiur
from being irreproachable, are we not boond to give her
an the fuller credit, becaose her genius, at least, kept so
far the whiteness of its soul? Bo volutions are not to be
made with rose-water ; you cannot have omelettes without
breaking of eggs. I am afraid that great social revolu-
tionists are not often creatures of the most pure and per-
fect nature. It is not to patient Griselda jou must look
for anj protest against even the uttermost tjrannj of so-
cial conventions. One thing I think maj, at least, be
admitted as part of George Sand's vindication, — that the
marriage system in France is the most debased and debas-
ing institution existing in civilised society, now that the
buying and selling of slaves has ceased to be a tolerated
system. I hold that the most ardent advocates of the
irrevocable endurance of the marriage bond are bound, by
their Very principles, to admit that, in protesting against
the so-called marriage system of France, Greorgo Sand
stood on the side of purity and right. Assuredly, she
often went into extravagances in the other direction. It
■eems to be the &te of all French reformers to rush sod-
sa GEORGE SAND.
iasif to grtremes ; and we must remember that George ^
Sand was not a Bristol Qnakexess, or a Boston transcend-
eotalisti Imt a passionate frenchwoman, the descendant
of one of the maddest Totaries of lore and war who eirer
•tormed across the stage of European history.
Begarding George Sand, then, as an influence in litera-
tare, and on societji I daim for her at least four great
and special merits : First, she insisted on calling publio
attention to the true principle of marriage ; thatistosaj,
she put the question as it had not been put before. Of
eoorse, the fundamental principle she woidd hare enforced
is always being urged more or less feebly, more or less
sincerely; but she made it her own question, and illumin*
ated it hj the fendd, fierce rays of her genius and her '
passion. Secondly, her works are an exposition of the
tremendous reali^ of the feelings whidi people who call
themsdves practical are apt to regard with indifbrence or
eontempt as mere sentiments. In the long run, the pas*
skms dedde the life-question one way or the other, lliey
are the tide which, as you know or do not know how to
use it, will either turn your mlQ and float your boat, or
drown your flelds and sweep away your dwellings. life
and society receire no impulse and no direction from the
influences out of whidi the noreb of Dickons, or eren of
Thaduray, are made up. These are but pleasant or ten-
der tojring with the playthings and puppets of existence.
George Sand constrains us to look at the realities through
the medium of her flction. Thirdty, she insists that man
can and shall make his own career ; not whine to the
stars, and rail out against the powers above, when he has
weakly or wantonly marred his own .destiny. Fourth^,
^and this ou^t not to be considered her least senrice to
the Uteratore of her covntry,— she has tried to teach
i
GEORGE SAND.
n
pecq^ to lode fti Kaliire with theb own «JM, and to mrite
tho tnie lore of bor to flow into their hearts. The great
eenrioe whidi Boakin, with all his eceentricities and oz«
tramgonoes, has rendered to.EnglislHipeaking peofdes bjr
lesrhing them to nse their own ejes when thej look at
doods, and waters, and grasses, and hiDs, Gewge Sand
has rendered to IVanoe«
I hold that these are Tirtoes and sendees which
oo^t to outweigh eren Teiy grare personal and
artistic errors* We often hear that this or that great
poel or romanctst has painted men as thej are ; this
other as thqr ooght to be* I think George Sand paints
men as thejr are, and also not merelj as thej ooght to be,
bat as thej can be* The sum of the lesson taught bj
her books is one of confidence in man's possibilities, and
hope in his steadj progress. At the same time she is
entirelj practical in her faith and her aspirations* She
ncTer expects that the trees are to grow np into the
heayens, that men and women are to be other than men
and women. She does not want them to be other ; she
finds the springs and sources of their social regeneration
in the £Eict that thej are just what thej are, to bogin
with. I am afraid some of the ladies who seem to base
their scheme of woman's emancipation and equalit j on the
assumption that, bj some deyelopment of time or
process of schooling, a condition of things is to bo
brought about where difference of sex is no longer to bo
a disturbing power, will find small comfort or encourage-
ment in the writings of George Sand* She deals in
realities altogether ; the realities of life, eyon when thej
are such as to shaUow minds maj seem mere sentiments
and ecstacies ; the realities of sodetj, of suffering, of
passion, of inanimate nature* There is in her nothing
S4 GBOROB SAND.
mmeaBJngf notUiig untrue ; there if in her mnch error,
doohUestt but no sham.
I beliere George Sand ie growing into a quiet and
beastiftil old age. After a life of storm and stress, a life
whidi, metaphoricallj at least, was *' worn bj war and
passion,^* her closing jears seem likelj to be gilded with
the calm gloiy of an autumnal sunset* One is glad to
think of her thus happj and peaceful, accepting so
tranquiUj the reality of old age, still laboring with her
nwearied pen, still delighting in books, and landscapes,
and friends, and work* The world can well afford to
finget as soon as possible her literary and other errors.
Of the Tast mass of romances, stories, pUys, sketches,
criticisms, pamphlets, political articles, CTen, it is said,
ministerial manifestoes of republican daj's, which she
poured out, only % few comparatiTely will perhaps be
always treasured by posterity ; but these will be enou^
to secure her a classic place. And she wiU not be
remembered by her writings alone. Hers is probably
the most powerflil individuality displayed by any mod-
cm Frenchwoman. The influence of Madame Boland
was but a glittering unreality, that of Madame de
Sta^l only a* boudoir and coterie success, when com*
pared with the power eomroised o?er literature, human
feeling, and social law, by the eoergy, the courage, the
genius, eren the Tory etvoiu and titrafagaaees of George
Sand.
GEORGE SAND'S NOVELS.
L MAUPRAT. Trantlatcd bgr YuoiinA Yauobav.
IL ANTONIA. Translated hj ViioiirzA VAUOOAir.
m. MONSIEUR SYLYESTBE. Tranabtod . Iiff Fkavois
GaoBOB Shaw.
lY. L'HOMME DE NEIGE. (The Man of Snow.) Tnuiakted
by ViEoixiA Vauoiiasi.
(oniKUS I2f rasFABATiox.)
AMamiardlAhvry£k!UioH,uni/orml3fb(mmLmmiailH^ EmA
volumt told separaUljf, Prie€ $L60.
SOME NOTICES OF "MAUPRAT."
•«Aii admlnbto trmntUtlon. Ai to ^Maapntl,* with vhldi aevit Itobflrlf
BfoOicn Intioduct Um first of French noTelistt to tbo A M t rlco n pnbtte, if t fc ot n
nam ftoj doubts m to tieorgo 8antl*i power, It wonid Ibr owr Ml tbtm al wmat,
. . . Tbo object of the ftory U to ihow bow, bv ber (HdmH'ft) boMo natars, 1m
(lUapnt) is labsequ^ntlj traDsformed from a brut* to a mam ; bto momoI ps**
■loQ to a pure and bohr lore.** — Harper''t MomMy,
** Tbe excellcDce or Ororge Sand, m wo UDderetand It, Hei fai ber coamnbcs-
■loa of the piimlUvo elemcobi of mankind. She hu eeoqaered ber vaj into th«
buman beart, and whether It ie at peace or at war, la tbe fano to Imt ; for abo is
mUtreM of all Its moods. No wouiao before oTer painted tbe pasrione and tha
emotkme with such force and fldelicy, and with such consummate art. Whatever
tise she may be, she in always an artUt. . . . I/>Te Is the key-note of * Uauprat,*
— k>Te, and what It can acconipliiib In taming an otherwUo untamable splrii.
Tbe hero, Bernard Mauprat, grows up with hb uncles, who are practically ban-
dits, as was not uncommon with men of their clsM, In tbe proTlncee, before tbn
breaking out of the French ReTolution. He is a young parage, of whom tbe boat
that can be said is, that he is only lexs. wicked than hU relatires, becanee be lias
somewhere within him a sense of genrronity and honor, to which they are eoiiro
strangers. To sting this scnuo into actlTity, to detect the makings of a man In tbAs
brute, to maJte this brute into a man. Is the difficult problem, which Is worked
out by lore, — the lore of Bernard for his cousin Kdm^e, and hers for blm, — tbo
lore of two strong, pawiionate, noble natures, locked In a llfe-and-death straggU,
In wbieb tbe man is finally overcome by the unconquerable strength of woman*
hood. Only a great writer could hare described such a struggle, and only a greal
artist eould bsTS kept It within allowable limits. This George 9and has done, wa
think ; for her portridt of BemarU Is Timorous without being coarse, and ber aitn*
atloos are strong without beinic dangerous. Such, at least, is the Imp r ess i on wa
bare recelred from reoding ' Mauprat,' which, besides being an admirable etodj
of character. Is also a fine picture of French prorlnclal life and manners.*^ — Fmi»
nam^i Moniklf.
"Roberts Brothers propose to publish a series of transUtloos of Georga
Band's better noreb. We can hardly say that all are worth appearing In English ;
but It is certain that tbe ' better ' list will comprise a good many which are worth
traaslating, and among these b ' Mauprat,' — though by no means tbe best of
them. Written to show the possibility of constancy in man, a lore Inspired ba*
fore and continuing through marriage, It b itself a contradiction to a good manj
of the popular notions respecting the author,— who b generally supposed to ba
as Indifferent to the sanctities of the marriage relation as was her celebrated an*
ecstor, Augustus of Saxony. . . . The translation b admirable. It b seidoin tlial
ooe raids such good Bnglish In a work transbted from any language. Tbe new
Miles b Inaugurated In the best possible way, under tbe bands of uba Taucban.
and we trust that she may bare a great deal to do with Its oontinoanoa. It
li not erecy one who ean rsad Frsnch who can write Kn^isb so wsU.** ^OM
•mdNtw.
Sold eoerywhen. Mailed, po$tpatd, on receipi o/tki advertued priet,
ROBERTS BROTHERS^ Bostoh.
* Earthly ParadiM," more cspedaDj wltli relennn
to'Tbe LoToi of Gadnu."
to tlteH aid d (acMloa^ ad nek pkMN It ■ ■MWflMK-'^^
^ViMn d( MtlmJMt^AihtrHur:
■•T*« Lcf«* (f Ca^m' wBl torn ,
Ifawfa'it^ • - paw, nd of Ui (M af dtpiajaf lad
ioiat lad Mtyihy
nSrWXTMri
••n* imlpBMta IW baek k, Iwwrtr. ■ Th. L»« af Gadna.*
Ma iBan Ikal v* cm tnan far ■ laach liixn irtkl* thu tkia anald )■
I ■ ' I H f*M« >1 ■• k dmr ■■■ Wi (haU DM. Ibntn. tna al-
«BM la dn Uh bIm. It !• ■ u?. f? ., .,.i„,,„,,,
k. inii's. h»'i«t''i>orhi»('^i'"'AiriC
... — .. ri Baa-BaMliara okitfc viD laar ra-
id Ht Mr. U«t4. Haax iacapabla U i-ttibiat a
. Mh"! a.-M la haH faaixa l> kit uaai. (od
bmkanaf (:«<nia*a(nr>pvtar*lir. At far
<"th«Jliii7"|"'HM« j l I II Wt It ufT> >"r Ih^UihI uX iniinf [/ iKa
■M^atow hanaf iba all aha k unh. W* hara aal<r traifUhy fa>
"■n* IwImJc la«aad af 'ThaLvfn af (!■*»■ la, M Alak. dta
(mm paaiB af tint ua^aa Mriaa aad aafkapa ika ■■«•( af til that Mr.
Uviit kaa yal -ritMa. Il It Baal TMdhp aiaa q i aaa la aaaUiK la
Htaaty. aad ta M Wi Mtara aT diancMr. bJ It kt Iwk iMit litlfaw
a hkhar drwaric pnv ihaa b dMtjW >■ a^r Mkn pna aT ika t»-
ttarWa Mhak aa tmacB •« lUa ar an aUiiraf *a iMriiB. Ua^
<r !■ Boaa Ur. Mania lata mm* tnm hritf nad ia liB^ii mmmm,
Md anoint •fpta*r*at«ad Utah U"
■'TWZMUrPaadka' dieald ha fcaad la
bi i^ aad lanad. aad •*•■ laAnad ta. Walwa MWifbal M^M
ArdMaaaaWa paaia^ aad aa Ha aaair waarj la vdariaa: *a M»
Maaadia iladiiH Ilia tm^ taMta wfchh aaa SSAte aTs*
«taata*lp<iwafifeMmti't'Ia«Mr» ill,'"
M^aa^^ iHMr rMdIw- b^Md rpaMt a pMOT tM *!•
\
M
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OEOROB SAND9 NOVELS.
I. MAUPRAT. Trafulated by VixcmiA Vaucmak.
a. ANTON I A Translated by ViscmiA Vauchah.
y MONSIEUR SYLVESTRE. TnwsUted by Fkamos Gbokgb
Shaw. Price of each, $ 1.5a
The Character of Goorse Saod. By Justin M'Carthy. ''Take, for
Instance, that extraordinary book which hu iust been given to the Ameri-
can public in Miss Virginu Vaughan*s excellent translation, ' Mauprat.'
If I andcfstand that magnificent romance at all, its^ puiport is to prove
that no human nature is ever plunged into temptation beyond its own
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person of to-day that whatever may be said of Geocge Sand's doctrines,
she is no move open to the charge of indelicacy thui the authoress of
'Romola.' I cannot myself remember any passage in George Sand's
novels which can be called indelicate ; and indeed hier severest and moat
hostile critics are fend of saying, not without a certain justice, thst one of
the wont characteristics of her works is the delicacy and beauty of her
style, which thus commends to pare and innocent miiida certain doctrines
that, broadly atiated, would repel and shock them."
LEIGH HUNT.
A DAY BY THE FIRE, and Other Papen hitherto UncoDectod.
By LsioK Hinrr. In ooo volumo. i6ma doth, Mat Prieib
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CASIMIR MAREMMA. A NovnL
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