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THE IDOL OF PARIS

Her musical voice acted like a strange enchantment on the

astonished audience.

THE IDOL OF PARIS

A ROMANCE

BY

SARAH BERNHARDT

TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH BY

MARY TONGUE

NEW YORK
THE MACAULAY COMPANY

Copyright, 1922, by
THE MACAULAY COMPANY

PRINTED IN THE U. S. A.

CONTENTS
PART I

PAGE

Paris 9

PART II
Brussels .71

PART III
The Country . . . . . -139

PART IV
The ChAteau ...,*. 227

THE IDOL OF PARIS

PART ONE

PARIS

THE IDOL OF PARIS

CHAPTER I

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

The Darbois family consisted of Frangois Darbois,
professor of philosophy, a scholar of eminence and
distinction; of Madame Darbois, his wife, a charm-
ing gentle little creature, without any pretensions;
of Philippe Renaud, brother of Madame Darbois,
an honest and able business man; of his son, Mau-
rice Renaud, twenty-two and a painter, a fine youth
filled with confidence because of the success he had
just achieved at the last Salon; of a distant cousin,
the family counsellor, a tyrannical landlord and
self-centered bachelor, Adhemar Meydieux, and the
child of whom he was godfather, and around whom
all this particular little world revolved.

Esperance Darbois, the only daughter of the phi-
losopher, was fifteen years old. She was tall and
slim without being angular. The flower head that

II

12 THE IDOL OF PARIS

crowned this slender stem was exquisitely fair, with
the fairness of a httle child, soft pale-gold, fair.
Her face had, indeed, no strictly sculptural beauty;
her long flax-coloured eyes were not large, her nose
had no special character; only her sensitive and
clear-cut nostrils gave the pretty face its suggestion
of ancient lineage. Her mouth was a little large, and
her full red lips opened on singularly white teeth as
even as almonds; while a low Grecian forehead and a
neck graceful in every curve gave Esperance a total
effect of aristocratic distinction that no one could
deny. Her low vibrant voice produced an impres-
sion that was almost physical on those who heard it.
Quite without intention, she introduced into every
word she spoke several inflections which made her
manner of pronunciation peculiarly her own.

Esperance was kneeling on a chair, leaning upon
her arms on the table. Her blue dress, cut like a
blouse, was held in at the waist by a narrow girdle
knotted loosely. Although the child was arguing
vigorously, with Intense animation, there was such
grace in her gestures, such charming vibrations in
her voice, that it was impossible to resent her com-
bative attitude.

*'Papa, my dear papa,'' she was asserting to
Frangois Darbois, "You are saying to-day just the
opposite of what you were saying the other day to
mother at dinner."

Her father raised his head. Her mother, on the
contrary, dropped hers a little. "Pray Heaven," she

THE IDOL OF PARIS 13

was saying to herself, "that Frangois does not get
angry with her!"

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

"What are - you saying?" asked Francois Dar-
bois.

Esperance gazed at him tenderly. "You remem-
ber my godfather was dining with us and there had
been a lot of talk; my godfather was against allowing
any liberty to women, and he maintained that chil-
dren have no right to choose their own careers, but
must, without reasoning, give way to their parents,
who alone are to decide their fates."

Adhemar wished to take the floor and cleared his
throat in preparation, but Francois Darbois, evi-
dently a little nonplused, muttered, "And then after
that — what are you coming to?"

"To what you answered, papa."

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

Darbois attempted to speak. . . .

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

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

14 THE IDOL OF PARIS

"Yes, rebelled. And you added, 'My father cut
off my allowance for a year, but I stuck to it; I tutored
poor strdents who couldn't get through their examina-
tions, I lived from hand to mouth, but I did live, and
I was able to continue my studies in philosophy.' "

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

Esperance turned purple.

*'I repeat, children should obey without question!"

*'I hope to prove to my daughter by reasoning that
she IS probably wrong," said M. Darbois very quietly.

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

"Now, M. Meydieux," exclaimed the young pain-
ter, "it seems to me that you are going a little too
far. Children should respect their parents' wishes as
far as possible ; but when it is a question of their own
future, they have a right to present their side of the
case. If my uncle Darbois's father had had his way,
my uncle Darbois would probably now be a mediocre
engineer, instead of the brilliant philosopher who is
admired and recognized by the entire world."

Gentle little Madame Darbois sat up proudly, and
Esperance looked at her father with a world of ten-
derness in her eyes.

"But, my lad," pursued Adhemar, sweUing with

THE IDOL OF PARIS 15

conviction, '*your uncle might well have made a for'
tune at machinery, while, as it Is, he has just managed
to exist."

*'We are very happy" — Madame Darbols slipped
in her word.

Esperance had bounded out of her chair, and from
behind her father encircled his head with her arms.
*'Oh ! yes, very happy," she murmured in a low voice,
"and you would not, darling papa, spoil the harmony
of our life together?"

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

"Why?"

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

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

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

Francois listened to his daughter affectionately,
drawing her closer to him. "Understand me, my
dearie. I am not denying your wish as a proof of
my parental authority. No, remember this is the
second time that you have expressed your will in the

i6 THE IDOL OF PARIS

matter of the choice of your career. The first time
I asked you to consider it for six months : The six
months having passed, you now place me under the
obligation of ''

"Oh! papa, what a horrid word!"

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

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

Esperance began to tremble, but she stood reso-
lutely away from her father, holding herself rigid
with her arms hanging straight at her sides. The
rose tint of her cheeks had disappeared and her blue
eyes were dimmed with shadows.

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

Adhemar continued, "Pray allow me to proceed
with what I have to say, my dear child. I have come
from the country for this purpose, in answer to your
father's summons. I wish to offer my experience for
your protection. Your parents know nothing of life.
Francois breathes the ether of a world peopled only by
philosophers — whether dead or living, it makes little
difference ; your mother lives only for you two. I ex-

THE IDOL OF PARIS 17

pressed at once my horror at the career that you have
chosen, I expatiated upon all the dangers 1 You seem
to have understood nothing, and your father, thanks
to his philosophy, that least trustworthy of guides,
continues futilely reasoning, for ever reasoning!"

His harangue was cut short. Esperance's clear
voice broke in, "I do not wish to hear you speak In
this manner of my father, godfather," she said coldly.
*'My father lives for my mother and me. He Is
good and generous. It Is you who are the egoist,
godfather!"

Frangols started as if to check his daughter, but she
continued, *'When mama was so sick, six years ago,
papa sent me with Marguerite, our maid, to take a
letter to you. I did so want to read that letter, it
must have been so splendid . . . You answered . . ."

Adhemar tried to get In a word. Esperance in
exasperation tapped the floor with her foot and rushed
on, "You answered, *LIttle one, you must tell your
papa that I will give him all the advice he wants to
help him out of this trouble, but it Is a principle of
mine never to lend money, above all to my good
friends, for that always leads to a quarrel.' Then I
left you and went to my Uncle Renaud, who gave me
a great deal more even than we needed for mama."

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

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

;i8 THE IDOL OF PARIS

The atmosphere of the little room seemed suddenly
to congeal. The silence was intense. Adhemar him-
self remained thunderstruck in his chair, his tongue
dry, his thoughts chaotic, unable to form a reply to
the child's virulent attack. For the sake of break-
ing up this general paralysis, Maurice Renaud finally
suggested that they should vote upon the decision to
be given to his brave little cousin.

They gathered together around the table and began
to talk in low tones. Esperance had sunk into a chair.
Her face was very pale and great blue circles had ap-
peared around her eyes. The discussion seemed to
be once more in full swing when Maurice startled
everyone by crying, "My God, Esperance is ill!"

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

Maurice raised the child in his arms, and Madame
Darbois led him quickly to Esperance's little room
where he laid the light form on its little bed. Fran-
cois Darbois moistened her temples quickly with
Eau de Cologne. Madame Darbois supported Es-
perance's head, holding a little ether to her nose.
As Maurice looked about the little room, as fresh,
as white, as the two pots of marguerites on the *
mantel-shelf, an indefinable sentiment swelled up
within him. Was it a kind of adoration for so
much purity? Philippe Renaud had remained in
the dining-room where he succeeded in keeping Ad-
hemar, in spite of his efforts to follow the Darbois.

THE IDOL OF PARIS 19

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

"Don't cry, my child, now, not a tear," cried Dar-
bois, bending over his little girl. "It is settled, you
shall be . . ." and the word was lost in her little ear.

She went suddenly pink, and raising herself to-
wards him, whispered her reply, "Oh! I thank you!
How I love you both ! Thank you ! Thank you !"

CHAPTER II

EsPERANCE, left alone with her mother, drank the
tea this tender parent brought to her, and the look
of health began to come back to her face.

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

^'You want to go to-morrow?"

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

The two — mother and daughter — were silent a
moment, occupied with the same tender thoughts.

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

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

Left alone, Esperance cast aside her blue dress
and surveyed herself in the long mirror. Her eyes
were asking the questions that perplexed her whole
being. She raised herself lightly on her little feet.
*'0h! yes, surely I am going to be tall. I am only
fifteen, and I am quite tall for my age. Oh! yes, I
shall be tall." She came very close to the mirror
and examined herself closely, hypnotizing herself

20

THE IDOL OF PARIS 21

little by little. She beheld herself under a million
different aspects. Her whole life seemed passing be-
fore her, shadowy figures came and went — one of
them, the most persistent, seemed to keep stretching
towards her long appealing arms. She shivered, re-
coiled abruptly, and passing her hand across her fore-
head, dispelled the dizzy visions that were gather-
ing there.

When her mother returned she found her quietly
reading Victor Hugo, studying *^Dona Sol'* In Her-
nam. She had not heard the opening of the door,
and she started at finding her mother close beside her.

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

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

Esperance seized her hat and coat quickly and ran
to join her father. He was sitting as If thinking, his
head resting In his hands. She understood the strug-
gle between love and reason in his soul, and her up-
right little soul suffered with his. Bending gently
beside him she murmured, "Do not be unhappy,
papa. You know that I can never suffer as long as
I have you two. If I am quite mistaken. If life
doesn't bring me any of the things that I expect, I
shall find comfort in your love."

Frangols Darbois raised his head and looked deep
into the lovely eyes, "God keep you, my little daugh-
ter!"

22 THE IDOL OF PARIS

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

*'You have my birth certificate?"

*Tes, yes."

"And papa's written consent?"

"Yes, yes," sighed Madame Darbois.

*'He hesitated to give it to you?"

*'0h! no, you know your father I His word is
sacred, but it cost him a great deal. My dear little
girl, never let him regret it."

Esperance put her finger across her mother's lips.
"Mama, you know that I am honest and honourable,
how can I help it when I am the child of two darlings
as good as you and papa ? My longing for the thea-
tre is stronger than I can tell. I believe that if papa
had refused his permission, it would have made me
sick and that I should have fallen ill and pined away.
You remember how, about a year ago, I almost died
of anaemia and consumption. Really, mother dear,
my illness was simply caused by my overstrung
nerves. I had often heard papa express his disap-
proval of the theatre; and you, you remember, said
one day, in reference to the suicide of a well-known
actress, *Ah, her poor mother, God keep me from
seeing my daughter on the stage !' "

Madame Darbois was silent for a moment; then

THE IDOL OF PARIS 23

two tears rolled quietly from beneath her eyelids and
a little sob escaped her.

"Ah I mama, mama/' cried Esperance, "have pity,
don't make me see you suffer so. I feared it; I
did not want to be sure of it. I am an ungrateful
daughter. You love me so much! You have in-
dulged me so ! I ought to give in. I can not, and
your grief will kill me. I suffered so yesterday, out
driving, feeling papa so far away. I kept feeling as
if he were holding himself aloof in an effort to for-
get, and now you are crying . . . Mama, it is ter-
rible ! I must make myself give you back your hap-
piness— at least your peace of mind. Alas ! — I can
not give you back your happiness, for I think that I
shall die if I can not have my way."

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

They found at the Conservatoire several women,
who had arrived before them, waiting to have their
daughters entered for the course. Four youths were
standing in a separate group, staring at the young
girls beside their mothers. In a corner of the room
was a little booth, where the official, charged with
receiving applications, was ensconced. He was a
man of fifty, gruff, jaundiced from liver trouble, look-

24 THE IDOL OF PARIS

ing down superciliously at the girls whose names he
had just received. When Madame Darbois entered
with Esperance, the distinguished manner of the two
ladies caused a little stir. The group of young men
drew nearer. Madame Darbois looked about, and
seeing an empty bench near a window, went towards
it with* her daughter. The sun, falling upon Esper-
ance's blonde hair, turned it suddenly into aureola
of gold. A murmur as of admiration broke from
the spectators.

"Now there is someone,'' murmured a big fat wo-
man with her hands stuffed into white cotton gloveo,
*'who may be sure of her future!"

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

She indicated her mother with an impatient move-
ment of her little head. "Yes," said Madame Dar-
bois, "but I come after these other people. I will
wait my turn."

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

They rose. A sound of discontent was audible.

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

Silence descended again. Many of these women
had come a long way. A little dressmaker had left

THE IDOL OF PARIS 25

her workshop to bring her daughter. A big cham-
ber-maid had obtained the morning's leave from the
bourgeois house where she worked. Her daughter
stood beside her, a beautiful child of sixteen with
colourless hair, impudent as a magpie. A music
teacher with well-worn boots had excused herself
from her pupils. Her two daughters flanked her to
right and left, Parisian blossoms, pale and anaemic.
Both wished to pass the entrance examinations, the
one as an ingenue in comedy, the other in tragedy.
They were neither comic nor tragic, but modest and
charming. There was also a small shop-keeper, cov-
ered with jewels. She sat very rigid, far forward on
the bench, compressed into a terrible corset which
forced her breast and back into the humps of a punch-
inello ; her legs hanging just short of the floor. Her
daughter paced up and down the long room like a
colt snorting impatiently to be put through its paces.
She had the beauty of a classic type, without spot or
blemish, but her joints looked too heavy and her neck
was thrust without grace between her large shoulders.
Anyone who looked into the future would have
been able to predict for her, with some certainty,
an honourable career as a tragedian In the prov-
inces.

Madame Darbois seated herself on the only chair
in the little office. When the official had read Esper-
ance's birth certificate, he exclaimed, "What! Made-
moiselle is the daughter of the famous professor of
philosophy?"

26 THE IDOL OF PARIS

The two women looked at each other with amaze-
ment.

"Why, ladles," went on the official radiantly, "my
son IS taking courses with M. Darbois at the Sor-
bonne. What a pleasure it is to meet you — but how
does it happen that M. Darbois has allowed . . . ?"
His sentence died In his throat. Madame Darbois
had become very pale and her daughter's nostrils
quivered. The official finished with his papers, re-
turned them politely to Madame Darbois, and said
in a low tone, "Have no anxiety, Madame, the lit-
tle lady has a wonderful future before her."

The two ladles thanked the official and made their
way toward the door. The group of young men
bowed to the young girl, and she inclined her head
ever so slightly.

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

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

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

An argument ensued Instantly, but Esperance had
gone her way, trembling with happiness. Every-
thing In life seemed opening for her. For the first
time she was aware of her own individuality; for the
first time she recognized In herself a force : would
that force work for creation or destruction? The
child pressed her hands against her fluttering heart.

M. Darbois was waiting at the window. At sight

THE IDOL OF PARIS 27

of him, Esperance jumped from the carriage before
it stopped. "What a little creature of extremes!'*
mused the professor.

When she threw her arms about him to thank him,
he loosed her hands quickly. *'Come, come, we
haven't time to talk of that. We must sit down at
once. Marguerite is scolding because the dinner is
going to be spoiled.'*

To Esperance the dinner was of less than no im-
portance, but she threw aside her hat obediently,
pulled forward her father's chair, and sat down be-
tween the two beings whom she adored, but whom
she was forced to see suffer if she lived in her own
joy — and that she could not, and would not, hide.

CHAPTER III

The weeks before the long-expected day of the exam-
ination went by all too slowly to suit Esperance.
She had chosen, for the comedy test to study a scene
from Les Fevimes Savantes (the role of ^'Henri-
ette**)^ and in tragedy a scene from Iphygenia. Ad-
hemar Meydieux often came to inquire about his god-
daughter's studies. He wished to hear her recite, to
give her advice; but Esperance refused energetically,
still remembering his former opposition against him.
She would let no one hear her recitations, but her
mother. Madame Darbois put all her heart into her
efforts to help her daughter. Every morning she
went through her work with Esperance. To her the
role of ^^Henriette^^ was inexplicable. She consulted
her husband, who replied, '^ ^Henriette* is a little phi-
losopheress with plenty of sense. Esperance is right
to have chosen this scene from hes Femmes Savantes.
Moliere's genius has never exhibited finer raillery
than in this play." And he enlarged upon the psy-
chology of ^^Henriette's^* character until Madame
Darbois realized with surprise that her daughter
was completely in accord with the ideas laid down by
her father as to the interpretation of this role. Es-
perance was so young it seemed impossible that she

could yet understand all the double subtleties. . . .

28

THE IDOL OF PARIS 29

Esperance had taken her first communion when she
was eleven, and after her religious studies ended, she
had thought of nothing but poetry, and had even
tried to compose some verses. Her father had en-
couraged her, and procured her a professor of litera-
ture. From that time the child had given herself
completely to the art of the drama, learning by heart
and reciting aloud the most beautiful parts of French
literature. Her parents, listening with pleasure to
her recitations of Ronsard or Victor Hugo, little
guessing that the child was already dreaming of the
theatre. Often since then, Madame Darbois had re-
proached herself for having foreseen so little, but her
husband, whose wisdom recognized the uselessness of
vain regrets, would calm her, saying with a shake of
his head, "You can prevent nothing, my dear wife,
destiny Is a force against which all Is impotent ! We
can but remove the stumbling-blocks from the path
which Esperance must follow. We must be pa-
tient!"

At last the day arrived! Never had the young
girl been more charming. Frangois Darbois had
been working arduously on the correction of a book
he was about to publish, when he saw her coming in-
to his library. He turned towards her and, regard-
ing her there In the doorway, seemed to see the arch-
angel of victory, — such radiance emanated from this
frail little body.

*'I wanted to kiss you, father, before going . . .
there. Pardon me for having disturbed you." He

30 THE IDOL OF PARIS

pressed her close against his heart without speaking,
unwiUing to pronounce the words of regret that
mounted to his lips.

Esperance was silent for an instant before her
father's grief: then with an exaltation of her whole
being she flung herself on her father's neck: "Oh,
father, dear father, I am so happy that you must not
suffer; you love me so much that you must be happy
in this happiness I owe to you; to-morrow, perhaps,
will bring me tears. Let us live for to-day."

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

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

The same official came to speak to them, and, con-
sulting the list which he was holding ostentatiously,
*'There are still five pupils before you. Mademoiselle,
two boys and three young ladies. Whom have you
chosen to give you your cues?"

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

"But," answered the man, "you must have an
'Armand^ for Les Femmes Savantes, an ^Agemem^
non* and a ^Clytemnestra* for Iphygenia/*

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

The official smiled and assumed still more Impor-

THE IDOL OF PARIS 31

tance. "Wait just a moment, ladies." Soon he re-
turned, leading a tall, young girl with a dignified bear-
ing, and a young man of evident refinement. "Here
is Mile. Hardouin, who is willing to give you the cues
for ^Armande* and ^Clyteninestra/ and M. Jean Per-
liez, who will do the 'Agememnon* Only, I be-
lieve," he added, "you will have to rehearse with
them. I will take all four of you into my little of-
fice where no one can disturb you."

Mile. Hardouin was a beautiful, modest young girl
of eighteen, with charming manners. She was an
orphan and lived with a sister ten years older, who
had been a mother to her. They adored each other.
The older sister had established a good trade for
herself as a dressmaker; both sisters were respected
and loved.

Jean Perliez was the son of a chemist. His father
had been unwilling that he should choose a theatrical
career until he should have completed his studies at
college. He had obeyed, graduated brilliantly, and
was now presenting himself for the entrance examina-
tion as a tragedian.

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

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

After the rehearsal of Les Femmes Savantes, when
they finished the scene of Iphygenia, Jean Perliez
turned to Madame Darbois and inquired the name of
Esperance's instructor.

32 THE IDOL OF PARIS

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

*'That Is indeed remarkable," murmured Jean
Perliez, as he looked at the young girl. Then bend-
ing towards Madame Darbois, "May I be permitted,
Madame, to ask your daughter to give me the cues
of ^ Junta* in Britannicusf The young lady who was
to have played it is ill."

Madame Darbois hesitated to reply and looked
towards Esperance.

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

The young man offered her the lines. "I don't
need them," she said laughing, "I know *Junia' by
heart." And, Indeed, the rehearsal passed off with-
out a slip, and the little cast separated after exchang-
ing the most enthusiastic expressions of pleasure.

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

"Very good," Perliez replied curtly.

Everything went well for Esperance. Her ap-
pearance on the miniature stage where the examina-
tions were held caused a little sensation among the
professor-judges.

"What a heavenly child!" exclaimed VIctorlen
Sardou.

THE IDOL OF PARIS 33

*'Here is truly the beauty of a noble race,'^ mur-
mured Delaunay, the well-known member of the
Comedie-Frangaise.

The musical purity of Esperance's voice roused the
assembly Immediately out of Its torpor. The judges,,
no longer bored and Indifferent, followed her words,
with breathless attention, and when she stopped a
low murmur of admiration was wafted to her.

*'Scene from Iphygenia** rasped the voice of the
man whose duty It was to make announcements.
There was a sound of chairs being dragged forward,
and the members of the jury settling themselves to
the best advantage for listening. Here In Itself was
a miniature triumph, repressed by the dignity as-
sumed by all the judges, but which Esperance appre-
ciated none the less. She bowed with the sensitive
grace characteristic of her. Genevieve Hardouin
and Jean Perllez congratulated her with hearty pres-
sures of the hand.

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

*'He Is my father,'' the girl answered very proudly.

Delaunay had arisen. "You are the daughter of
Francois Darbols! We are. Indeed, proud to be
able to present our compliments to you. You have
an extraordinary father. Please tell him that his
daughter has won every vote."

Esperance read so much respect and sincerity In
his expression that she curtsied as she replied, "My

34 THE IDOL OF PARIS

father will be very happy that these words have been
spoken by anyone whom he admires as sincerely as
M. Delaunay."

Then she went quickly on her way.

As soon as they were back on the Boulevard Ras-
pail and home, Esperance and her mother moved to-
wards the library. Marguerite, the maid, stopped
them. *'Monsieur has gone out. He was so rest-
less. Is Mademoiselle satisfied?"

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

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

Mother and daughter started. Someone was com-
ing upstairs. Esperance ran to the door and fell into
the arms of that dearly-loved parent. He kissed
her tenderly. His eyes were damp.

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

"Your lunch is ready," announced Marguerite.

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

Madame Darbois gently removed her daughter's
hat.

"Please, dear papa, I want to tell you every-
thing."

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

The two ladies seemed surprised. "But ?

How?"

"Through my friend, Victor Perliez, the chemist;

THE IDOL OF PARIS 35

who Is, like me, a father who feels deeply about his
child's choice of a career.''

Esperance made a little move.

"No, little girl," went on Frangois Darbois, "I da
not want to cause you the least regret. Every now
and then my innermost thoughts may escape me;
but that will pass. ... I know that you showed
unusual simplicity as ^Henriette/ and emotion as
'Iphygenia/ Perliez's son, whom I used to know
when he was no higher than that," he said, stretch-
ing out his hand, "was enthusiastic? He is, further-
more, a clever boy, who might have made something
uncommon out of himself as a lawyer, perhaps.
But "

"But, father dear, he will make a fine lawyer; he
will have an Influence In the theatre that will be more
direct, more beneficial, more far-reaching, than at the
Bar. Oh ! but yes ! You remember, don't you, ma-
ma, how disturbed you were by M. Dubare's plea on
behalf of the assassin of Jeanne Verdier? Well, is
it not noble to defend the poets, and Introduce to the
public all the new scientific and political Ideas?"

"Often wrong Ideas," remarked Darbois.

"That Is perhaps true, but what of It? Have you
not said a thousand times that discussion Is the neces-
sary soil for the development of new ideas?"

The professor of philosophy looked at his daugh-
ter, realizing that every word he had spoken in her
hearing, all the seed that he had cast to the wind?
had taken root In her young mind.

36 THE IDOL OF PARIS

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

The professor began to smile. ^'Outside the Con-
servatoire. Perliez and I ran into each other, both
impelled by the same extreme anxiety towards the
scene of our sacrifice. It is not really necessary to
consult all the philosophical authorities on this sub-
ject of inanition of will," he added, wearily.

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

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

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

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

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

When Francois entered the salon, Sardou was
standing, his hands clasped behind him, examining
through half-closed eyes a delicate pastel, signed
Chaplain — a portrait of Madame Darbois at twenty.
At the professor's entry, he turned round and ex-
claimed with the engaging friendliness that was one

THE IDOL OF PARIS 37

of his special charms, "What a very pretty thing,
and what superb colour!"

Then advancing, "It is to M. Francois Darbois
that I have the pleasure of speaking, is it not?'*

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

"Let me say to begin with, my dear professor, that
I am one of your most fervent followers. Your last
book. Philosophy is not Indifference, is, in my opin-
ion, a work of real beauty. Your doctrine does not
discourage youth, and after reading your book, I
decided to send my sons to your lectures."

Frangois Darbois thanked the great author. The
ice was broken. They discussed Plato, Aristotle,
Montaigne, Schopenhauer, etc. Victorien Sardou
heard the clock strike; he had lunched hastily and
had to be back at the Conservatoire by two o'clock,
as the jury still had to hear eleven pupils. He began
laughing and talking very fast, in his habitual man-
ner: "I must tell you, however, why I have come;
your daughter, who passed her examination this
morning, is very excellent. She has the making of
a real artist; the voice, the smile, the grace, the dis-
tinction, the manner, the rhythm. This child of fif-
teen has every gift! I am now arranging a play for
the Vaudeville. The principal role is that of a very
young girl. Just at present there are only well-worn
professionals in the theatre."

38 THE IDOL OF PARIS

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

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

Then to the maid, "Ask Madame and Mademoi-
selle to come here."

Sardou came up to the professor and pressed his
hand gratefully. "You are consistent with your prin-
ciples. I congratulate you; that is very rare," he
said.

The two ladles came in.

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

The gracious lady flushed, a little embarrassed,
but flattered. After the introduction, Sardou re-
peated his proposal to Esperance, who, with visible
excitement, looked questloningly at her father.

"It seems to me," said Madame Darbois, timidly,
"that this Is rather premature. Do you feel able to
play so soon in a real theatre, before so many
people?"

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

THE IDOL OF PARIS 39

Sardou raised his head and looked at her.

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

Frangois would have spoken, but she prevented
him, drawing closer to him. *'0h, dear papa, in
spite of yourself, I see this depression comes back to
you. I want to succeed, and so drive away your
heavy thoughts."

"Then," said Sardou quickly, to relieve them all
of the emotion they were feeling, "it is quite
agreed." Turning to Madame Darbois, who was
trembling, "Do not be alarmed, dear Madame; we
still have six or eight months before the plan will
be ready for realization, which I feel sure will
be satisfactory to all of us. I see that you are
ready to go out; are you returning to the Con-
servatoire?"

"Yes," said Esperance, "I promised to give V«-
nia^s' cues to M. Jean Perliez."

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

It was already late. The two gentlemen shook

40 THE IDOL OF PARIS

hands, anticipating that, henceforth, they would
meet as friends.

When they had left him, Frangols looked at the
pastel, which he had not examined for a long time.
The young girl smiled at him with that smile that
had first charmed him. He saw himself asking M. de
Gossec, a rich merchant, for the hand of his daugh-
ter Germaine. He brushed his hand across his fore-
head as if to remove the memory of the refusal he
had received on that occasion : then he smiled at the
new vision which rose before his imagination. He
saw himself in the church of St. Germain des Pres,
kneeling beside Germaine de Gossec, trembling with
emotion and happiness. A cloud of sadness passed
over his face : now he was following the hearse of his
father-in-law, who had committed suicide, leaving be-
hind him a load of debt. The philosopher's expres-
sion grew proud and fierce. The first thirteen years
of his marriage had been devoted to paying off this
debt: then came the death of the sister of M. de Gos-
sec, leaving her niece eight hundred thousand francs,
five hundred thousand of which had served to pay
the debt. For the last four years the family had
been living in this comfortable apartment on the
Boulevard Raspail, very happy and without material
worries : but how cruel those first thirteen years had
been for this young woman ! He gazed at the pastel
for a long time, his eyes filling with tears. "Oh, my
dear, dear wife!'*

In the carriage on the way to the Conservatoire the

THE IDOL OF PARIS 41

conversation was very animated. The dramatic au-
thor was listening with great Interest while the young
girl explained her theories on art and life. *'What
a strange little being," he thought, and his penetrat-
ing glance tried in vain to discover what weakness
was most likely to attack this little creature who
seemed so perfect.

The carriage stopped at the Conservatoire. Jean
Perllez was waiting at the foot of the stairs. At
sight of them his face lighted up. *'I was afraid that
you had forgotten me In the joy of your success."

The girl looked at him In amazement. *'How
could I forget that I had given my word?"

"You know Victorlen Sardou?"

"Only to-day," said Esperance laughing; "yester-
day we did not know him."

They were back in the reception-room which was
only a little less noisy than it was in the morning.
Many candidates believed that they had been ac-
cepted; several had even received encouraging ap-
plause; others, who had been received in frigid si-
lence, comforted themselves with the reflection that
they had at least been allowed to finish.

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

"Scene from Britannicus, M. Jean Perllez, *Nero* ;
Mile. Esperance Darbols, 'Junlal '' proclaimed the
usher.

42 THE IDOL OF PARIS

The scene was so very well enacted that a "Bravo"
broke from the learned group around the table.
Which one of the judges had not been able to contain
his admiration? The young actors could not decide.
Each one believed sincerely the success was due to the
other. They congratulated each other with charm-
ing expressions of delight, and took each other by the
hand.

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

The young man turned quite red, and when Ma-
dame Darbois held out her hand to him, he kissed it
politely, with the kiss he had not dared to give to
Esperance.

CHAPTER IV

EsPERANCE having chosen the stage as her career,
the whole household was more or less thrown into
confusion. It became necessary to make several new
arrangements. As Frangols Darbols was not willing
that his wife should accompany Esperance every day
to the Conservatoire, It became quite a problem to
find a suitable person to undertake this duty.

For the first time In her life Madame Darbols had
to endure humiliating refusals. The young widow of
an ofiicer was directed by a friend of the family to
apply. She seemed a promising person.

"You will have to be here every morning by nine,"
Madame Darbols said to her, ''and you will be free
every afternoon by four. The course Is given In the
morning, but twice a week there are classes also In
the afternoon; on those days you will lunch with us."

''And Sundays?"

"Your Sundays will be your own. The Conserva-
toire has no classes on Sunday."

"So I understand that you would employ me only
to accompany your daughter to the Conservatoire,
Madame!" said the officer's widow, dryly. "I shall
be compelled to refuse your offer. I am unfortu-
nately forced to work to support my two children, but

43

44 THE IDOL OF PARIS

I owe some respect to the name I bear. The Conser-
vatoire is a place of perdition, and I am astonished,'*
she added, "that the professor, who is so universally
esteemed and respected, could have been able . . .'*

Madame Darbois rose to her feet. She was very
pale. "It is not necessary for you to judge the
actions of my husband, Madame. That Is enough.'*

When she was left alone Madame Darbois re-
flected sadly upon the narrow-mindedness of her fel-
low creatures. Then she reproached herself with her
own inexperience that put her at the mercy of the
first stupid prude she encountered. She was well
aware that the Conservatoire w^as not supposed to be
a centre of culture and education, but she had al-
ready observed the modesty and independence of
several of the young girls there : the well-informed
minds of most of the young men. Nevertheless, she
had had her lesson, and was careful not to lay her-
self open to any new affront. After some consider-
ation, she engaged a charming old lady, named
Eleanore Frahender, who had been companion in a
Russian family, and was now living In a convent in
the Faubourg Saint-Germain, where only trust-
worthy guests could be received. The old lady loved
art and poetry, and as soon as she had met Esper-
ance, was full of enthusiasm for her new duties.
The young girl and she agreed in many tastes, and
very soon they were great friends.

M. Darbois was quite contented with the arrange-
ment, and could now attend to his work with com-

THE IDOL OF PARIS 45

plete tranquillity. Every morning the family gath-
ered in the dining-room at half-past eight to take
their coffee together. Esperance would recount all
the little events of the day before and her studies for
the day to come. Whenever she felt any doubt about
an ambiguous phrase, she went at once to get her
father's advice upon it. Sometimes Genevieve Har-
douin would drop in to talk with her and Mile.
Frahender. Esperance adored Racine and refused
to study Corneille, before whom Genevieve bowed
in enthusiastic admiration.

*'He is superhuman," she exclaimed, fervently.

*'That is just what I reproach him with," returned
Esperance. "Racine is human, that is why I love
him. None of Corneille's heroines move me at all,
and I loathe the sorrows of ^Phaedre/ ''

"And 'Chimene^ f^ asked Genevieve Hardouin.

'' ^Chimene^ has no interest for me. She never
does as she wants."

"How feminine!" said the professor, gently.

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

Several months after Esperance's most encourag-
ing admission to the Conservatoire, Victorlen Sardou

46 THE IDOL OF PARIS

wrote a note to Francois Darbols, with whom he had
come to be warm friends, warning him that he was
soon coming to lunch with them, to read his new play
to the family. Esperance was wild with excitement.
The time of waiting for the event seemed intermin-
able to her. Her father tried In vain to calm her
with philosophical reflections. Creature of feeling
and Impulse that she was, nothing could control her
excitement.

Sardou had also asked Francois Darbols to Invite
Mile. Frahender, whose generous spirit and whose
tact and judgment he much esteemed. The old
lady arrived, carrying as usual the little box with the
lace cap which she donned as soon as her bonnet was
laid aside. On this great day the little cap was em-
bellished by a mauve satin ribbon, contrasting charm-
ingly with the silver of her hair.

All through lunch Esperance was delightful. Her
quick responses to Sardou's questions were amazing
in their logic. The extreme purity of this young soul
seeking self-expression so courageously, struck the
two men with particular emphasis.

The reading was a great success. The part in-
tended for Esperance, the young girPs part, the
heroine of the piece, had become of primary Impor-
tance. Sardou had been able to study Esperance's
qualifications during the months he had been a fre-
quent visitor at the Darbois's home, and he had
made the most of his prescience.

THE IDOL OF PARIS 47

Lack of experience of the theatre, so natural in a
child of sixteen, suggested several scenes of pure
comedy. Then, as the drama developed, the author
had heightened the intensity of the role by several
scenes of real pathos, relying completely on Esper-
ance to interpret them for him. Quite overcome by
the death of the heroine she was to impersonate, she
thanked the author, with tears streaming down her
cheeks, her hands icy, her heart beating so furiously
that the linen of her white blouse rose and fell.

"It Is rather I who shall be thanking you the day
of the first production," said Sardou much touched,
as he wrapped round his neck the large, white square
he always wore. "I believe that to-day has not been
wasted."

The rehearsals began. Sardou had asked for and
obtained from the Conservatoire six months' leave
for his young protegee, but Esperance would on no
account consent to give up her classes. The only
concession she would make was to give up the after-
noon classes twice a week.

The press began to notice this infant prodigy, who
wished to remain quite unheralded until her debut.
Francois Darbols, In spite of his friendship with
several journalists, could not make them adhere to
their promises of silence, and when he complained
bitterly to the head of a great daily, "But, my
friend," the editor rejoined, "that daughter of yours
IS particularly fascinating, and certainly when you

48 THE IDOL OF PARIS

launched her Into this whirlpool, you should have
remembered that the only exits are triumph or de-
spair!

The philosopher grew pale.

*'I believe," went on his friend, "that this child will
vanquish every obstacle by the force of her will, will
stifle all jealousies by the grace of her purity, and al-
ready she belongs to the public, and the fame of
your name has simply served for a stepping-stone.
You, in your wisdom, have been able to impart true
wisdom to your child. But before the public has
ever seen her she is famous, and Sardou affirms that
the day after her appearance she will be the idol of
all Paris. I owe it to the profession of journalism
to write her up in my paper, and I am doing it, you
must admit, with the utmost reserve."

CHAPTER y

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

The sale of tickets had opened eight days in ad-
vance. The agents had realized big profits. The
first night always creates a sensation in Paris. All
the social celebrities were in the audience : and, what
is less usual, many "intellectuals." They wished to
testify by their presence their friendship for Francois
Darbois, and to protest against certain journalists,
who had not hesitated to say in print that such a fur-
ore about an actress (poor Esperance) was pre-
judicial to the dignity of philosophy.

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

"Look there, that is Count Albert Styvens," said
a journalist, pointing out the Secretary to his neigh-
bour, a young beauty in a very decolletee gown.

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

49

50 THE IDOL OF PARIS

"So they say."

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

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

The distant skurry in the wings that always pre-
cedes the raising of the curtain was audible on the
stage. This rattling of properties is very noticeable
to actors new to the theatre, though it is quite un-
suspected by the general public.

The first act began. The audience was sympa-
thetic, but impatient. However, the author knew
his public, knew when to spring his surprises, how to
hold the emotion in reserve until a climax of applause
at the final triumph.

Esperance made her first entrance, laughing and
graceful, as her role demanded. A murmur of ad-
miration mounted from the orchestra to the balcony.
Hers was such startling, such radiant fairness ! Her
musical, fluting voice acted like as a strange enchant-

THE IDOL OF PARIS 51

ment on the astonished audience. From the first
moment the public was hers. The critic reporter
touched his neighbour's elbow. "Look at Count
Albert, he seems stunned!"

As the Count leaned forward to watch more in-
tently. "Great Heavens, do you suppose he will fall
in love with her, do you believe he will really care
for that little thing?" murmured the woman, mock-
ingly.

The curtain fell amidst a shower of "Bravos."
Esperance had to return three times before the pub-
lic, which continued to applaud her unstintedly, as she
smiled and blushed under her paint. In spite of fif-
teen minutes' waiting, the intermission did not seem
long. The occupants of the boxes were busy ex-
changing calls.

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

"Do you think it is a wig?"

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

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

"She is still at the Conservatoire?"

"Yes."

"The Theatre-Frangaise ought to engage her im-
mediately. They would find It would at once in-
crease their subscription list."

"They say that her father is very much distressed
to see her in the theatre. Why, there they are, the

52 THE IDOL OF PARIS

Darbois. Don't you see them in that box far back?
They are looking very pleased."

A tall, pale man passed by.

"Ah I here goes Count Styvens. Have you read
the article he had in the Dehats this morning?"

*'No, he puts me to sleep."

**I read it; it was rather unusual."

*'What about?"

*'About the fecundity of the pollen of flowers."

The chatter ceased. The count was within hear-
ing.

"What have you to say about Esperance Dar-
bois?" inquired a young lady.

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

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

"Did you see my daughter?"

"Yes. I just went to congratulate her."

"How did you find her?"

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

THE IDOL OF PARIS 53

"Indeed I noticed it, and was a little frightened,'*
said Mile. Frahender.

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

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

The curtain went up, disclosing Esperance, a book
In her hand, her back to the public. She was not
reading. That was evident from the weary droop of
her body, from the rigid gaze into space. A coming
storm was heralded by her quick motion, when she
sprang up, threw aside her book, shook the pretty
head to drive away the black butterflies in her brain,
and ran to kiss her stage mother, who was playing

54 THE IDOL OF PARIS

Bridge with the villainess of the piece. There was
such spontaneity in her movements that the sympa-
thetic audience cried out, "Bravo!"

In the course of the act, Esperance secured sev-
eral salvos of applause. The sustained emotion of
the grief that overwhelmed her and the spasm of
weeping which closed the act gave the young artist
complete assurance of the public's passionate ap-
proval.

Sardou had dropped into the box of the Minister
Plenipotentiary. He hid himself from the public,
but sought the opinion of his great friend.

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

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

The Belgian Prince looked questioningly at Sar-
dou, and at his nod of acquiescence they prepared to
go and salute the new star just risen In the Parisian
firmament.

"Come with us, my dear Count."

Albert Styvens became livid, a cold sweat broke
out on his forehead, a polite phrase died In his throat.
He rose to his feet and followed the Prince of Berne-
court.

The little reception-room next to Esperance's
dressing-room was full of flowers, but no one was
there. The manager and author had agreed that no
stranger should approach the young artist. Only
the family, Jean Perliez and Mile. Frahender were
allowed to enter. This good old soul was with Es-

THE IDOL OF PARIS 55

perance now, as was Marguerite, who was not willing
to leave her young mistress.

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

The door opened almost immediately, and the
young girl rushed joyfully out Into the little room.
She stopped short seeing three strangers, and her
eyes sought Sardou's, full of startled surprise.

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

Esperance curtsied with pretty grace. The Mlnls-
ter-Prince complimented her graciously; he was a
dilettante, who could express himself most charm-
ingly, In well chosen, artistic terms.

"Your Excellency overcomes me," said the young
actress. "I shall do my best to deserve your kind-

ness."

With a quick movement she re-adjusted her tulle
scarf on her shoulders and blushed a little. The
Minister turned and saw Albert Styvens standing
with nervous Interest — gazing like one bewitched at
the enchanting maiden.

"Let me present to you Count Albert Styvens."

Esperance Inclined her head a little and drew In-
stinctively nearer to Mile. Frahender.

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

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

S6 THE IDOL OF PARIS

^'Insane, yes; I think I must be going Insane,"
murmured the young man In a choking voice.

The play was In four acts, there were still two to
come. The audience seemed to watch in a delirium
of delight, and when the last curtain dropped, they
called Esperance back eight times, and demanded the
author.

In spite of all the talent displayed by Sardou as
author, there was much enthusiasm and an uncon-
scious gratitude in him as the discoverer of a new
sensation. , . . No comet acclaimed by astrono-
mers as capable of doubling the harvest would have
moved the populace as did the description in all the
papers of this new star in Paris.

CHAPTER yi

The family found itself back on the Boulevard Ras-
pail. The Darbois had not cared to leave their box.
After every act, Mile. Frahender carried their com-
ments and tender messages to Esperance. Frangois
Darbois had great difficulty in constraining himself
to remain in the noisy vestibule. He suffered too
acutely at seeing his daughter, that pure and delicate
child, the focus of every lorgnette, the subject of
every conversation. Several phrases he had over-
heard from a group of men had brought him to his
feet in a frenzy; then he fell back in his place hke one
stunned. Nevertheless there had not been one of-
fensive word. It was all praise.

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

*'It Is the first time, and shall be the last, that I
wish to see you on the stage, dear little daughter.
It Is too painful for me, and what Is worst of all I
fear It will take you away from me."

Esperance replied trembling, "Pardon me. Oh!
pardon me. It is such a force that Impels me. I am
sorry you suffer so. Oh ! don't give way, I beg of
you!"

57

58 THE IDOL OF PARIS

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

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

"Come, this is foolishness," he said, helping Es-
perance to her feet.

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

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

As soon as he was left alone with the philosopher,
the author exclaimed, "In the name of God, man, is
this where philosophy leads you? You are torturing
that child whom you adore ! Oh ! yes, you are dis-
tressed, I know. The public has this evening taken
possession of your daughter, but you are powerless to
prevent it, and now is the time for you to apply to
yourself your magnetic maxims. Esperance is one
of those creatures who are only born once in a hun-
dred years or so; some come as preservers, like Joan
of Arc; others serve as instruments of vengeance of
some occult power" (Sardou was an ardent believer
in the occult) . "Your child is a force of nature, and
nothing can prevent her destiny. The fact that you
have seen her brilliant development in spite of the
grey environment of her first sixteen years, should

THE IDOL OF PARIS 59

convince you of the uselessness of your protests or re-
grets. The career that she has chosen Is brlsthng
with dangers, and full of disillusions, and gives free
rein to a pitiless horde of calumniators. That can-
not be helped. Your task, my friend," he added
more calmly, "Is to protect your daughter, and above
all to assure her of a refuge of tenderness, and love
and understanding."

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

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

Thanks to Sardou's gifts as a raconteur ^ the supper
passed off pleasantly enough. This great man could
unfold the varied pages of his mind with disconcert-
ing ease. He knew everything, and could talk and
act with inimitable vivacity. His anecdotes were al-
ways Instructive, drawn from his manifold sources of
knowledge in art or science. Mile. Frahender was
stupefied by so much eclecticism, the philosopher for-
got his grief, Madame Darbois realized for the first
time that there might exist a brain worthy of compar-
ison with her husband's. As to Esperance, she was
living in a dream of what the future would unfold.
One evening had sufficed for her to conquer Paris, to
capture the provinces, and arouse the foreigner, fre-
quently so indifferent to great artistic achievements.

6o THE IDOL OF PARIS

The young pupil pursued her courses at the Con-
servatoire, in spite of Sardou's remonstrances that
she would find it fatiguing. The modesty and sim-
plicity of her return to the midst of her comrades
restored her to the popularity her triumph had en-
dangered.

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

A tall young man, with a grave face and settled
manner, approaching baldness. In spite of his twenty-
three years, pressed Jean Perliez's hand affection-
ately. "Don't give in, old fellow, keep up hope.
You never know!"

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

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

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

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

Esperance alone was not aware what was the mat-
ter with him, poor fellow, for, in spite of the encour-
agement of Frangols Darbois, Jean would say noth-
ing. He realized the shock that it would be to Es-
perance. She liked him so much as a friend ! On the
long walks they took, with Genevieve Hardouin and

THE IDOL OF PARIS 6i

Mile. Frahender, she had very often frankly confided
to him that she did not want to think about getting
married for years and years I

*'I want to live for my art," she would say, "and
I will never marry an artist I"

He had then thought very seriously of giving up
the theatre and becoming a barrister, as his father
had always wished him to do, but that would mean
that he would lose the chance of seeing Esperance
so often.

Jean Perliez had become great friends with Mau-
rice Renaud, the girl's cousin. They talked of her
and loved her, but Maurice's love was more selfish,
less deeply rooted. He was not jealous of Perliez:
he was sorry for him and counselled him to speak
up, since his uncle, the professor, was In sympathy
with him.

"No," said Jean, "she Is really too young to under-
stand."

Maurice shrugged his shoulders. "It Is true that
Esperance Is not yet seventeen, but her Intelligence
has always been ahead of her years. At twelve she
could outdo me by the logic of her reasoning on the
mysteries of religion. We both adore, my dear Jean,
a very extraordinary little person. I will get out of
your way gracefully. If you succeed; but I have a
presentiment that neither you nor I will be the lucky
fellow. I shall console myself, but you, take care!"

Esperance suspected nothing of the different emo-
tions she was causing. Her youth guarded her

62 THE IDOL OF PARIS

against any betrayal of the senses. She thought that
love was the natural result of marriage. The great
passions as the poets sang them exalted her spirit,
made her heart beat faster, but for her they remained
in the realms of the ideal.

CHAPTER VII

A HORRIBLE catastrophe occurred in Belgium, leav-
ing the inhabitants of the lower quarter of Brussels
without shelter or clothing. Relief was organized on
all sides, and the Theatre-Frangaise announced a
great representation of Hernani to be given as a
benefit for the sufferers in the Royal Theatre de la
Monnaie in Brussels. The star who had undertaken
*^Dona SoV^ fell ill ten days before the performance
was due. The Comedie was much embarrassed, for
the usual understudy of the indisposed actress was an
amiable echo, with little talent. Mounet-Sully
thought immediately of Esperance and obtained per-
mission to make whatever arrangements he could
with her. His arrival at the Darbois home occa-
sioned great excitement.

"I claim your indulgence in the name of charity,
Monsieur," he said to Francois. *'The Comedle-
Frangalse finds itself in the most awkward quandary.
We have prepared a big gala performance at La
Monnaie, to raise money for all those poor Belgian
sufferers."

"Oh ! I have seen the notices," said Esperance,
"with artistes of the Comedie, even in the smaller
roles. What would I not give to see that produc-
tion!"

63

64 THE IDOL OF PARIS

Mounet smiled. "If your father will give his per-
mission, Mademoiselle, you can certainly see it; for
I have come to ask you to take part therein.'*

"What do you mean?" asked M. Darbois curi-
ously.

*'Our 'Dona Sol* is sick, very sick, and her under-
study is not equal to such an occasion. The last ex-
amination you passed in Hernani delighted us with
your manner of interpreting the role. We will give
you all the rehearsals you need at the Comedie; you
will be assisting at a work of charity, and you will
be recompensed for whatever outlay or expense that
you may incur."

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

"Yes," said the professor simply.

"Then I will say . . . thank you, father dear,"
she said, tremulously, "I will say that I am happier
than I can possibly tell you, at the great honour you
have done me, but that I do not want any recom-
pense."

Mounet started to speak,

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

"Then, we will take care of your travelling ex-
penses, and those of your party."

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

THE IDOL OF PARIS 65

She kissed her father and her mother Impulsively^
and also the astonished old Mademoiselle.

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

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

"To-morrow you will get a schedule of rehear-
sals," he called from the doorway.

Madame Darbois was worried about the journey,
and Mile. Frahender agreed to accompany Esper-
ance. It was decided that Marguerite should go to
look after them. The faithful soul had practically
brought up the child ; her zeal and devotion were un-
failing.

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

The door bell rang, then they heard a voice, "In
the salon? Don't bother to announce me, I'll go
up!"

Maurice Renaud entered immediately, followed by
Jean Perliez.

"Well, my boy," said Frangois Darbois to his
nephew, "you are quite a stranger; it must be a month
since we saw you last. You are most welcome."

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

66 THE IDOL OF PARIS

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

*'We are come, uncle, expressly to ask your per-
mission to accompany my cousin to Brussels. We
were told of the project yesterday by Mounet-SuUy,
and if you approve . . .'*

*'0n my word, my dear fellow," cried out the pro-
fessor, delightedly, "you will do me a real service.
I was just considering about writing to Esperance's
godfather!"

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

"Then you prefer this arrangement? You accept
Maurice and Jean as your knight errants? I am
delighted with the arrangement, and I hope that
Mile. Frahender will raise no objection."

The gentle old lady smiled at them all. She wa&
very fond of Jean Perliez, and Maurice Renaud's
high spirits delighted her.

It was decided that Jean, as most responsible,
should be in charge of all the details of the journey.
Francois Darbois led him into the library and en-
trusted him with a goodly sum of money.

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

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

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

THE IDOL OF PARIS 67

Two days after this visit, the notice of the first
rehearsals was received. Esperance was at the thea-
tre long before the hour required, and went at once
towards the stage. The curtain had just been raised,
and the lamp of the servant dusting served only to
lighten the gloom. Followed by Mile. Frahender,
the young girl traversed the corridor ornamented
with marble busts and pictures of the famous artists
who had made the house of Moliere more illustrious
by their talent. With beating heart, she descended
the four steps that led to the stage.

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

"What is it, Esperance?"

*'Nothing, nothing."

*'Was that not Talma, down there, and Mile.
Clairon and Mile. Mars, and Rachel, that magnifi-
cent, expressive masque there . . . look?"

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

*'Your pardon, master, the atmosphere of glory
that one breathes here has intoxicated me a little."

During the rehearsal the music of the voice of the
new ''Dona SoV^ blended charmingly with the power-
ful accents of the great actor, so that all the artists
listened with emotion and delight.

In the final act, when ''Dona Sol'* beside herself,
raises her poignard to "Don Ruy Gomez/* saying, "I
am of the family, uncle," there was an outburst of

68 THE IDOL OF PARIS

*'Bravos" for Esperance, who, erect and trembling,
shoulders thrown back, had just sobbed these words
in a vibrant voice between clenched teeth. With her
pale face and out-stretched arm, she might have been
the statue of despair struggling with destiny.

Madame Darbois was heavy hearted to have her
go. It was the first time that she had been parted
from her daughter for even a few days. She often
looked at her husband, hoping that he would under-
stand her anxiety and urge her not to go, too. Jean
and Maurice came to escort Esperance, who had been
ready for a long time. Mile. Frahender was carry-
ing a cardboard box, containing two bonnets and a
light cloth, in which to wrap her hat in in the train.
All the rest of her belongings were contained in a
little attache case of grey duck, so flat that it seemed
Impossible that it could contain anything.

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

"I hope nothing bad will happen," thought the
good woman, "but railway accidents are so common
nowadays.'*

"Who will she be seeing while she is away? What
is destiny providing for her? My child is not armed
against adventure," the philosopher was thinking.

The two looked at each other, divining the miser-
able anxiety to which the other was prey.

THE IDOL OF PARIS 69

The rough, strident notes of Adhemar Meydleux's
voice suddenly broke upon this atmosphere of gentle
melancholy — "Well! what is this I hear? Esper-
ance has gone; it is madness! I read in my paper
this morning that she is going to play ^Dona SoV at
Brussels ! So I have come to escort her/*

Frangois wrung his hand without saying a word.

"What is the matter with you," went on Adhemar,
"you seem to have changed into pillars of salt. I
know very well that the theatre is Sodom and Gom-
orrah in one, but wait a little before you give way
entirely! Who is going with my goddaughter?"

"Mile. Frahender, Marguerite, Maurice Renaud
and Jean Perllez," the poor mother hastened to say.

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

70 THE IDOL OF PARIS

^'Not only noticed it, but encouraged the young
man," said Francois, "and he would be a very hon-
ourable and desirable son-in-law."

"My poor friend, my good fellow," and Adhemar
collapsed in a chair and rubbed his hands together;
"my poor dear friend, and you believe that Esper-
ance ... ?" he laughed aloud.

"I will thank you to drop that tone of irony which
is offensive both to my wife and to myself," said the
professor, rising. "If it pleases you to follow your
goddaughter to Brussels, do so. I must leave you;
I have some proofs to correct. 'Au revoir, Mey-
dieux!"

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

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

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

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

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

PART TWO

BRUSSELS

CHAPTER VIII

Meantime seated In the Brussels express, Esperance
had fixed her attention on the constantly changing
horizon, and was giving herself up to myriad impres-
sions as they went fleeting by. The great plains rol-
ling interminably out of sight pleased her; the light
mist rising from the earth seemed to her the breath
of the shivering tall grasses, offering the sun the
drops of dew which glinted at the summit of their
slender stems. She, too, on this beautiful autumn
morning, felt herself expanding towards the sky.
Her fresh lips were offering themselves to the kisses
of life. She was at that moment a vision of the radi-
ance of youth. Maurice was so struck by her beauty
that he drew a little sketch, and resolved to do her
portrait, just as she was at that moment. No love
entered into this admiration; he saw as a painter, he
dreamed as an artist! Jean Perliez looked at the
sketch, then at the model, and was left dazzled and
dolorous. Finally magnetized by the looks fixed up-
on her, Esperance turned her head away with a little
cry of surprise.

Mile. Frahender, who had been asleep, opened her
eyes and straightened the angle of her bonnet. Es-
perance shook her pretty head laughing, while

74 THE IDOL OF PARIS

Maurice exhibited his sketch and announced to his
cousin his desire to paint her portrait.

*'How pleased my father will be/' she cried. "I
thank you in advance for the joy that you will give
him."

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

Jean Perliez jumped lightly on to the platform.
Mile. Frahender adjusted her hat, after having care-
fully folded up her bonnet, and Maurice helped
Marguerite to count the pieces of luggage. Just as
Esperance was getting out to help her old companion,
she had a feeling of reaction, her face grew pale with
fright at an impression she could not define: two
long arms were stretched towards her. And she
recalled the hallucination or vision she had seen in
her own mirror at home, on the day when she had
tried to Interrogate destiny.

Count Albert Styvens was standing on the plat-
form before her, holding out his arms, his hands
open. Totally dazed without understanding herself
why it should be so, the young girl closed her eyes.
She felt herself lifted, and set down upon the ground.
Although the movement had been one of perfect re-
spect, she felt angry with this man for having im-
posed his will upon her. When she looked at him he
was already speaking to Mile. Frahender, whom he

THE IDOL OF PARIS 75

recollected having seen In Esperance's room at the
Vaudeville.

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

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

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

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

Esperance, who had been brimful of joy, not ten
minutes before, at finding herself in Brussels, now
felt a cloud upon her spirits. The manners, almost
the authority, of this tall, young man of dis-
tinction, but of no beauty, of no magnetism, de-
pressed her. She did not wish to have him take
it upon himself to conduct her small affairs, and
she stepped Into the Countess Styvens's beautiful
carriage with the feeling that she was leaving her
liberty behind.

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

As the carriage drew up at the hotel, all three
young men jumped lightly out to be ready to help

76 THE IDOL OF PARIS

the girl. Mile. Frahender v/as received on the
Count's arm. At the same Instant Esperance had
bounded out of the other door, pleased to have es-
caped the obligation of thanking the Legation Secre-
tary.

When she entered the suite that had been reserved,
she stopped a moment in silent astonishment before
the flowering vases and ribbon-bedecked baskets that
filled the reception-room with their rich colours and
delicate perfumes. All that for her ! She threw her
hat quickly on a chair and ran from vase to basket,
from basket to vase. The first card she drew out
said Jean Perliez. She looked for him to thank him,
but he had slipped away to hide his confusion. For
he had taken such pains to order that bouquet
through the hotel manager, never foreseeing that
others might have had the same idea ! A pretty
basket of azaleas came from the Director of the
Monnale. In the middle of the room, on a marble
table with protruding golden feet, stood a huge
basket of orchids of every shade — this orgy of rare
flowers was an attention from the Count. The girl
grew red as she raised her eyes to thank him. He
was looking at her so strangely that she stammered
and fled into the next room, where she had seen
Mile. Frahender disappear.

"That man frightens me," she whispered, press-
ing close to her old friend.

*'Who frightens you, dear child?"

"Count Styvens."

THE IDOL OF PARIS 77

"That gentlemanly young man, who is so con-
siderate?"

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

The maitre d'hotel knocked discreetly to announce
lunch.

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

They set out in great spirits, following wherever
the caprice of Esperance led them. "Already a fam-
ous woman, and what a child she Is," Maurice ob-
served aside to Jean. They had a long ramble, zig-
zagging extravagantly about the city. The adorable
little artist appreciated the beauty of the lovely capi-
tal, and the church of Saint Gudule delighted her.
They took a cab to go to the Bois de la Cambre.
Esperance was much affected by the horses, who led
a hard life up and down the little streets, which were
so picturesque in their unevenness.

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

During dinner Esperance was quite exuberant and
proposed a hand at trente-et-un as soon as dessert

78' THE IDOL OF PARIS

was finished. "After that, we will go to bed very
early, to have our best looks ready for to-morrow,
will we not, my little lady?" she said, placing her
slender hand on the wrinkled fingers of Mile. Fra-
hender. "My little lady" was the pet name Esper-
ance often gave her.

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

CHAPTER IX

The next morning Marguerite had some difficulty in
waking her young mistress, who was sleeping soundly.
Esperance enquired as soon as her own eyes were
well opened, what kind of night her chaperone had
passed. ^'Deliclously restful, and you, my dear child,
how did you sleep?"

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

*'It is the forerunner of good news," Jean cried
out from the next room.

"Who knows?" said Esperance.

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

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

The young people burst out laughing.

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

Meantime M. Meydieux was getting impatient on
the telephone.

"Tell him that I am not up yet, and ask him to

79

8o THE IDOL OF PARIS

lunch with us at twelve-thirty. Then," she explained
to Mile. Frahender, who had just come into her
room, all powdered, all pinned and bonneted for the
morning, "he will not dare to bother me when every-
body else is present."

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

Esperance was motioning violently to Marguerite
to hang up the receiver, but Mile. Frahender ob-
jected to this lack of courtesy, so the young girl giv-
ing way to her remonstrance yielded gracefully. She
even requested Marguerite, who knew her god-
father's culinary preferences, to order a lunch that
he would like. Then she dressed In haste to allow
herself plenty of time to write to her family. They
had already exchanged telegrams, but she knew that
her father would like to have a long letter, giving
him the minutes, so to speak, of herself. A tender
gratitude swelled up In her, and her eyes were wet
as she evoked the Image of these two beloved be-
ings reading her letter, commenting upon It, and en-
tering completely for those moments into the life of
their child. As soon as the letter was finished, she
asked Mile. Frahender to go with her to post It, so
that she could herself speed It on Its way to them.
She had a strong desire to get outdoors, even if only
for a half-hour.

THE IDOL OF PARIS 8i

As they turned into the square, Esperance stopped,
clutching her aged friend by the arm. "Look there,'*
she said.

There were two men side by side in deep conversa-
tion. Esperance had instantly recognized Count Al-
bert and her godfather. How did Adhemar Mey-
dieux happen to know the Secretary of the Legation?

They had just passed the post-office, so Esperance
posted her letter without being seen by either of them,
and returned to the hotel. Lunch time brought
together all the guests except the godfather, who
would not enter until the exact minute. If he had to
wait In the corridor. . . . He thought it witty to be-
have so. His hateful, stupid mind flattered itself on
being original. Therefore as the half-hour began to
strike he was pompously ushered In, watch In hand.

"I am here, you see, to the tick," he said noisily,
kissing the forehead his goddaughter pressed for-
ward to him. Then, turning to the waiter, "You can
serve without delay," he said. "I like my food hot.'*

Mile. Frahender, although she was well ac-
quainted with the abrupt ways of the godfather,
frowned at him with disapprobation. Nevertheless,
thanks to Maurice, who made a point of laughing
at everything Adhemar said, they had a gay luncheon,
and Adhemar himself, appreciating the consideration
shown for his palate, cast aside his ill humour and
enjoyed with full Indulgence the present hour, the
savoury food and the plentiful wine.

At the end of the meal he examined the room.

^2 THE IDOL OF PARIS

*'0n my word, my girl, they have given you the
royal suite : that must come pretty expensive."

*'M. Darbois," said Jean Perliez, "gave me a very
liberal sum of money, with instructions to spare noth-
ing for our little queen."

"There you have it, if that is not the exaggeration
of a lover! Little Queen! You are pouring poison
in continuous doses into this little head, which is
already full of nonsense. Esperance will end by
taking herself seriously; she is already far too dicta-
torial for a child of seventeen." He added to him-
self, "She must be corrected, I will do it myself!"

Esperance raised her eyelids, and her clear blue
eyes seemed to pierce the eyeballs of the foolish blun-
derer, until he fluttered his lashes and closed his eyes
to escape the powerful silent denial of his authority.

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

"Do not disturb yourself, M. Meydieux, Esper-
ance had a triumph at the last rehearsal at the
Francaise." (Mile. Frahender nodded agreement.)
"I believe," Jean continued, "that she is going to re-
ceive a perfect ovation this evening."

"I believe it too," added the old lady, "and permit

THE IDOL OF PARIS 83

me to state, my dear sir, that you judge my young
pupil very unfairly. She is just as modest, just as
gentle, as she was a year ago, and those who love her
may be well reassured of that fact. Since you are
among them,'* she went on boldly, "you should real-
ize it and rejoice in it."

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

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

"Count Albert Styvens," replied Jean.

"Ah! He does things well," commented Ad-
hemar, but he did not breathe a word concerning his
conversation with the Count that morning.

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

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

A little startled at finding five people in the room,
Mounet-Sully regained his assurance as he recog-
nized Jean and Maurice.

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

The young girl blushed with excitement. "It is
fortunate that I shall not see her, I think that I
should be paralyzed!"

84 THE IDOL OF PARIS

"Perhaps she will send for you after the rehear-
sal," returned the tragedian. "She is a patroness
of art, and very kind to artists."

"Will His Majesty, King Leopold, come this even-
ing?" demanded Meydleux, with great Interest.

"Certainly," Mounet-Sully assured him.

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

The door opened. Count Albert, being Introduced
by the maitre d^iotel, had heard the last words.

"I am just delivering It myself," he said, handing
Mile. Frahender a card which she read to Esper-
ance — "His Excellence, the Count de Bernecourt,
Minister of Belgium to France, and the Princess,
hope that Mile. Frahender and Mile. Esperance
Darbols will join them for supper after the play, at
midnight, at their house."

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

The raucous and heavy voice of the godfather pro-
nounced, "I win assume the responsibility. Your
mother encouraged me to watch over you. I consider
that this Is an honour which you should not decline."

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

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

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

She stopped short, and her expression implied dis-

THE IDOL OF PARIS 85

tress. Jean went forward at once. "I will go and
secure the connection for you," he said; "I will wait
for you downstairs."

The Count made a scarcely perceptible gesture, as
if to stop him; but he restrained himself and fol-
lowed the girl in silence out of the room. He rang,
the lift stopped before them, empty. Albert Styvens
went forward, but Esperance drew back, and then
she said, quickly, *'I will go down by the stairs."

And light as a breath, she was gone.

Alone in the lift, the young Count felt for a mo-
ment abashed, but he speedily recovered himself, and
when Esperance reached the bottom of the stair she
found him waiting for her.

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

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

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

He apologized, and was sincerely repentant. He
had acted without reflection; he had forgotten his
great strength which had this time served him ill.
He was violently attracted by this charming little
creature, with whom he admitted to himself that he
was deeply in love; he, who up to this time had al-
ways avoided women as if he feared them.

The telephone communication was lengthy. Fran-
cois Darbois gave his consent to his daughter to at-

86 THE IDOL OF PARIS

tend the supper. Madame Darbois was distracted,
and must find out what dress Esperance would wear.

*'I will keep on my costume from the last act of
Hernaniy* she answered, and after a gentle farewell,
Esperance hastened to the theatre for the rehearsal.

The director of the Monnaie announced that Her
Majesty had come and that they could begin.
Hugo's masterpiece was magnificently presented.
The greatest artists filled even minor roles. Mounet-
Sully surpassed himself, and Esperance drew cries of
admiration from that select but critical audience.

Count Albert was seated in the orchestra stalls,
with his mother. The Countess Styvens, widowed
after five years, had bestowed upon her son all the
affection she had cherished for her husband. She
had never left him, but had had him educated under
her own supervision, giving him at the age of nine,
as tutor, a Jesuit who w^as one of the most austere, if
also one of the most learned, of the Order. The
young man was a perfect pupil, studious, ever dis-
daining the pleasures of his age. His childhood
passed in the grey and pious atmosphere in which his
mother steeped herself. His youth developed under
the rule of his preceptor, a pale youth, without laugh-
ter, without aspirations. The physicians had never
been able to persuade the Countess to let her son have
the joy of travel of sea and mountain, so he had to
be satisfied with the physical exercises she permitted.
So he gave himself up to gymnastics with enthusiasm,
expending his youthful vigour against his drill pro-

THE IDOL OF PARIS 87

fessor, and the Japanese who taught him jiu-jitsu.
The boy's strength became quite remarkable. But
his pale face, disproportionately long arms, and repu-
tation for austerity, had made him the mark, from
the very first days of his diplomatic career, for the
gossips, ballad makers, and authors of questionable
cabaret skits.

The day he heard that he was serving as Turk's
head In a Brussels music-hall, he went Instantly be-
hind the scenes of the theatre and demanded the Di-
rector, who was In conversation with the author of
the piece. He went right up to them. *'I," he sald^
raising his hat politely, *^am Count Albert Styvens.
I win be very glad to have you suppress the scene,
which, I understand. Is Intended to caricature me."

The manager, a prosperous brewer, who had be-
come proprietor of a theatre for the pleasure of
producing revue, which if not witty were certainly
vulgar, shrugged his heavy shoulders.

"You expect me to lose money! That act Is one
of the best we have got."

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

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

The last word was not out of his mouth when the
Count grabbed both of them by the napes of their
necks and knocked their heads together till the blood
spurted from their surprised faces. Their cries were

88 THE IDOL OF PARIS

heard even by the audience. Reporters came run-
ning to see this unbilled spectacle. The stage hands
tried to free the Manager, but desisted when one
received a terrible smash from the Count's fist, and
another a kick that sent him through space. When
the two men were reduced to rags, Albert held them
upright and addressed them:

"I am going into the hall to see the show. I ad-
vise you to withdraw the scene we spoke of and to
which I object.''

Then he quietly rearranged his clothes and went
into the auditorium where the audience were very
noisy and laughing at the news the journalists had
reported. Count Albert was one of the best known
figures about Brussels, where his father had played a
very important part in the foreign affairs of the
country, and enjoyed, for more than twenty years,
the confidence of King Leopold. When he died his
wife was still a young and very beautiful woman,
and his great fortune had made the only heir of the
family already famous. The Count was astonished
at the clamorous ovation that received him. He
would have liked to impose silence on the people, but
he was a poor orator, and very timid; he kept silence
and went to his seat. He was popular from that day,
and greatly respected.

At the Monnaie, as soon as the rehearsal was over,
the Queen sent for Esperance and Mounet-SuUy.
The Queen assured the tragedian of the admiration
that she had long felt for him, for Mounet-SuUy

THE IDOL OF PARIS 89

played almost every year in Brussels; but all her
kindly enthusiasm was directed towards Esperance.

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

*'Seventeen, Madame."

The Queen undid a bracelet from her arm.

"Accept this modest souvenir of your first appear-
ance in our city, Mademoiselle."

The young girl trembled with emotion. After she
had kissed the royal hand, she tried to clasp upon her
wrist the jewel she had just received. The Countess
Styvens, who had just approached, helped her gently.

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

Esperance raised her eyes and looked at the
mother of the young man. She was dressed In
mauve; her temples, prematurely grey, accentuated
the delicacy of her complexion. Her whole person
breathed constant goodness, sacrifice without regret.
The young artist loved at sight this woman she was
beholding for the first time, and at the same time she
had a presentiment that this charming and elegant
lady would not remain a stranger to her during her
life.

The Queen desired Count Styvens to accompany
the young girl, who was forced to take his arm to
her dressing-room. She walked quickly, in a hurry
to rid herself of her strange cavalier, who pretended
to be oblivious of her nervous haste. Esperance re-
quested him to convey to the Countess, his mother^

00 THE IDOL OF PARIS

V

her gratitude for her kindness. Albert Styvens
bowed without speaking, and left her In a glow of de-
light.

At the hotel there was no topic except the rehear-
sal and the reception the Queen had given Esper-
ance. The godfather examined the bracelet set with
sapphires and diamonds. He put on his glasses,
counted the stones, shook his head and grunted, ''It
is a superb bracelet, do you realize that, child?''

"I realize that It Is superb because It is a testimony
of good will offered by this kind Sovereign. That is
what makes It so valuable to me."

"What a haughty child!"

And Adhemar began to laugh, the laugh with
which realism strives to destroy dreams. Mile. Fra-
hender gently removed the bracelet from the hands
of the objectionable old meddler.

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

"In my opinion, M. Meydleux, you annoy my
cousin too much, and for no reason. You forget that
she has created for herself a position beyond her
years, and you treat her like a child not out of the
schoolroom."

"Well, isn't it all for her good?" screamed out
Adhemar in a fury. "The rest of you burn incense

THE IDOL OF PARIS 91

before her; she will be destroyed by pride and that
will be your fault!''

"No such thing," returned Maurice with equal
energy. "She is adorable in her simplicity and has
remained as really childlike, as trusting and light-
hearted as anyone in the world. You cast a gloom on
her spirits, you try to curb her spontaneity, you want
her bourgeoisie like yourself, but you will never suc-
ceed, I give you my word for it, and that is a bless-
mg.

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

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

"Oh! oh! oh!" screamed Meydieux.

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

"And that is?"

92 THE IDOL OF PARIS

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

"You are insolent! It Is not worth my while to
reply to you. You may tell my goddaughter . . ."

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

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

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

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

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

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

Esperance blew a kiss to the two young men.

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

CHAPTER X

The performance was an unparalleled triumph for
the players and little ''Dona SoT received the most
flattering part of the success. The King, knowing
that the Queen had already favoured this delightful
child, would not be outdone in generosity, and sent to
the dressing-room of the new star a very beautiful
ring, set with a magnificent pearl and two diamonds.
Esperance, who had never had any jewellery except
a gold chain that her mother's aunt had left her and
the little ring her father had given her for her first
communion, found herself, in one day, possessor of
two ornaments which the most fastidious worldling
would not have disdained. She put the ring immedi-
ately on her first finger, since it was a little loose for
the ring finger, and looked at herself in the glass,
arranging a lock of hair with the ringed hand, rais-
ing an eyebrow and laughing delightedly to see the
effect produced by the ring. Count Albert watched
her from the neighbouring room where he was wait-
ing. His face was of a livid pallor. His heart beat
so fast that he felt weak, and was forced to sit down.
He was out of his senses. All the frenzy of youth,
repressed so long, mounted in a wave to his brain.
Marguerite, coming to dress her mistress, an-

93

94 THE IDOL OF PARIS

nounced that the gentlemen were waiting. She
quickly threw on a cloak, saying, "I am ready."

Mou net-Sully and Count Albert entered together.
The Count offered his arm to the old Mademoiselle,
and Esperance, free of the contact that disturbed her,
joyfully accepted the tragedian's assistance.

The supper was charming, and proved to the
young girl that the feasts of artists and men of the
world do not end in the orgies described by the odious
godfather. The young girl was at the right of the
Prince with Mounet-SuUy opposite, at the right of the
Princess. None of the guests could help noticing the
Count's agitation. The Military Aide, representing
King Leopold, Baron von Berger, was an old friend
of the Styvens's family. He was uneasy, and when
he saw the young Count preparing to take the ladies
home, "No, no, my boy," he said to him in a low
tone, "You are not yourself — you are distraught. I
am afraid that you have been hard hit."

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

"Well, now I am going to escort these ladies, and
to-morrow I will have a talk with you.'*

Esperance slept badly and woke late. The old
Mademoiselle was sitting beside her, spectacles across
her nose, reading the papers. Her kind face was
beaming. She was cutting out and putting aside
certain articles, then she pinned them in order, all
ready to send to M. and Madame Darbois.

THE IDOL OF PARIS 95

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

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

Mile. Frahender at that moment had her reward
for all the little sacrifices she had made for her pupil.

The critics were dithyrambic in their discourses
concerning the new *'Dona Sol/' but the casual re-
porters were, as always, indiscreet, and disguised the
truth under little prevarications, fantastic and sug-
gestive. After having read two or three of the arti-
cles, Esperance pushed them all aside. She took the
name of all the critics, and wrote them little notes of
thanks, while Mile. Frahender added the addresses.
In the neighbouring room a discussion was going on
between her knight-attendants. Esperance did not
gather its cause, although certain phrases were audi-
ble.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"That is not a very gallant morning greeting,

96 THE IDOL OF PARIS

cousin, but you have not forgotten your promise to
take me to the Museum this morning, I hope.'*

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

She heard the door close.

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

"And at your service," he replied.

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

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

"I see, thank you."

After lunch the travellers set out for the Museum.
Maurice was surprised and delighted by the Instinct
that guided his cousin towards the best that was In
the pictures. He explained to her In the language
affected by painters the reason for certain unreal
shadows in a certain picture, and the necessity of
them, the tact a painter must use In managing his
light, the difficulty of foreshortening. He told her
the well-known anecdote of Delacroix replying to the
professor who objected that he had put a full face eye
in a profile, "But, my dear master, I have tried every-
thing and that is the only eye that gives the profile
Its proper value." And the professor of the great
painter-to-be, after several sketches on the transpar-
ent paper over his pupil's canvas, said to him, "You
are entirely right. Keep that full face eye."

They left the Museum, animated by different feel-
ings. The more that Maurice discovered his cousin's

THE IDOL OF PARIS 97

noble qualities, the delicacy of her feelings, the
strength of her loyalty, the more he felt of protective
affection for this child who was so pure, so free, and
who had made her entry so bravely Into the whirl-
pool where things are generally turbulent, and most
brutal In the brutal side of Parisian life. The admir-
ation of his twenty years, for Esperance's alluring
beauty, was purified into a friendship which he felt
growing deeper and stronger. As to Jean Perliez,
he had become more and more resigned that his
love should remain forever in the shade, unlimited
devotion for all time, all his being offered In sacrifice
to the frail Idol, who went her way star-gazing, un-
suspecting all the time that she was trampling upon
hearts under-foot.

CHAPTER XI

M. AND Madame Darbois had received the tele-
gram announcing the return of their daughter, and
were at the station to meet her. Esperance saw them
and would have jumped out before the train had
fully stopped. Maurice held her just In time.

*'No foolishness there, little cousin. Your body-
guards must return you Intact to your family's four
arms. One more moment of patience. What a
hurry you are In to be rid of us."

She held out her little hands to the two young men.
*'0h, naughty Maurice ! You know very well that I
shall never forget these three days we have passed to-
gether, when you have been so good to me and
taught me so much."

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

The train stopped and the Darbols family were In
an instant reunited. Mile. Frahender declined escort
to her convent. Francois Darbols installed her In a
landau, and after he had thanked her heartily for
her kindness to his daughter, gave the address to the
coachman, who drove away with the old lady holding
her inevitable little package on her lap, and studying
her old-fashioned little attache case on the seat op-
posite.

98

THE IDOL OF PARIS 99

The Darbols family took their places in another
carriage. Esperance must sit between her father and
mother, leaning close to them, caressing them end-
lessly, and dropping her little blonde head on her
mother's shoulder.

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

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

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

The carriage stopped at the Boulevard Raspail.
The concierge came forward.

"I am sure I hope that Mademoiselle has had a

success."

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

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

Sadness overcame her.

loo THE IDOL OF PARIS

She was still sad when she entered her own room.
She touched all the familiar little objects, and kissed
the feet of the Ivory Virgin upon her mantel-piece
with great emotion. She thanked her mother with a
look when she saw the fresh marguerites in the two
enamel vases. In comparison with the luxury of her
apartment at the Grand Hotel in Brussels, the simple
surroundings of her own room charmed her anew.
She swayed for a moment In her rocking-chair, sat
down on her low stool, knelt upon her bed to
straighten the branch of box beneath the silver cruci-
fix her mother had given her when she was seventeen.

Marguerite came in with the trunk and luggage.

*'What Is that?" asked Esperance, spying a big
box fastened with nails.

*'I don't know anything about it. Mademoiselle.
They gave it to me at the hotel saying It was for
you."

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

Esperance grew pale; she took the card from her
mother's hands, fearing that she might be mistaken.
It was indeed the Countess and not the Count. She
breathed again ! Marguerite and the maid carried
the basket into the salon; then the young girl went
into the library with her mother. The newspaper
clippings were spread out on the table, and the two
famous trinkets had been taken from their cases.

THE IDOL OF PARIS loi

Madame Darbois clasped and unclasped her hands.

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

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

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

"Why, no, it Is out of the question.''

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

M. Darbois had turned his attention to the notices,
having pushed aside the descriptive paragraphs. He
read them and gave them to his wife.

"Your godfather came to complain to us of Mau-
rice, of Jean Perliez, and of yourself. You all dis-
pleased him; tell us just what happened?"

Esperance recounted the happenings with perfect
impartiality, adding honestly that she had done noth-
ing to try to persuade her godfather to remain. The
philosopher smiled.

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

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

102 THE IDOL OF PARIS

"Is Count Albert Styvens of the Legation any re-
lation of hers?"

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

"Your godfather spoke to me of this young man,
who, it seems, wants to complete his studies in phi-
losophy."

The poor little star trembled. She was on the
point of confessing all her presentiments, her terrors,
to her father. . . . But he had just sat down to his
desk and seemed already indifferent to what was go-
ing on around him. She went softly out of the li-
brary, following her mother, who was bearing away
the newspaper excerpts and the royal jewel cases.

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

"I advise you, my boy," the Baron was saying
brusquely, "to ask for another post. You, so sensi-
ble, too sensible, for a man of your age, in fact its
a little ridiculous . . ."

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

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

THE IDOL OF PARIS 103

Albert Styvens felt the blood run into his temples,
but he did not answer.

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

For an instant a vertigo froze the young man's
forehead. His heart stopped beating, his throat con-
tracted with a terrific pressure of blood. He did
not answer a word.

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

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

Then, after a moment more of silence, he declared,
"Yes, I am desperately in love with this young girl,
and I am going to try everything, not to make her
love me, for that she probably never will — but that
she will let herself be loved. What will come of it, I
have not the least idea. I want her and no one else.
I will commit no disloyal act, I give you my word for
that. If she should become my wife, it would be
with my mother's full permission. I beg you now,
my dear Baron, to say nothing further about it;
I am old enough to regulate my life, as much as
the divine guiding force which you call 'Destiny'
permits."

104 THE IDOL OF PARIS

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

The Baron recognized the opposition of an un-
changeable will to his own, which no discussion could
influence.

CHAPTER XII

Life had resumed its regular course In the apart-
ment on the Boulevard Raspall, but an important
relationship was developing in Esperance's life.
Count Albert Styvens came three times a week to
pursue his philosophic studies with Professor Dar-
bois. This arrangement had been contrived by the
hypocrite, Adhemar Meydieux. He did not mistake
the Count's Infatuation for his goddaughter. A mar-
riage of such wealth and aristocratic connections flat-
tered his foolish egoism, and he was sworn to attempt
everything that would bring about such a magnificent
consummation.

A friend of the family. Doctor Bertaud, noticed
alarming symptoms in the girl, most prevalent be-
tween five and seven o'clock each evening. He
could not ascertain the cause, but persuaded the phi-
losopher to take her to Doctor Potain, a celebrated
heart specialist. Madame Darbois took Esperance
for an examination.

Francois was perfectly amazed by the deep culture
of the Count, who at first sight seemed of only
average Intelligence. When the family gathered to-
gether for dinner, he commented on his impressions
to his wife and daughter.

105

io6 THE IDOL OF PARIS

"This young man Is a very remarkable personal-
ity," he said, 'Very difficult to penetrate, yet never-
theless very sincere. I do not believe that the slight-
est untruth has ever crossed his lips. I enjoy work-
ing with him. Ah ! that reminds me, I have invited
him to dine with us on Thursday. He is very anxious
to be presented to you, and Esperance already knows
him, so I thought you would find it agreeable."

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

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

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

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

Her eyes invoked the Virgin of ivory. Her two
arms extended, implored her, but it seemed to Esper-
ance that they were opened also to whatever dis-
couragement Destiny might have in store. She fell
asleep in her chair, worn out by self-hypnosis on the
holy image.

A horrible nightmare unfolded in her brain. She
found herself on a great map of the world, with a
voice calling to her, "Why are you frozen there, why
don't you move? You are free as the air of this

THE IDOL OF PARIS 107

great globe." Then she began to walk, but at once
she saw the earth open and long tentacles, like arms,
emerge to clutch her. She recoiled quickly and
started In another direction but the same phenome-
non occurred again. After that she determined to
climb on to a great plain that she saw ahead. She
thought she was safe when all at once she saw arising
on every side the frightful tentacles which crept
along her hiding-place, viscous and black, nearer,
near enough to touch her. An indescribable terror
brought her to her feet with a cry for help ! Mile.
Frahender and Marguerite came running in. They
found her pale and bathed In perspiration. Her lips
were trembling, stammering. It was five minutes
before she recovered herself. She described her
dream, and the old Mademoiselle prescribed a little
walk In the air. The child followed her chaperon
with nervous docility.

It was the day after the next when Albert Sty-
vens was to come to dinner. Esperance had thought
of saying that she was III, but her heart misgave her
at the thought of the anxiety she would occasion her
mother, and then . . . and then . . . the dinner
would be postponed, and ''This man will have what
he will have, and I am the prey of his dream," she
said with a sigh of resignation.

The dinner was arranged for seven-thirty. The
young Count presented himself at seven-fifteen, hav-
ing been preceded by two great bunches of flowers,
for Madame Darbols and Esperance, who was at the

io8 THE IDOL OF PARIS

piano when he came Into the room. The Count en-
tered with Madame Darbols, whom her husband had
just presented to her, and they stopped silent to listen
to Mendelssohn's beautiful nocturne, "Song of a
Summer Night." When the last echoes of the last
phrase had died away, discreet applause was wafted
to her. She swung quickly on her stool and found
herself before the young man who was bowing, and
taking the hand she held out to him. She had not
yet overcome that terror he inspired in her, and was
surprised to find him so much at ease. After dinner
they talked of music, and Esperance, praising a mag-
nificent duet of Liszt, from the symphony of Or-
pheus, was overcome when the young man rose, took
her hand and led her towards the piano.

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

The Count was intoxicated by the light perfume of
Esperance's body there so near him that he seemed
almost to touch her. His strong hands rose and fell
beside her delicate fingers, making the young girl
think of a great hawk fluttering over white pigeons,
at the farm of Penhouet In Brittany, where for years
she had spent her holidays. The fragment was exe-
cuted brilliantly, for these two persons, united in
their enthusiasm for art, although so different in per-
sonal reactions, gave the two auditors of this musical
treat a magnificent Interpretation of Liszt's genius.

THE IDOL OF PARIS 109

Frangols Darbois and his wife, both distinguished in
their appreciation of the beautiful, could not suffi-
ciently thank the Count, dividing his praises with
congratulations to their daughter.

*'You surpassed yourself, my dear," said the phi-
losopher, "but then I admit that you have never be-
fore had such a partner. It v/as really remarkable.'*

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

The maid, helping her to undress, exclaimed,
*'How grand it was this evening. Mademoiselle, and
what a fine young gentleman!"

Esperance shrugged her shoulders disdainfully.
Marguerite, coming in to see that the young mistress
whom she adored wanted nothing, could not help
saying, "Ah ! Mademoiselle, what talent he has, that
young Count! How well you two did look, your
backs, sitting side by side I I just said to my-
self . . ."

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

But she did not sleep.

CHAPTER XIII

The last presentation of Sardou's play was a veri-
table ovation for Esperance. Flowers were pre-
sented to her on the stage. Two baskets attracted
special attention, one overflowing with white orchids;
the other, with gardenias, so powerful In their sweet-
ness that even the first rows of the orchestra felt
their strength. It was rumoured In the boxes that
the white orchids were sent by the Countess Styvens
and her son Albert, who were sitting In a stall In the
auditorium. As to the gardenias, the card attached
to the green ribbons of the basket revealed the name
of the most elegant clubman of Pa»rls, the Duke
Charles de Morlay-La-Branche. He was a hand-
some man of thirty-two, very wealthy, adored by
women, popular with men. A ripple ran through
the audience.

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

"They know each other?"
"No, he has never been presented."
"No, look out for the love of the Immaculate Al-
bert," said mockingly a beautiful woman with bold
eyes, glancing toward the stall occupied by Albert

and his mother; but her eyes widened at seeing the

no

THE IDOL OF PARIS iii

Duke enter to present his compliments to the Count-
ess Styvens. A few minutes later he was seen to go
out with Count Albert. He was going to be pre-
sented to the young artist.

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

*'That should be good sport to watch," said an old
beau. "I am betting on the Duke."

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

A journalist, thin, blonde, very young, just begin-
ning his career, had followed the Duke and the Count
behind the scenes. He accompanied them into
Esperance's little room and described what happened
as follows : —

''She was holding the two cards, there in the midst
of the overpowering odour of gardenias. She
blushed when she heard the name of the Duke Al-
bert Styvens was presenting to her. She thanked
them both very prettily, but without showing any
preference for either. The Duke began complimen-

112 THE IDOL OF PARIS

tary speeches without making any impression. When
they took leave, he wanted to kiss Esperance's hand,
but she withdrew it, looking very much surprised.
This rather confused the Duke. As soon as these
gentlemen departed I was presented, and her manner
was just as charming. Jean Perliez came in just then
to tell her that the curtain would go up in three
minutes. He brought her a bunch of Parma violets,
and she took them from him and put them in her gir-
dle; you will see her wearing them on the stage.
Perliez is desperately in love with her, and he grew
very pale. He went out without a word. I think he
must have gone to cry out his emotion in a corner.
That is all," concluded the rising journalist.

He repeated his story twenty times, and by next
morning all Paris knew that the Duke de Morlay-
La-Branche had been received by Esperance like
any other gentleman, that Count Albert Styvens had
been non-committal, and that Jean Perliez had been
overcome. The young journalist wrote a very sug-
gestive article concerning this little scene, highly or-
namented with phrases that attracted attention; but
unfortunately the editor refused to print it. The
Duke did not care for notoriety, and was, moreover,
a renowned fencer, so the editor exercised his dis-
cretion. Count Styvens belonged to the foreign
diplomacy and was very particular, and no one had
infringed on his privacy since the little affair in the
Brussels music hall. That left only Jean Perliez,
who was merely sincere and pathetic; the public did

THE IDOL OF PARIS 113

not want to read that kind of thing! So much for
the Httle journalist.

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

One evening at dinner the conversation turned up-
on music, and a guest regretted the mechanical per-
formance of the musical prodigies at the Conserva-
toire.

"It gives them a certain amount of cleverness, or
technique, or whatever you like to call it, but there
is no flair of the ideal, and often no important per-
sonality."

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

Almost a sensation was produced among the
guests.

The Countess said with her sweet smile, "I see
that they teach you here as well as at Brussels."

"That does not affect me, mother, you see; I re-
main faithful to my ideal."

"Never mind, tell us the name of this new dis-
covery."

"Her name is Esperance Darbois," said Albert
rising, resting his two hands on the table. Then,

114 THE IDOL OF PARIS

having produced his effect, he sat down again.

"What! she is a good musician too?"

^'Excellent," rephed Albert, "and I will wager
that whoever hears her will agree with me."

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

"I study with her father, Francois Darbois, so I
have become a friend of the family. They asked me
to dinner once, and I was early enough to hear Mile.
Esperance play. After dinner we played a very
difficult duet together. She had absolute command
of her execution and her emotion."

A young attache murmured to an amiable dowa-
ger, "I am afraid that they have completely taken
him in."

Count Albert sprang to his feet.

"I am not willing that you should try to belittle
this family whom you do not know. Francois Dar-
bois, the philosopher, is a fine character, of unparal-
leled honour and integrity: his wife has never fre-
quented the world where people are ^taken in,' as you
say, and as for Mile. Esperance ... so much the
better if you do not know her."

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

Everyone kept quiet and listened to what the Duke

THE IDOL OF PARIS 115

had to say. It was well known that he was attracted
by Esperance's beauty and talent, and it was also
known that he was a sceptic, a raller, not easy for
anyone to "take In." The attache, not knowing how
to back out of his awkward position, apologized for
having spoken In jest. He had heard . . . but the
world Is so unjust . . . etc., etc. No one listened.

*'For my part," said the Princess, *'I see only one
way to put to the proof the statements of the Duke
de Morlay-La-Branche and Count Albert, and that
is to ask the Darbols family to dinner. Afterwards,
Albert must undertake to persuade this adorable lit-
tle comedian to reveal her ability as a musician."

The Minister was most agreeable and said, "All
our guests this evening must be present at the din-

ner."

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

The only difficulty was to find a suitable excuse for
inviting the Darbols. Chances proved Itself the
Count's accomplice. In conversation with the pro-
fessor the next day the Count was told that there
would be no lesson on the next Tuesday, because the
professor was to deliver an address on the question
of the hour — "Can philosophy and religion evolve
without danger In the same mind?" The conference
was to be held at the home of Madame Lamarre, the
wife of a fashionable painter. Albert knew that his
mother was a great friend of this lady. He told the
Countess and the Princess, and it was agreed that

ii6 THE IDOL OF PARIS

they should both go to this conference. When the
Professor was presented it would be easy for the
Princess to say that Countess Styvens was anxious to
meet again her little friend of Brussels, then the
invitation could easily follow. Everything happened
according to the Count's plans.

Francois Darbois had a great success; the Catho-
lic party owed him recognition for his noble disserta-
tion on the role of philosophy in religion. He was
a fervent follower of the author of "The Genius of
Christianity."

The Princess de Bernecourt presented sincere com-
pliments to the affable philosopher. The Countess
Styvens presented herself to Madame Darbois, who
thanked her for her special kindness to Esperance,
who regretted that she had not herself been able
to thank her sufficiently.

"Now won't you," said the charming Princess,
"do us the honour to come to dinner at the Legation
next week? That will give the Countess and myself
a chance to renew our acquaintance with your ador-
able daughter."

Francois, being appealed to, accepted the Invita-
tion for the following Tuesday.

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

On their return the Darbois found Esperance very
anxious to learn the result of the conference. Fran-

THE IDOL OF PARIS 117

^ois said very simply as he kissed his daughter,
*'You would have been satisfied . . .'*

But Madame Darbois, made loquacious by her
husband's success, recounted everything at length
and the triumph obtained by her husband in every
detail. The invitation to dine at the Belgian Min-
ister's rather dismayed. In truth distressed, Esper-
ance. Her joy in her father's success was dimin-
ished by this prospect. Count Styvens was certainly
not unaware of this unexpected invitation.

*'You are quite right, little daughter," went on
Madame Darbois, "the mother of the young Count is
perfectly delightful. She is especially anxious to
see you."

Esperance breathed deeply, as if to draw more
strength from within. She knew her parents were
flattered at the idea that the attentions of the young
Count could only end in an offer of marriage. They
were not ignorant that she did not love him, but they
hoped that she would in time be touched by his re-
spectful affection. The philosopher and his wife had
often talked of this prospect with each other. They
did not want to cause any pain to their cherished
daughter. M. Darbois had already had to give up
all idea of Jean Perliez, for he had begged him not
to speak of him to Esperance. She was his goddess;
he adored her but felt unworthy of her. With resig-
nation Frangois charged his wife to find out Esper-
ance's state of mind, but these were futile efforts.

ii8 THE IDOL OF PARIS

Madame Darbois could never approach the burning;
question; she hovered round it with such uncertainty
that Esperance never for an instant suspected her
mother's real motive in the long talks they had to-
gether.

CHAPTER XIV

A RADIANT sun woke Esperance on the following
Tuesday. Her thoughts, always on the future, re-
fused to be subjugated by the confused anguish she
felt which almost stifled her. Yet this evening was
sure to be one of importance in her young life ! Had
the Count said anything to her mother? She re-
jected the idea that he could think of her as capable
of becoming his mistress. . . . Then, his wife? She
would not give up the theatre. . . . *'No, nothing in
the world could make up for that, far rather death.''
And she smiled at the idea that she might perhaps
become a victim of the great art. She saw herself
struggling against all hardships and dying as an
adored victim of circumstances, regretted and wept
by the many who loved her.

Her imaginative speculations were rudely inter-
rupted by Marguerite bringing in her chocolate. On
the tray was a card with a little present for the even-
ing. Esperance read the card, and taking the bou-
quet looked at It a long time until tears veiled her
pretty eyes.

*'Poor fellow," she said, "I did not think of his

side of it."

For the first time Esperance absented herself from

119

120 THE IDOL OF PARIS

the Conservatoire voluntarily. She had so much to
do ! She wanted to look beautiful, "perfectly beau-
tiful," she confided to Mile. Frahender.

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

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

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

When Francois and his family were announced in
the salon of the Princess, the Minister hastened for-
ward to convey Madame Darbois to a seat, after
presenting her to the Dowager Duchess de Castel-
Montjoie, Mile. Jeanne Tordeine, of the Theatre-
Frangais, and several other guests.

Esperance's entrance roused the curiosity of all.
The Duke de Morlay-La-Branche, after conversing

THE IDOL OF PARIS 121

for a few minutes to Francois Darbois, whom he had
met several weeks before, came up to the young girl
as she was standing before the Countess Styvens,
replying to the compliments the charming lady was
paying her.

"I am told that you are quite a clever musician.'*

Esperance looked up to reproach the Count for
his indiscretion in speaking about her playing, but
her eyes met the ardent gaze of the Duke. She was
agitated, thinking, *'How handsome he is, and I
had never noticed it.''

"Yes, indeed, Mademoiselle," he continued in his
easy, agreeable manner, "we hear that you have
captivated Count Styvens with your playing, and as
perhaps you know he is recognized as being quite
a dilettante authority."

Esperance strived to speak, but nervousness pre-
vented her. She sat down quickly beside the Coun-
tess, and crept close to her. A completely new sen-
sation seemed to invade her whole being. She had
a strange feeling of uncertain joy tinged with pain
and yet she loved this sensation that troubled her,
this half-fright which gave her a slight shiver. The
Duke brought up a chair and seemed to be exerting
all his charm and animation for the Countess, but
it was easy to see that all this charm, all this wit,
were intended for the pretty creature who appeared
powerless to resist his fascinating personality.

When dinner was announced the Duke offered his
arm to the Countess, the Minister his to Madame

122 THE IDOL OF PARIS

Darbols, the Princess took the arm of the philoso-
pher. While Esperance naturally accepted the arm
of Count Albert. She looked at him more attentively
than she had ever done before, and involuntarily
made a comparison between him and the Duke not
altogether to his advantage.

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

At the same instant the Count's arm pressed her
delicate wrist. She had again to restrain the repug-
nance she had felt before, and her terrible night-
mare came back to her. She let herself fall rather
than sit in the chair to which Albert Styvens had
conducted her. Here she found herself between the
Count and the young Baron de Montrieux, who at-
tempted, with the most charming courtesy to forestall
her every want and monopolize all her attention.
The Baron was overflowing with wit and Esperance
listened with delight.

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

There was enthusiastic applause. The Count bent

THE IDOL OF PARIS 123

before Esperance, who, in a burst of artistic appre-
ciation, expressed her admiration.

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

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

The Duke came forward, and hearing the con-
versation joined in with a request that was almost
like pleading. Styvens held out his angular fist to
the young girl; the Duke extended a long white
hand; and so both led her to the piano. The Duke's
fingers pressed her palm lightly but with a suggestion
of encouragement, while the Count's held her like
a vice that would never open. In spite of her protes-
tations, Esperance was installed at the piano, and Es-
perance resolved to put all her best into her playing
with the hope of being able to transport her audience
into the highest realms of the art that can express
great aspiration blended with the pathos of suffering.
Charles de Morlay-La-Branche withdrew to the rear
of the long room, and stood alone, leaning against a
beautiful Italian window, to listen and to watch. A
conflict of feelings were struggling within him. He
was fighting against the attraction of this slender
creature, whose white shoulders and delicate body
were swaying with a phrase now violent, now sub-

124 THE IDOL OF PARIS

dued, her whole person actuated, controlled by the
rhythm of the music. The heavy frame work of
Count Styvens seemed an anchor for the fragile idol.
The Duke gnawed his lip in suppressed emotional
anger.

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

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

They brought her a refreshing and soothing drink.
The Princess's attendants bathed her temples with
Eau de Cologne. Esperance breathed more quietly
and rose, thanking the Princess; then suddenly col-
lapsed on her knees, sobbing, without strength, with-
out consciousness, and Madame Darbois was sum-
moned to her side at once.

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

THE IDOL OF PARIS 125

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

In about an hour she awoke, refreshed, uncon-
scious of what had happened to her or where she
was. Her father and mother were beside her. She
got up, and one of the maids came to her. She then
remembered, and asked how long she had been
asleep.

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

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

"Would you not like me to call her?"

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

In the ante-chamber two men-servants were in at-
tendance. One of them was helping Madame Dar-
bols, and Esperance, still confused, slipped her arms
in the sleeves of her cloak, and then stopped short.
Her bare arm had been touched, she was sure of it.

She turned quickly. Her eyes met the Duke's
enquiring but not altogether pleasant glance. With
a quick gesture the girl clasped her mantle about

126 THE IDOL OF PARIS

her, and haughtily moved away without acknowledg-
ing the Duke's bow.

Neither M. nor Madame Darbois had seen any-
thing of what had just passed.

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

*'I have just passed the Darbois in the cloak-room.
The little flirt was in a pitiful state : I helped her on
with her cloak and her skin was like ice.'*

Count Styvens turned almost in anger and his
hands furtively opened and closed. A feeling of
enmity was rising in his generous soul. He felt that
the Duke had spoken slightingly of Esperance to
wound him. Twice, during dinner, he had caught
the covetous glance of the Duke fixed on Esperance,
and he had suffered acutely in consequence. He
looked at the Duke coldly; his shyness would have
made him dumb had it not been for the sustaining
power of his anger.

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

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

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

And he went to take his leave of the Princess, who
had quietly witnessed and understood the pantomime
that had passed between these two men.

^Tou did right, my friend," she said to the Duke.
"Albert is a brave and loyal fellow."

THE IDOL OF PARIS 127

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

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

"You find that a virtue, Princess?"

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

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

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

"But he is in love now."

The Princess saw that the Duke enjoyed seeing her
hesitation before answering. So she said nothing
at all, but held out her hand; which he kissed re-
spectfully and went his way.

CHAPTER XV

EsPERANCE had returned home quite furious with
the manner of the Duke de Morlay-La-Branche,
which she considered Insolent. She had passed a bad
night, waking every few moments. She compared
the dignified and honourable affection of the Count
with the offensive manner of the Duke. Her
thoughts flew to Madame Styvens as to a refuge.
She was possessed of great tenderness towards this
charming woman, whose life of purity and goodness
won the admiration of all who knew her. On her
side there was no doubt that the Countess loved the
young girl, but although she did not cherish the nar-
row and false Ideas of many of her friends against
the theatre, she would have preferred to have Esper-
ance give up her career. . . .

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

"It Is Impossible," he affirmed, "to let things go
any further. Albert cannot marry an actress. I
realize that the Darbols family is very respectable;
the young girl seems to me above reproach or criti-
cism, but she must give up this career. The Countess
Styvens is not for the public eye, and if she loves

him . . ."

128

7'

r .

U

THE IDOL OF PARIS 129

"But she does not love him."

Van Berger was silenced for a moment.

*'What do you say? She does not love him.
And you approve of such a union?"

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

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

"What do I care about the superficial friendship

I30 THE IDOL OF PARIS

of such people, if the happiness of my son is at stake !
Thank you, dear friend, for your loyal Insistence.
I understand It, but I know that even if you do not
succeed In convincing me you will not desert me in
iny trouble. Thank you."

The Baron kissed the noble lady's hand.

The time of the trial performance at the Conser-
vatoire was drawing near. Esperance had resumed
her usual life, alternately calm and feverish. She
was studying for the Competition. She often wrote
to Countess Styvens, who had returned to Brussels,
on the subject. Before she left, the Countess had
come to see the little invalid, who had touched her
heart so much that special evening at the Princess's.
She had also got to know the professor and his wife
more intimately. The family attracted her, and she
felt a large sympathy for them all. Of course she
was fully aware of the love her son had for Esper-
ance and resignedly left events in the hands of God.
What did disturb Albert's mother a little was the
vehemence Esperance showed in regard to her thea-
trical career, and the way she rejected the most
guarded remonstrances against her following that
calling.

"No, no," said Esperance to Mme. Styvens, "no,
no, no; the theatre Is not a house of evil repute, nor
are its followers evil doers: the theatre is a temple
where the beautiful is always worshipped; it makes
a continuous appeal to the higher senses and natural
passions. In this temple vice is punished, and virtue

THE IDOL OF PARIS 131

rewarded; the great social problems are presented.
In this temple instruction is less abstract, and, there-
fore, more profitable for the crowd. The apostles
of this temple are full of faith and courage; they
have the souls of missionaries marching always to-
ward the ideal."

The trials at the Conservatoire were to take place
on the fifteenth of July. Esperance was ambitious
and strove for the first prize in both comedy and
tragedy. The year before the jury had only awarded
her two secondary prizes; not that she had not de-
served the first, but that on account of her youth they
had thought it wiser to keep her back for another
year. The young artist was to compete for tragedy
in the first act of Phedre, for comedy in Alfred de
Musset's Barberine.

The dawn of the fifteenth was clear and quiet.
Genevieve and Jean arrived at eight-thirty in the
evening to rehearse their scenes for the last time.
Jean had in his hand a tiny package. As he was
about to give it to Esperance, the maid entered with
a large box marked ''Lachaujme," Florist, which she
gave to Mile. Frahender. On observing this, Jean
quickly hid his package in his pocket. Esperance
had opened the box and taken out a posy of gar-
denias, which she slipped into her belt. Again the
maid entered with a similar box containing orchids.
Esperance blushed, and then tore the bouquet from
her belt so quickly that she hurt her finger. She had
not seen that a card attached to the flowers by a pin

132 THE IDOL OF PARIS

read — "Duke de Morlay-La-Branche." Scornfully,
she at once threw the bouquet aside. Mile. Frahen-
der spoke to her in English to rebuke her for such
conduct, whatever its motive. Esperance excused
herself. *'Be indulgent to me, little lady," she said,
in her most winning way; "I am a little nervous
just now."

She put the white orchids that Count Styvens had
just sent to her in her belt. Jean Perliez picked up
the discarded bouquet and the card. He was more
disturbed by her anger against the Duke than by her
passive acceptance of the young Count's gift. She
had talked to him continually of the Duke, criticizing
him it is true, but Jean felt in these reproaches that
Esperance was more or less practising some deceit.
Esperance had wished to have Jean defend the Duke,
heap on him praise rather than the blame he did.
The young artist felt instinctively that this man — the
Duke — would not marry his little comrade.

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

A day of competition at the Conservatoire offers
the spectators a series of amusing studies, instructive,
puzzling and deceptive also at times. Ambition,
jealousy, vanity border on loyalty, sensibility, and
pride. Most of these young people are preparing
themselves to begin a sharp and bitter struggle for

THE IDOL OF PARIS 133

life itself. Others — and these are very few — are in
search of, if not fame, at least notoriety. They have
elected to enter upon this career, led by enthusiastic
hope, their love of the beautiful, and unconscious
consecration to art; nor will they cease throughout
their lives to spread their propaganda in behalf of all
there is that is good.

When Esperance appeared for the scene of
Fhedre, a fluttering murmur of approval greeted her,
while several little outbursts of applause were heard.
She was so pretty in her gown of white crepe de
chine ! Her youthfully cut bodice revealed the slen-
der flexibility of her neck; she might have been a
bust in rose wax modelled by Leonardo da Vinci.
She carried all before her by her interesting inter-
pretation of the role. The tragic grief of the daugh-
ter of ^^Minos*' and ^^Pasiphae^* was a revelation
for many there from one so young. Tears coursed
down Esperance's pretty cheeks. The abandon of
her graceful arms, her renouncement of a struggle
against the gods, her longing for death, her shame
after the tale of ^'Oenone** her radiant vision of
the son of ^^Theseus^ all was fully appreciated by
the public, and by a distinguished company of con-
noisseurs, often strongly critical, but never insensible
to real talent as it developed.

In the competition for comedy the young girl
achieved the same triumph. When the jury pro-
claimed her first in tragedy, all being unanimously
agreed on the verdict, a storm of applause and ad-

134 THE IDOL OF PARIS

miration greeted the announcement. Mile. Frahen-
der wept with pleasure, Genevieve Hardouin, enfold-
ing her little friend In her lovely bare arms, kissed
her on the hair. Esperance felt more touched by
the affectionate admiration of her comrades than she
had been even by the applause the day of the first
presentation of Victorien Sardou's play at the Vaude-
ville. In the afternoon she received the same kind
of ovation for her competition for the first prize in
comedy. When she came out of the Conservatoire
they would have unharnessed her carriage, but Mile.
Frahender and Jean Perllez absolutely opposed this
manifestation. Genevieve Hardouin had obtained a
second prize in tragedy and an honourable mention
in comedy. Jean, who had only entered the compe-
tition for tragedy, had a first, shared with two other
comrades. The three young people were radiant,
each neglecting his own fortune to magnify the tri-
umph of the others.

When Esperance returned to the Boulevard Ras-
pail, she found her parents much elated at her suc-
cess. Count Styvens, who had been present at the
competition, had hurried to tell them the good news
and give them all the details of their daughter's sig-
nificant triumph.

*'She surpassed herself in Fhedre^^ he had said.
*'She is, I think, the equal to some of the greatest
tragediennes," and when they told Esperance she
said, *'Is he still here?" looking towards the salon.

THE IDOL OF PARIS 135

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

'^You were divine in Phedre, delightfully feminine
in Barherine. No one is happier at your phenomenal
success than your always devoted^ Albert Styvens/*

Esperance felt a world of gratitude to the young
Count for not having waited to see her. She went
into her room to undress, and in doing so drew
gently from her belt the white orchid. She was about
to put it in one of the two vases on the mantel-piece,
when her hand paused of its own accord and re-
mained inert; her gaze had been caught by the Duke
de Morlay-La-Branche's gardenias in the other vase.
Radiant with freshness it caught the eye, it invited
her to come and smell. The girl bent towards its
whiteness. The intoxicating perfume held her. Her
head drooped nearer and nearer the delicate blos-
soms. Her lip touched the smooth flesh of the petal.
She trembled violently and threw her head back.
It seemed as if a kiss had been given her! She
quivered, closing her eyes, longing for the unpleasant
feeling to pass.

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

Then she sat down before the vases where the
two rival flowers displayed their charms. She was
bitterly conscious of being impelled by a new inner

136 THE IDOL OF PARIS

force, an almost evil force. And she looked from
the mantel to the ivory Virgin, whose open hands
seemed to be showering blessings.

Esperance looked back to the white orchid.

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

Almost terrified, she got up and walked about to
calm herself, to conquer the instinct which her reason
told her was wrong. Still under the strain of the
emotions of the triumphal day, and to escape the
disagreeable thought the sight of the radiant gar-
denias provoked in her, she began to write a long
letter to the Countess Styvens. That soothed her
nervousness a little. She poured out all her heart in
the letter, for she knew that this woman loved her
independently of the love of her son — loved her en-
tirely her own self.

Two days later Esperance received a letter from
the Director of the Comedie-Francaise, asking her to
call at four o'clock that same day at the theatre.
At the right hour she went with her mother and
Mile. Frahender. Without delay she was at once
engaged, for Madame Darbois had the spoken and
written authority of her husband to make what
arrangements her daughter should desire. The Di-
rector was most complimentary to the young actress
and asked what role she would care to choose for
her debut. Esperance proclaimed her preference
for ''Dona SoV* in Hernani or ''Camille'' in On me
badine pas avec V amour.

THE IDOL OF PARIS 137

Her heart was filled with emotion as she was leav-
ing the great house of which in future she would be a
part. The Place du Carrousel, the perspective of
the Tuileries, and the Champs Elysees seemed more
beautiful than ever before. The passers-by were
charming. Everything, everywhere, spoke only of
happiness and hope.

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

PART THREE

THE COUNTRY

CHAPTER XVI

After the recent excitement at the Conservatoire,
following the competition, Esperance was delighted
to act upon the Doctor's advice to leave Paris. Doc-
tor Potain had told the philosopher that it was ab-
solutely imperative that his daughter should have
two or three months of absolute quiet. He suggested
the mountains; but Esperance would have none of
them. She loved far horizons and vast plains, but
her real choice was the sea. So It was decided that
the family should go to their little farm at Belle-
Isle-en-Mer.

*'You must go immediately," the Doctor com-
manded, *'and to begin with you must have two
weeks' complete repose, in the sun, in a comfortable
reclining chair."

Esperance was beside herself with joy. To see the
pretty farm again nestling In Its circle of tall tama-
risks, to dream for hours by the seaside, to breathe
the breath of furze and seaweed! The windows of
her room overlooked the land on one side, and on
the other she had wild ocean, studded with black
rocks gleaming under the sea's caresses.

Maurice Renaud, Jean Perllez and Genevieve
Hardouin were Invited by the Darbols to spend their

141

142 THE IDOL OF PARIS

vacation at the farm of Penhouet. Their arrival at
the Gare d'Orsay was a complete surprise to Esper-
ance, who threw herself on her father's neck, sob-
bing with pleasure.

He chlded her gently, ^'Daughter, are you going
to break your word to the Doctor?'*

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

*'No, papa dear, only I have not yet begun to keep
It. The cure will only commence with my first day
In the long chair on the seashore. So you see I can
still cry a little In gratitude for all your thoughtful-
ness."

The trip was gay, thanks to Maurice's nonsense.
Modern painter, cosmopolitan, elegant, and culti-
vated gentleman, he could still become frolicsome
and gay with nonsense in happy company.

M. Darbois, ordinarily so quiet, laughed at his
antics till the tears came, while Mme. Darbois smiled
that pleasant smile that had first long ago appealed
to Francois's heart. As to Mile. Frahender, the
artist's wit fairly made her dizzy. As at Brussels,
she soon gave up trying to follow him, for at the mo-
ment when she thought she had caught the trend of
his humour he had already branched ofi into another
anecdote, this time serious, and her laugh would
come too late. So she tried to read the names of
the little stations flying past, but the speed of the
train was so great that, like Maurice's anecdotes,

THE IDOL OF PARIS 143

she only got as far as the first syllable. She closed
her eyes and slept.

They changed trains at Auray about six In the
morning. The young people took charge of the
luggage while Maurice went to make sure that the
portmanteau with his canvas and paints was securely
on the right train. With his mind at rest, he joined
them at the little buffet, where they were having
shrimps, pink as roses, fresh eggs, coffee and the lit-
tle cakes of the countryside.

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

When Esperance breathed the llfe-giving breath of
the sea, when she could distinguish the green line of
ocean back of the trees, she clapped her hands with
ecstasy. She became a guide for Genevieve, explain-
ing to her the conformation of Carnac, and recount-
ing with pretty fancy the legends of the country
they were passing through.

At last the train stopped at Quiberon. They
stopped at the Hotel de France to speak to the Pro-
prietress, Mme. Le Dantec, and get a picnic dinner
from her to take with them. The boat, the Soula-
croup, was filling the air with its second whistle,
so they had to hurry along. The tide was not yet
full, so they had to climb down the slimy quay, slip-
pery with trodden seaweed, shiny with fish scales.
The boat was taking on board a dozen red hogs that

144 THE IDOL OF PARIS

snorted mightily. Several women with well-laden
baskets settled themselves in the fore part of the
vessel, using the baskets as a barricade between them-
selves and the pigs. Our travellers settled them-
selves as well as possible, which was not well at all,
on the little bridge under an awning. However,
Esperance found it all delightful.

The trip was rather rough and uncomfortable, but
most of the company made the best of It. Mile.
Frahender grew pale and ill, and her hair flew about
in the most comic disarray. Cosily ensconced In a
corner, Maurice sketched the various attitudes his
companions assumed with every antic of the lightly-
laden, wave-tossed Soulacroup. Hunched up on
the seat, Esperance clung to the rigging. Genevieve
clutched at her when a wave pitched the boat too far
over. The others, well muffled up, waited In silence.
Jean Perllez sighted the shore continually with his
glasses, wishing It ever nearer so that his Impatient
idol might soon be safe on shore again.

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

Maurice was enthusiastic when he caught a good
view of the little port of Palais, filled with a hundred
little boats lined with blue nets. The tuna boats
carried from their ropes and around their sides long,

THE IDOL OF PARIS 145

stiff silver tunas, so bright in the sun's rays that they
hurt the eyes.

"Oh! do look/' cried Esperance.

A little boat had just approached, overladen with
sardines, and soon a silver shower was falling on the
hard stones of the quay. It was a beautiful sight,
and the excitement of the Parisians amused the jolly
fishermen mightily.

Francois Darbois led his party to the carriage that
was waiting, a brake with six seats, drawn by two
farm horses. The farmer on the box seat was beam-
ing with pride at the return of his patrons.

It is more than an hour's journey from Palais to
Penhouet, but the road seemed short, on account of
its variety of view. Leaving Palais, there was first
of all the ropemakers rolHng long strands of hemp
with their fingers almost bleeding over the task.
They had chosen a charming spot; shaded by a little
orchard they worked and sang, the ropemaker's
song, with a lingering, dragging melody. And then,
after passing a little wood, the island itself came into
view. It was covered with gorse, like a series of
Oriental carpets dotted with the gold of the broom
in bloom, woven with rose heather, and red heather,
and purple heather. The bright green foliage of the
wild roses "appeared" like arabesques. The sky,
hanging low, bluish green, without a cloud, seemed as
a silken film stretched to filter the heat of the sun.
At a turn in the road the plain disappeared to give
place to little hills, which rise from every side to de-

146 THE IDOL OF PARIS

fend from wind and rain the beautiful golden wheat,
with its heads drooping under the weight of the
heavy grain.

*'Ah!" cried Esperance joyfully, standing up in
the carriage, I can see there is the farm just ahead."

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

And the two young girls, clinging to each other,
saw the little red-roofed farm house enlarge, as they
grew nearer. At last the carriage stopped, and the
farmer's wife came forward to meet them with her
three children. At twenty-six she looked forty, like
most peasant women exhausted by work and child-
bearing. Madame Darbois caressed the children,
who had just been having their ears washed and their
hair combed vigorously to prepare them for the
advent of their master's family.

The farm house was long, and close to the earth,
being only one story high. The front door gave
directly on the same level into the dining-room, a
large room which also served as the salon or parlour,
with a bright kitchen to one side, where shining casse-
roles spoke of the order of the proprietors; to the
left, was a large bedroom, sacred to the Darbois's.
Close to the kitchen was a very comfortable room
for Marguerite and the other maid. A wooden stair-
case led to six rooms above, which were very airy,
and all hung with bright chintzes. Mile. Frahender
was installed next to Esperance, with Genevieve on
the other side. The two young men were sent to

THE IDOL OF PARIS 147

what was known as the "Five Divisions of the
World," being composed of five cabins, Europe,
Asia, Africa, America and Oceania. These five
rooms, always reserved for guests, were built of
pitchpine, and their windows gave directly on the sea.

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

After a frugal dinner the young people climbed
the cliffs as far as Penhouet. The bay was sur-
rounded on all sides by high rocks, behind which
were hidden smaller rocks, covered with mosses,
and mussels; and on the right the clifi hollowed out
into a dark cave facing the land. This little beach,
cheerful by day, grew mysterious with the fall of
night. Esperance could point out Quiberon, out-
lined across the way between land and sky like a rib-
bon of light. The little lighthouse, high on the
plateau above the farm, sent out Its long lunar arms
regularly to sweep the country and search the sea.

CHAPTER XVII

EsPERANCE kept her word to Doctor Potain, and
spent fifteen days stretched out in a cosy lounge chair.
The particular part of the beach had been chosen by
Maurice, for it was during this time of forced repose
that he intended to do his cousin's portrait for the
next Salon. In a little hollow of the hill, he settled
the chair. A great tamarisk with feathery foliage
of bright green formed a background. To the right
was the sea, to the left a glowering mass of dark
rocks. Jean and Genevieve took turns in reading
aloud, and the picture was said to be progressing
famously. During the first two weeks Esperance
spent about five hours every day in the chair, but
from the sixteenth day she only devoted one hour
for posing, after lunch, and then she began to or-
ganize excursions to explore the country round about.
One morning as the four young people were re-
turning from a bicycle ride, they saw ahead of them
the little brake on its return journey from Palais to
the farm which Mme. Darbois had used on a shop-
ping expedition with Marguerite. In the brake were
two other persons — two men. The excursionists
were still too far from the carriage to recognize the
strangers. But Esperance, who was watching,
stopped suddenly. Genevieve, who was behind her,

almost rode into her, and had to jump lightly from

148

THE IDOL OF PARIS 149

her wheel. Maurice and Jean were some distance
behind. She called to them. They were much con-
cerned to find Esperance, with a pale face, clenching
her hands on the handle-bar.

"What Is It, cousin, what alls you?"

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

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

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

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

"Yes, perhaps so," she went on, shaking her head
as If to rid It of some vague thoughts that were dis-
turbing her brain, "perhaps so. But let us be quick,
for one of the gentlemen was Doctor Potain."

"Were there two men?" asked Jean.

"Yes, two."

And she started off again at a great pace.

Jean was dolefully perplexed.

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

"Esperance, my dear," he said, "Doctor Potain Is
here with the Duke de Morlay-La-Branche. Your
mother met them at the Palais, just as they had
landed from the boat and were looking for a
carnage."

150 THE IDOL OF PARIS

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

Jean Perliez understood the emotion of his dear
little comrade. She seemed to him at once terrified
and fascinated. Maurice was presented to the Duke,
who immediately began to make himself agreeable.
He was quite anxious he said to see the portrait of
which M. Darbois had spoken, so Maurice led him
up the hillside. The portrait was on an easel, and
from a distance the Duke almost thought that he
was seeing the real Esperance, the little girl who was
troubling his life. He was delighted with the fresh-
ness of the colouring, and the perfection of the like-
ness, so necessary when the model is so beautiful.

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

Jean waited at the foot of the staircase leading to
the girl's rooms, and watched them descend. Es-
perance was looking radiant. She had dressed her-
self with particular care. He understood the
tremors of her heart and decided to keep watch in
case she should need him.

When the girls came into the hall, the Duke was
talking to Maurice, and the Doctor to Frangois Dar-
bois. The gentlemen had not heard the door open,
but intuitively the Duke turned around.

Esperance met his burning eyes which were veiled
by an expression that suggested repentant submis-

THE IDOL OF PARIS 151

sion. She inclined her head slowly and went straight
up to Doctor Potain, thanking him for coming, and
apologizing for having kept him waiting. Potain
led her into her parents' room. He was much dis-
turbed by the uneven beating of her heart, stormier
than he had ever heard it.

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

The Doctor looked closely at the young girl. Her
eyes shone with abnormal brightness. He sounded
her, but found nothing wrong except the irregularity
of her heart. He sent Esperance back to the salon
so that he could talk with her father alone. The
Duke hastened to apologize for having come thus
without notice. He was staying at the Chateau of
Castel-Montjoie with Doctor Potain, and when he
heard that the Doctor was leaving for Belle-Isle, he
could not resist the opportunity to come and ask
pardon. He talked a long time, with ardent, almost
brotherly tenderness; asked when Esperance thought
of making her appearance at the Comedie-Francaise,
urging her to play ^^Camille/^ and spoke with con-
siderable praise of Musset's heroine.

"The character of the young girl seems to have been
caught alive. I criticize her only for her hardness.'*

"But," Esperance replied quickly, "that hardness
is simply a light veneer, the result of her education.
^Camille/ who knew nothing of life except through
the disillusioned account of her friend in the Con-

152 THE IDOL OF PARIS

vent, would soon become human if 'Perdican* had a
less complicated psychology."

She stopped, and was silent a minute.

The Duke looked at her.

*'A11 the world has not the candour of a Count
Styvens," he said.

This unfortunate sentence exactly answered a fleet-
ing thought that was passing in Esperance's brain.

"So much the worse for *all the world,' " she said
quietly and left him.

Her father and Doctor Potain came in at this
moment.

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

Francois caressed her velvet cheek. *'You shall
soon know."

The Duke had remained dumbfounded in his
chair. The sudden mastery of this child, who had
for the second time rebuked him, touched his pride.
His instinct as an irresistible charmer told him she
was not indifferent to him. Still he could not define
in what way he appealed to her. Was it physical?
Was it of a higher order? After a little cogitation,
he concluded that that was the secret. However,
he was wrong. Esperance was subjugated by the
attraction of his masculinity and strength, which
was subtly energetic and audacious. His taste and
independence appealed to her artistic nature. His
vibrant voice, the grace of his slender hands, the
lightness of his spirits always alert, his superiority

THE IDOL OF PARIS 153

at every sport, made the Duke de Morlay-La-
Eranche quite like a real hero of romance. He had
expected to subjugate the little Parisian idol, and
found himself thwarted by her. This rather an-
noyed him, and he vowed to conquer her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Duke laughed gaily, and prepared a scath-
ing witticism with which to wither the young girl.
But he did not have the pleasure of delivering it
to Esperance, who had hidden herself behind her
portrait at the foot of the rock.

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

"You know very well, papa dear, that I am very

154 THE IDOL OF PARIS

grateful to Doctor Potain, and I should not have
gone away if he had been alone."

M. and Mme. Darbols looked at each other and
at Esperance.

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

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

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

"Can you not be more definite?" asked Francois
Darbois a little nervously.

Jean intervened, "May I say something?"

"Certainly, my boy."

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

Francois turned towards Esperance.

"That is so," she said, kissing her father, "so tell
me that you are not angry with your little daughter."

For answer he kissed her tenderly.

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

"Do not reproach yourself, dear father, you have
been so good, so trusting. I will never betray that
confidence, and my godfather will be obliged to con-
sume all his own horrid prophecies."

CHAPTER XVIII

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

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

But Esperance clasped her hands with delight.

The first riding lessons were a source of new joy
for Esperance. Maurice was an excellent rider, and
his passion for horses had made him expert in
handling them. He had chosen a horse for his cousin
from a stable in the Cotes-du-Nord, the private sta-
ble of the Count Marcus de Treilles, the horse had
been secured at a bargain on account of some blem-
ishes of his coat. He was very gentle, however, and
the Darbois soon felt confidence in him. Doctor
Potain had recommended a great deal of physical
exercise for the patient, to counteract the excess of
mental work which had weakened her heart.

"Riding, fishing, walking, tennis," the great spe-
cialist had said to Frangois Darbois, "will be the

155

156 THE IDOL OF PARIS

best thing for your daughter, and," pressing his
hand, "let her get married as soon as possible."

Long excursions about the little island became for
Esperance the most delightful part of their country
life. Very often M. and Madame Darbois, Mile.
Frahender and Genevieve Hardouin would follow
in the brake. They carried their lunch with them
and ate it sometimes in the little wood of Loret,
sometimes on the cliffs amidst the broom, furze
and asters with their golden flowers and silver
foliage.

The philosopher's fishing fleet was composed, as
he laughingly said, of a blue boat with blue sails, and
a little Swedish whaler. Francois went every even-
ing about six o'clock to set the nets with the farmer's
eldest son, whose portrait Maurice intended doing
for the following Salon. All the little colony gath-
ered at nine in the morning on the beach, ready with
baskets to bear away the catch.

Maurice, Jean and Esperance went out with the
Professor to get the nets. Sometimes they had been
put far out and then Esperance would row with the
others, for which rough sport her delicate arms
seemed out of place. The young people would cry
out with delight every time they saw the fish under
the transparent water held by the meshes. Some-
times they had quite a big draught; two or three rays,
several magnificent soles, with mullets, and flounders.
Sometimes a great lobster would give the net such
tweaks that they guessed his presence before they

THE IDOL OF PARIS 157

saw him. And sometimes it happened that the catch
was nothing but a few sea crabs, who would half
devour the other unfortunate fish imprisoned with
them. Another day a great octopus appeared, and
Esperance grew pale with fright at sight of his long
clinging tentacles.

Esperance often made a selection of the seaweeds
in the net, and she and Genevieve commenced an al-
bum in which they pasted, in fanciful designs, these
plants, i\ne as straws or solid and sharp of colour.
This album was intended for Mme. Styvens, and the
girls worked at it lovingly. Maurice would some-
times assist them with his advice or make them a
sketch which they could copy as carefully as their
beautiful materials would admit. Mile. Frahender
used much infinite patience to gluing the tiniest fibres
of the sea plants. Some were bright pink, suggesting
in formation and colour the little red fishing boats.
Others were gold and their slender little flowers
rising in clusters. The long supple green algaes,
swelling along their stems Into little round beads,
like beads of jade, looked as though they were some
Chinese costume. As the album grew It gave promise
of wonderful surprises.

On the first of September Francois Darbois re-
ceived a letter from Count Styvens, asking permission
to come and submit to him a philosophical work that
he had just finished. He begged to present his com-
pliments to Mme. and Mile. Darbois. The profes-
sor read the letter aloud after dinner.

158 THE IDOL OF PARIS

"I hardly think," he queried, "that I can well
refuse this pleasure to my favourite pupil."

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

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

A dispatch was sent to Albert Styvens, telling him
they would all be delighted to see him. Only Es-
perance showed some reserve, and Maurice cried
out, "My cousin is in dread of musical evenings, I
see!"

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

"Yes, papa, but no music after dinner: our even-
ings would be lost ! It is so pleasant to go for long
walks on these wonderful moonlight nights ! The
piano is for the town, here we only want to enjoy the
harmonious music of nature, the sea that croons or
roars, the wind that whistles, whistles or scolds, the
plaint of the sea-gulls in the storm, the cry of the
frightened gulls and cormorants, the clicking of the
pebbles rolled over by the waves ; all these charm me
strangely and I often sleep on the little beach,
soothed by these melodies which you will find
echoed in the themes of our great masters."

The philosopher drew his daughter on his knee.

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

THE IDOL OF PARIS 159

The word had shpped out but it stung the young
girl; but she would not let her resentment appear.

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

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

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

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

"See," said Esperance, "that is the image of my
life. At this moment I am calm, happy, and my art
is like that bright star. It brightens everything for
me without troubling me. ... I do not love Count
Styvens. Oh!" she went on in answer to a move-
ment from Genevieve, "I like him as a friend, but I
do not love him. I know he is a gallant gentleman, a
fine musician, and a splendid athlete ; I recognize that
he is very generous and that he is entirely unselfish —
for these I greatly respect him, but these qualities
alone have nothing to do with love."

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

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

"But handsome men are very rare !"

i6o THE IDOL OF PARIS

Esperance did not answer.

*'There Is the Duke de Morlay-La-Branche, too.
Do you like him any better?"

The moon shone full on Esperance's face.

*'Great Heavens, dearie," exclaimed Genevieve
quickly, "you are not In love with that man, I hope.'*

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

Genevieve took her friend In her arms.

"Esperance, darling, save yourself! Think of the
downfall of your mother's happiness, think of the
fearful remorse of your father. Think of your god-
father's Iniquitous triumph. Ah! I beg of you, ac-
cept the Count's love, become his wife, you will be
constrained by your loyalty to save your father's
honour. But the Duke . . ."

"My father's honour Is precious to me, and you
see, I am defending it badly," said Esperance. She
wept quietly. Genevieve drew her head down on
her shoulder. Esperance kissed her.

THE IDOL OF PARIS i6i

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

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

There were just three days before his coming.
Esperance had made up her mind, after her talk with
Genevieve, to accede to her parents' wishes. She
and Genevieve went to inspect the room that had
been prepared for the Count. It was a little square
apartment very nicely arranged. On the floor was
a mat with red and white squares. The windows
looked out on the rocky coast. The young people
decided to hang some small variegated laurels from
the ceiling to decorate it. On the mantel they put
some flower vases on either side of a plaque repre-
senting the golden wedding of a Breton couple.
Mme. Darbois opened for them what Esperance
called her "reliquary," and they found there flowers
and ribbons. They chose wistaria, and lavender and
white ribbons, then went to work on their wreath.
A large crown of pretty bunches was hung from satin
ribbons. When it was ready the four young people
went with ladder and tools to hang the wreaths,
Maurice standing high up on the ladder drove In the
peg intended to hold the crown.

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

Esperance blushed and sighed sadly.

The room was charming in its decoration, though

1 62 THE IDOL OF PARIS

when It was finished it seemed more fit for a young
girl than for a big, broad-shouldered man.

M. and Mme. Darbois went to meet Count Sty-
vens at Palais. Francois had taken his glasses and
pointed out the boat to his wife.

"There is the Count," said Mme. Darbois. *'I
recognize his tall figure."

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

Francois and Germaine came up to the young man,
who pressed the philosopher's hand and presented
his respects to Mme. Darbois : and seeing them look
with some curiosity at the old woman, he said, "Here,
Madame, are some good people deserving of your
kindness. Mme. Borderie is this little chap's grand-
mother. Her widowed son died five months ago of
tuberculosis, and as the child was coughing she gave
everything she had to take him to a specialist in
Nantes. The rough sea to-day made the poor little
fellow ill, bringing on a horrible coughing attack.
The poor woman was too weak to hold him during
his convulsions, and he rolled away from her, and she
was so frightened when he did not move, that she
was going to throw herself overboard. I rushed
with the other passengers to stop her, we calmed her
finally, and after some little time I was able to resus-
citate the child, who had gone off in a fit.'*

THE IDOL OF PARIS 163

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

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

"Where do you live?" enquired Germaine.

"At Pont-Herlln."

"That is some distance away?"

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

"I must go there."

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

Without further parley, Albert picked the old
woman up lightly and set her down In the brake.
The baby was deposited on her knees where he
promptly fell asleep. The Count's little trunk found
place beside the farmer on the front seat. A basket
of osier, which the young man had handled very
carefully, was also placed in the brake, and then they
set off for Pont-Herlln.

They were growing anxious at the farm of Pen-
houet, at the non-appearance of M. and Mme. Dar-
bols. Pont-Herlln lies some way from the Point des
Poulains and the roads are not in very good condi-
tion, especially for a two-horse brake. But soon
the wind brought the sound of horse's hoofs and
shortly after the brake drew up before the farm.
Albert went white at sight of Esperance. She had
come forward first, fearful on account of the delay.
Mme. Darbois explained the cause, and spoke of

i64 THE IDOL OF PARIS

the Count's great kindness to the old woman and
her boy.

Esperance raised her pretty eyes, damp with emo-
tion; she looked at Albert, wishing she could admire
his person as much as she did his mind. And, some-
how, as she looked she was agreeably surprised.

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

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

The young people were anxious to lead Styvens to
his room. Francois, however, was not allowed to
accompany them. They marched two ahead, two
behind, with the Count between, like a prisoner.
Never before had Albert seen Esperance so naturally
gay, never had he found her more fascinating. He
was almost delirious with happiness. Life seemed to
him only possible with this lovely creature for his
wife ! His wife ! Such an accession of blood gushed
into his heart at the thought that he stopped giddily.
Jean and Genevieve, who closed the order of march,
bumped against him, for he stopped so suddenly that
they thought something must be wrong.

"Good Heavens! are you 111?" asked Genevieve.

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

As they went on again Maurice whispered to his
cousin, "You know, Esperance, you have it In your
power to make that man happy for ever. I can see
it. Why it seems to be almost a duty. It will be

THE IDOL OF PARIS 165

like offending Providence to refuse the wonderful
future that lies open before you."

Esperance was very thoughtful, but her gay spirits
returned when they arrived at the "Five Divisions
of the World." The little cortege climbed the nar-
row staircase, crossed the little ante-chamber which
opened on the opposite side on a court cut out of
the rock. Each room had a door on this natural
court. Stopping before the last door, on which was
written "Oceania," the young people bowed before
the Count.

"Behold the prison of your Highness!"

When he was left alone the Count examined his
surroundings. His simple chamber seemed to him
sumptuous. He smelt the flowers on the mantel-
piece, half suspecting that they were an attention of
the young girls. The wreath suspended from the
ceiling made him smile. It had been hung there in
his honour, there could be no doubt about that.
There was a knock on the door. Marguerite en-
tered, followed by the farmer bringing the trunk and
the osier basket.

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

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

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

At half-past one the Count appeared walking up

1 66 THE IDOL OF PARIS

and down before the door of the dining-room. He
did not want to be the first one to enter. Maurice
joined him.

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

*'I will show it to you after lunch."

*'Is It finished?"

*'Yes; but I still have some retouching to do to the
background, and I shall be glad to have your advice
upon it. It Is not perhaps exactly necessary, yet
every time that I look at It, I feel the need of some
slight change."

Genevieve and Esperance came In together. The
contrast of this double entry was striking. Gene-
vieve, dark, with regular features, framed by a mass
of heavy black hair; Esperance, shell pink, aureoled
by her wavy blonde hair. Genevieve was so beauti-
ful that Maurice was moved. Esperance was so
dazzling that the Count mentally praised God at the
sight of her. He was warmly thanked for his pretty
flowers, several blossoms of which each girl had
pinned to her dress.

When the fish appeared, Maurice rose gravely.

*'ThIs magnificent fish, sir," he said to Albert
Styvens, "was caught by me for you; It Is for you to
decide whether to share It with us or whether you
prefer to eat It alone."

The young attache arose and with more humour '
than they expected from him, took the platter and
bowed with It towards Mme. Darbols. The conver-

THE IDOL OF PARIS 167

sation raced merrily along, and they were soon dis-
puting about sports. The Count learned that Es-
perance rode on horseback. He was delighted, and
inquired if he would be able to procure a mount.
Jean offered his, but the Count, who knew of his
love for Esperance and divined what a joy these
excursions must be to him, refused this sacrifice.
The farmer's wife, who helped to wait at table and
was ignorant of social customs, forthwith entered the
conversation.

*'Ah ! if Madame will permit me, I can bring
you to the Commandant, who has a fine horse to
sell.'^

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

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

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

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

After lunch the Count joined the four young peo-
ple in a ramble along the cliffs. Esperance and
Genevieve went arm in arm, the three young men
followed; with Styvens in a dream of delight, happier
than he had ever been in his life. Maurice was
watching Genevieve every day seeing her more beau-
tiful, and abandoning himself without much effort to
this new passion. Jean Perliez contemplated Esper-

1 68 THE IDOL OF PARIS

ance and smiled sadly, if gladly too, at the thought
that she was going to be delivered from the danger-
ous Duke de Morlay-La-Branche. They sat down
on a high rock overlooking the little beach of Pen-
houet and remained silent for a while.

*'How very beautiful it is," murmured Albert
at last. "You love the sea, do you not. Mile. Esper-
ance?"

*'More than anything else In nature. I love great
plains, too, but I like them best because they are
like the sea when they billow under the breeze."

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

"Oh! no, I stifle there. I dream at night that
they are pressing In to strangle me. I went to Cau-
terets with mama after she had bronchitis. I spent
all my time climbing to get a view of a horizon
and breathe better. As soon as mama was well the
Doctor sent us away saying that it was not good for

me."

"And the forest?" asked Albert.

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

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

"A lake makes me shiver. I feel constrained be-
fore a lake as before a person whom I know to be
false and perfidious. Of course, the sea is danger-
ous, but no one is ignorant of its caprices, its vio-
lence, its tragic love bouts with the wind. The sea
is open, whether in laughter or fury. See, look off

THE IDOL OF PARIS 169

there," she said, standing upon the rock. "This
evening it is calm as a lake, and still the waves are
all rippling, preparing for an assault on this rock !
It is so immensely alive, even in its great reserve!"

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

"One of the aboriginals might have succeeded.
He would not have been guided by any of the con-
ventions that are introduced in all the arts and bar
the way to the realism of the ideal, which is dear
to all true artists."

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

"Oh!" replied Genevieve, with much conviction,
"there is always an amateur of the beautiful, there is
always a critic who describes his emotion sincerely,
it is for them that I give my tears when I am on the
stage."

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

"My little cousin speaks truth," concluded
Maurice.

Genevieve stretched out her hand with a smile to
thank him. The young man kept the contact of

170 THE IDOL OF PARIS

that charming strong hand and kissed It with more
warmth than convention required.

^'Monsieur Maurice,'* murmured the girl with
trembling lips. But she could not voice a reproach.
She got up to hide her blushes.

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

Count Styvens stood up to his full height and
stretched his hands to his little Idol to help her up,
but she had withdrawn before the two arms stretched
towards her, and recoiled In a kind of fright.

"Did I startle you?"

*'0h! no," she said nervously, "But I was
dreaming, I was far away . . ."

"Where were you, cousin?"

"I don't know. Thoughts are sometimes so scat-
tered that It is hardly possible to give a clear
impression.'*

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

But love made every one of these young creatures
somewhat unsettled, and It was long before either of
them slept. Esperance and Genevieve talked low,
and long silences broke their confidences. Count
Styvens had brought cigarettes for Maurice and
Jean. All three stayed and talked a long time in
the painter's room. Alone with men, Styvens lost
all the timidity that sometimes made him awkward.

THE IDOL OF PARIS 171

His broad and cultivated mind, his humanitarian
philosophy unaffected by his religious beliefs, the
sincere simplicity with which he expressed himself,
made a great impression on Jean and Maurice.

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

*Terhaps he may yet be both," murmured Jean.

CHAPTER XIX

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

*'What marvellous delicacy! Oh! the blue of the
eyes! The mother of pearl of the temples!"

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

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

Maurice nodded.

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

"Why?"

^'Because I know that she does not love me . . .
Oh! I believe," he went on sadly, "I hope, at least
that she does feel some friendship for me — ^but if
she declines my proposal . . . what else would ever
matter to me?"

Maurice came and sat down beside him.

"Your mother?" he queried.

"My mother loves Esperance devotedly, and she

has a very real admiration for your uncle as well.

She is very religious. M. Darbois's philosophical

books, which deny nothingness and proclaim the

172

THE IDOL OF PARIS 173

ideal, have been a great comfort to her in her volun-
tary solitude. She would be very happy to know if
I could be happy.''

*'But," objected Maurice, *'I am afraid that my
cousin does not wish to give up her art — the stage.'*

*'Yes, I am aware of that, but my mother and I
have not the stupid prejudices of the multitude.
Undoubtedly, this union, under such conditions,
would estrange us from many of our so-called friends,
and I should have to give up the diplomatic service,
but that would not trouble me. No," he went on,
resting his hand on Maurice's knee, *'the hard part
would be to see her every evening surrounded by
the admiration of so many men. I suffered when she
was playing at the Vaudeville, and then she was
scarcely more than a child, but I heard them all
commenting on her beauty and it was all I could do
to control myself. What shall I be if she becomes
my wife? Ah! my wife! my wife! I really be-
lieve, M. Renaud, that her refusal would drive me
mad; so, I hesitate. Hope is the refuge^ of the sick;
and I am very sick — sick at heart."

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

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

174 THE IDOL OF PARIS

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

The girls came up with Jean Perliez. The Count
said, *'Your portrait Is a perfect likeness and is, more-
over, a beautiful picture. But," he exclaimed, "you
are all ready for riding!"

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

"Your Invitation Is very tempting, and I am going
to surprise you perhaps by declining. The farmer
arranged to have the Commandant's horse here for
this morning, but he comes accompanied by many
warnings and I want to try him out when you are not
here. If M. Perliez will be my guide to Pont-Herlin
to-day I shall be glad. To-morrow I hope you will
offer me the same chance again . . .?"

Esperance smiled delightfully.

"Suppose we have lunch there," said Maurice.

"Papa would be left alone too long, and I want to
see If M. Styvens can fish as well as ride. We will
come back to pull up the nets about five o'clock, and
then we will have tea In the boat."

The carriage was ready, the horses saddled. The
Count had the pleasure of assisting the young actress
to mount, and then Esperance and Maurice set out
together, followed by the brake. The Count and

THE IDOL OF PARIS 175

Jean Perllez took a more roundabout and a steeper
way. Albert wanted to study the character of his
horse. The first to arrive at Pont-Herlin were to
await the others, and together they were to go to
visit old Mother Borderie.

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

The old woman was sitting beside the hearth, by
the side of which was an armful of furze. The even-
ing meal was slowly cooking in a marmite turning
from a hook. Between her knees she held the child,
combing his hair. She stopped when she saw the
visitors enter, and the child ran towards the Count,
who took him in his arms.

The presents they had brought were unwrapped
by the girls. Blouses, trousers, clothes for the baby,
a woollen dress, a muslin dress, with two beautiful
fichus in true Breton style for the grandmother.
One box contained sugar, coffee, and six jars of pre-
serves ; another, smoked bacon, salt pork, two bottles

176 THE IDOL OF PARIS

of candy and prunes, and six bottles of red wine.
The old woman looked, caressingly felt everything
with her old knotted fingers, while the tears ran down
the furrows that sorrow had hollowed in each cheek.

"Ah! if my son had had such good things, per-
haps he would not have died!"

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

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

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

"Yes, the cistern is empty, on account of the
drought we have had these two months, and the
spring is a mile away. It is too far for me, and
especially for the child who is not strong. I don't
dare leave him alone in the house here ; and I don't
dare leave him with the neighbours. They are too
rough and they knock the little fellow about and
he doesn't understand it h only done in joke, and

THE IDOL OF PARIS 177

he cries and calls for me and gets such a fever that
he almost died one day when I left him to go do
washing still further away.'*

*'But couldn't you get the neighbours to bring you
some water?" asked Esperance.

*'My young lady, there are thirteen in that family,
and one of them Is 111 to death!" she added, sighing.

Albert joined In, "Where is the spring?"

*'Over there, near the church In the next village."

**Very good, we three will go there," he said, call-
ing Maurice and Jean, "and we will bring you back
lots of water."

"Walt till I give you . . ." she opened the cup-
board. "Here is the pail. Take care, it is very
heavy."

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

Esperance watched him as he went out and for an
instant she loved him.

While waiting for the young men to return she
settled her mother on a chest. The only chair In the
house was a straw arm-chair with a high back, on
which the old Borderle was sitting and which she had
not thought of offering.

"No doubt," said Mme. Darbols in a low tone,
"little by little she has had to sell everything she
had."

The girls opened a bottle of wine, the jar of prunes
and the jar of candy, and arranged them on the

178 THE IDOL OF PARIS

board pointed out by the poor woman, who thanked
them simply and said, '^Ah! my little lad, how good
it will be for him!"

*'And for you, too, you know. Now drink some
wine and take some coffee," said Esperance, caress-
ing the grandmother's hands.

*'I haven't got enough wood to boil the water."

Madame Darbois looked at the girls contritely.
"Wood," she said. **And we never thought of it."

"If you aren't poor, you don't have to think,"
muttered the old woman.

A contraction of the heart, the sting of remorse,
pierced Mme. Darbois and the two girls.

"To-morrow you shall have plenty of wood, Mme.
Borderie."

"That will be very good, kind lady, for then we
can have a little heat, and that is what the little one
needs. The sun never comes into my room, ah! it
can't, the hole is not big enough. And then in the
evening when the fog begins, my little boy, he coughs
so, and that makes me shiver; then I take him in my
bed, but my blood is not warm enough so he can't
get warm. Ah! but that will be good for him, to
have wood! Thank you."

For the first time her face broke into a smile, for
she had almost forgotten how to smile. Her life
had been nearly all tears. Suddenly she raised her
head in fright — "What may that noise be?"

At the door a cart stopped. On the cart a big
barrel.

THE IDOL OF PARIS 179

*'Here Is some water, Mme. Borderie, that we are
going to pour Into your cistern."

With the help of the carter and Maurice, Albert
got to work and behold ! the cistern half full. Albert
tried the pump.

"Don't waste any, In Heaven's name," cried the
old woman.

"No, no, never mind. Anyway there Is another
barrel on Its way."

In fact another cart was stopping before the door.
This barrel being smaller, Albert, Impatient at the
peasant's slowness, picked It up himself and rolling It
along, emptied It like the first In the cistern.

"Look there, will you. Mother," cried out the
second carter, "that Isn't any cheap water. The
fine gentleman has given a hundred francs to the
town so you could have that water there."

The Count coloured to the roots of his hair. He
thought that Esperance had not heard, but he met
her contrite glance, full of gratitude. With Gene-
vieve's help she washed the little fellow, who was
very docile, sniffing with pleasure the "good smell"
of these ladies. Bathed, combed. In his new clothes,
he was a darling.

"I don't know you any longer, little boy. Who are
you?" chuckled the old woman. And she kissed the
child, saying, "On Sunday, we will go to Mass, you
will be as fine as the other little boys."

She saw all her visitors to the door, and when Es-
perance jumped on her horse, "You aren't afraid up

i8o THE IDOL OF PARIS

there? You know horses aren't exactly treacherous,
but they are uncertain, and then these dreadful flies
make them wild. Au revoir, Madame; my good
gentlemen, thank you. Good luck, Mam'selle."

The four riders returned together. Passing the
little village of Debers, they had to stop; a big hay
wagon barred the way. The peasant who was driv-
ing was abominably drunk. He swore and struck his
horses and jerked them violently towards the ditch.
Maurice ordered him to make way. He laughed
foolishly and swore at them Insultingly. Maurice
and the Count started forward, and the peasant men-
aced them with the scythe resting on the seat beside
him. In a flash Albert leapt from his horse, threw
the reins to Maurice, and went straight to the drunk-
ard. The fellow tried to brandish his scythe, but
already Albert had wrenched It from him and threw
it aside. Then seizing the man, he pulled him down
on his knees and held him there until he begged
for pardon. The rustic, suddenly sobered, and
raging with impatience, paid In full the apologies
exacted by the Count, before he was allowed to
get up.

Jean, during this contest, had led the horses out of
their way. The driver, pale with fury, swung his
whip at large and it struck Esperance's horse. The
poor beast, mad with fright, took the bit between
his teeth and started out on a dizzy run. Albert
saw at a glance the only possible way to stop his
course.

THE IDOL OF PARIS i8i

"Go to the left and cut across the road," he cried,
"I'll take the right."

And he put his horse across the fields.

Esperance's horse did not follow the bend of the
road as Styvens had expected. Blinded by fright,
it made straight ahead towards the cliffs.

Once on the rocks, there was the precipice and sure
death.

The Count's horse leapt as if it understood what
it had to do.

The Count came up just as Esperance lost her
seat and fell with one foot caught In the stirrup.
Her lovely blonde hair swept the earth. Twenty
yards more and that exquisite little head would be
crashed upon the rocks.

With a desperate effort, Albert by spurring his
horse furiously was able to reach her horse's head,
seize him by the bridle and swing himself to the
ground.

Braced against the rocks, he succeeded in halting
the trembling beast, and bent in anguish over the
fainting girl. But just as he freed Esperance's feet,
the horse, still trampling and plunging, kicked him
full In the head. He went down like a stone.

Maurice and Jean had now come up. One calmed
the horse, the other went to the aid of the wounded
man. Albert, his face streaming with blood, was
murmuring feebly, "No, she is not dead; no, she is
not dead. . . ."

He fell back unconscious.

1 82 THE IDOL OF PARIS

Jean was kneeling beside Esperance. He raised
his eyes to Maurice, moist with tears, but bright with
hope.

''She Is alive," he said, "she has just moaned
feebly. It is only a Httle way to the farm. Hurry,
Maurice, go for help. God grant the Count's wound
may not be fatal. . . ."

The peasant's who were haymaking nearby had
left their work and come upon the scene. One man
offered his cart and Albert was lifted, unconscious
and blood-stained, and laid on the hay.

Esperance had come to her senses. She could see,
but could not understand. A peasant woman, kneel-
ing beside her, washed her face in water from a pool
in the rocks.

Suddenly she recollected her comrade.

*'Jean," she cried with fright, "Jean, Count
Styvens?"

Jean sorrowfully showed her the wagon where he
lay. Esperance, leaning on the young actor, stood
up to be able to see, and a great sob shook her from
head to feet.

"My God! my God!" she moaned, "Is he killed?"

"No, I don't think so, not yet at least. . . ."

"And his mother, his poor mother . . . But what
happened? I don't remember. ... It Is terri-
ble. . . ."

Jean described what had happened, and how the
Count had snatched her from certain death.

Esperance began to cry bitterly.

THE IDOL OF PARIS 183

Meantime Maurice was returning with the vic-
toria in which were M. and Madame Darbols. The
wagon was sent on its way very slowly. Frangois
stepped down quickly and took his daughter in his
arms, intending to carry her to the carriage.

*'My father, I am able to walk . . ." she stifled
with sobs. "But he . . ."

The philosopher put her in the victoria beside her
mother, and begged Jean to stay with them. Then
he rejoined the cart, and climbed up beside Maurice
who was supporting the limp head on the hay.

The professor had studied a little medicine. He
could see that the wound was grave, but the young
man was robust and he allowed himself to hope.

Maurice recounted the accident with all its details.

*'Brave fellow," said Frangois, taking the cold
hand. And tears, he could scarcely restrain, began
to fill his eyes.

Soon they all arrived at the farm. Marguerite, as
she had been instructed, had prepared the Darbois's
room to receive the wounded man. Esperance, ex-
hausted, was put to bed, and was soon asleep,
watched over by Mile. Frahender, who prayed si-
lently, counting over her rosary.

They had difficulty in moving Albert Styvens.
His great body was heavy and difficult to raise.
Finally, after they had washed and bound up his
head, they succeeded In undressing him and making
him as comfortable as possible In the great bed.

A quarter of an hour later he opened his eyes,

1 84 THE IDOL OF PARIS

and, In response to the anxious faces leaning over
him, smiled sweetly.

**And SHE?'^ he asked in a feeble voice.

^'Thanks to your courage, she is all right," said
Mme. Darbois. *'You have the blessings of a grate-
ful mother."

She put the young man's hand to her lips. Two
warm tears fell down on it. The young man trem-
bled, then his face grew radiant. They followed his
glance. On the threshold stood Esperance, leaning
upon Genevieve. A half-hour of profound sleep had
completely restored her. She had waked suddenly,
and seeing Genevieve and Mile. Frahender beside
her, had asked, "How is Count Albert?"

And in spite of the protests of both women, she
had got up. She wanted to be sure, she wanted to
see!

The wounded man looked at her fixedly.

"Tell me that I am not dreaming," he implored.

"Albert," she murmured, going up to him, "I owe
you my life."

She knelt beside the bed and her delicate hand
rested on his strong hand.

"God is very good," he sighed, closing his eyes.

He went so pale that Francois came forward
quickly to feel his pulse. He was silent a moment,
then covering the patient's arm with the sheet again,
looked at his watch.

"If only this doctor would come . . ." he said.

Almost Immediately the head doctor from the

THE IDOL OF PARIS 185

barracks at Palais was announced. He was a man
of forty, handsome, a little over-important, but he
understood his business well enough. He diagnosed
the wound as a fracture of the head and dressed and
bandaged it, promising to return that evening with
a soothing potion.

For Esperance he prescribed a healing lotion for
the many little scratches, which were of no gravity.
The girl was so insistent that she was allowed to
watch beside her deliverer. Genevieve and Mile.
Frahender also stayed in the room, ready in case she
needed help. A dispatch was sent to the Countess.

Quiet redescended on the farm. A heavy atmo-
sphere of sadness seemed to envelop it. Lunch was
served disjointedly, nobody cared to eat. Genevieve
and Mile. Frahender had been relieved by the maid,
but they were anxious to return to their posts, and
when Francois began to fold his napkin, they pushed
back their chairs and quickly returned to the sick-
chamber. The patient was becoming delirious. The
name of Esperance was continually recurrent in his
confused talk. Once the young girl trembled; the
Count's expression had become so ferocious that she
was terrified. Genevieve and the old Mademoiselle
had just come in. She clung to them, clenching her
hands and hiding her face. She pointed to the Count,
who, with his brows contracted and his lips sternly
set, was talking volubly. All three trembled. He
ground out the name of the Duke of Morlay-La-
Branche in a kind of roar. Mile. Frahender, more

1 86 THE IDOL OF PARIS

composed than the girls, took the potion left by the
doctor to calm the fever when it should become too
raging. Esperance hardened herself against the
weakness which had made her leave the bedside, and
while Genevieve held the bandaged head she poured
the liquid between the sick man's lips. At the same
time she spoke to him very gently.

The well-known, much-loved voice had more effect
than the potion. The wounded man grew gradually
calmer, and still unconscious, slept quietly once more.
Then Esperance sank back in an easy chair, begging
Mile. Frahender to see that no one should make
any noise. When the doctor returned at nine, he
found the patient had been sleeping for an hour. He
was well satisfied, and waited a half-hour more be-
fore disturbing him to dress the wound. He could
say nothing definitely as yet, except that the patient
had lost no ground.

He took his leave until next day, and when Fran-
cois asked him to insist upon his daughter's rest,
he refused, saying, *'I shall do nothing of the kind.
She risks nothing except a slight fatigue, and she is
performing a good work. It may be that she is the
real doctor.*'

A telegram from Madame Styvens announced that
she would arrive next day with the doctor who had
attended Albert from childhood, and a friend. She
asked that rooms be reserved at the hotel at Palais.
But Frangois would reserve only the *'Five Divisions
of the World" for the three travellers. They pre-

THE IDOL OF PARIS 187

pared one of the rooms as a dressing-room for the
Countess, and Maurice and Jean went to lodge at the
farmer's.

It was with infinite discretion that Esperance broke
the news of his mother's coming to Albert.

"Poor mother," he said, "she must be living
through hours of anguish in her anxiety. But the
doctor said that I am out of danger."

"What! you were not asleep!"

He smiled with the almost childish smile of the
very ill returning to life.

"Then I shall be on my guard, henceforth," she
threatened him gently with a slender finger.

He stretched his hand out towards her. She
pressed it tenderly.

"Be careful, Albert, don't move too much."

They had completely dropped the "Monsieur"
and "Mademoiselle," and this intimacy filled the
young man's heart with joy.

CHAPTER XX

Francois had made a special arrangement with the
captain of the Soulacroup, so that the charming
Countess need not risk travelHng with geese and pigs.
At Quiberon he had reserved a special room that she
might have at least an hour of rest. She went pale
as death when she saw the philosopher and his wife
waiting for her at the train, although they had sent
her reassuring telegrams every few hours. But
feared that something serious might have happened
while she was on the way.

Francois said with emotion as he kissed her trem-
bling hand, "Everything is going well, Madame, be
assured."

She breathed deeply and the colour returned to her
face, which was still so youthful in appearance. She
presented Doctor Chartier, who had been present at
Albert's birth, and had cared for him ever since, and
General van Berger. Several peasant women, who
had heard the news of her coming, pressed around
offering flowers.

"Your son is saved, Madame," they said.

Her mother's soul was overcome with sorrow and
joy, for she felt that they spoke the truth.

Esperance, who had been watching for her coming,

threw herself into her arms sobbing, but quickly

i88

THE IDOL OF PARIS 189

realizing her impatience — "Come, come, he is expect-
ing you."

In spite of her efforts to keep calm the poor woman
cast herself upon the bed and embraced her son,
interrupting her sobs with words of endearment,
crying, laughing, delirious with happiness, for he was
indeed alive, and she had feared . . . But she cast
away the terrible thought.

The doctor from the barracks entered for a con-
sultation with Doctor Chartier, who issued the smil-
ing command, "Leave him to the doctors now, good
ladies."

The Countess pressed a last kiss on her son's hand
and went away with Genevieve and Esperance.

After Doctor Chartier had examined the wound,
he congratulated his confrere. "You have cared for
our patient admirably, and you will find that his
mother Is eternally grateful to you."

And indeed the Countess did press his hands and
expressed with noble simplicity her gratitude to
everyone for all that had been done for her son.

The doctors were to return in the evening. Albert
begged his mother to take a little rest.

"If I have your word, dear mama, I declare to
you I will go to sleep, I am so relieved to know
your anxiety Is over."

"I will take care of your mother, Albert," said
Esperance. "You take your medicine and go to
sleep. Genevieve has promised to come and fetch
me If you do not."

190 THE IDOL OF PARIS

The Countess smiled as she went out with the
young girl. She looked at the pretty face, which
was still scarred by the marks of her fall. She lis-
tened, trembling with terror, but admiring the cool-
ness and courage of her adored son, while the little
artist gave her account of the accident. Then she
sent for Maurice and Jean Perliez that she might
thank them repeatedly. She loved them all for their
goodness and simplicity.

"The maid Is at your disposal, Madame, I will
send her to you," said Esperance. She bent to kiss
the Countess's hand, but found her face caressed by
it.

*'My daughter, my dear daughter," said the Coun-
tess, kissing her tenderly.

Esperance went away mystified, and in a daze.

In eight days. Doctor Chartier left them. The
invalid was now convalescent, but still confined to
his room for several days. The head wound was
closing little by little. Happily the cut had been a
clean one and there had been no complications; but
fatigue was to be avoided, and the young Count was
not allowed to exert himself in any way. He usually
settled himself in a big arm-chair near the window,
and while his mother did some embroidering, Esper-
ance read aloud. Every two hours they were re-
lieved by Madame Darbois and Genevieve. As to
Maurice, he had made a plot in concert with Esper-
ance and Albert, of offering a portrait of her son to
the charming Countess. Baron van Berger played

THE IDOL OF PARIS 191

endless games of cards with Francois. The days
passed quickly and everyone seemed happy. Esper-
ance's face was as lovely as ever, for every scar had
disappeared.

The accident to Count Styvens had made a great
stir in the fashionable world, where the young Bel-
gian diplomat was much esteemed and even loved,
and the artistic world was interested on account of
Esperance. Telegrams and letters came in every
day. The Duke de Morlay-La-Branche had shown
such an interest that the object of it (the Count)
grew exasperated. The Duke had even expressed a
desire to come and see the sufferer, but the philoso-
pher, warned by Jean Perliez, replied coldly, plead-
ing the doctor's orders.

At last the day came when the Count was permit-
ted to leave the sick room. He was allowed to take
a walk, and felt so strong that when Maurice of-
fered his assistance he refused it quite gaily. Esper-
ance and the Countess walked on either side of him;
but suddenly he grew dizzy, and stretched out his
arms. Maurice started forward to catch him as he
tottered, and the Count saved himself by catching
hold of the shoulder of Esperance. Under this
heavy burden Esperance shuddered and nearly fell,
and grew so pale that Genevieve came to her.

**Give me your arm, darling, and walk a little
behind with me, you seem so shaken. . . . Oh! I
guess why. . . ."

Maurice and General van Berger supported AI-

192 THE IDOL OF PARIS

bert, who had lost his self-reliance and was a little
crest-fallen.

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

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

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

Genevieve shivered and grew silent, while pressing
Esperance close to her side to give her courage. Her
friend's confidences troubled her sadly. She also
saw the shade of sorrow hovering over this pure face.
She was on the point of encouraging Esperance to
refuse the union which would no doubt be proposed
for her, but the recollection of the Duke haunted her.
Was not this man more to be feared than death it-
self?

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

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

"Nevertheless we can deprive them of power I"

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

THE IDOL OF PARIS 193

happiness Is always found where love Is equal."

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

The Count looked straight at Esperance and she
could not prevent herself from blushing.

"My God, have pity on me," she thought. "Help
me to love this man."

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

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

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

"Reflect very carefully," she said to him, "reflect
very carefully. I believe that that child, whom I
love, whom I find absolutely charming, will not will-

194 THE IDOL OF PARIS

ingly renounce her art. However, I am ready to
do all I can to persuade her to accede to our desire
and leave a career which would be an endless source
of worry and suffering for you, my dear son."

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

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

She took the head of the dearly loved son In her
hands, and looking deep in his eyes, said fervently
— "Dear God! May happiness reward so great a
love!"

The young Count returned with his mother to the
farm where Francois Darbois and his wife waited
for them by agreement. After a quarter of an hour's
conversation, Esperance was asked to come to her
parents. She was in her room. Her heart beat as
if it would break. She had been warned by Maurice
of her family's interview with the Countess. Gene-
vieve was with her, extolling the advantages of such
a union, at the same time exalting the real goodness
of the Count.

"Think also of your father, who at last will be
able to realize his dream of becoming a member of
the Academy. You know as well as I do that he
Jias every chance of being elected, but he will never

THE IDOL OF PARIS 195

present himself as long as you are on the stage. You
know the stralghtlaced, old-fashioned ways of that
assembly. . . .''

*'But most of them are poets and dramatic writ-
ers," replied Esperance. "Why should my father
care to belong to the Academy at all?"

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

Just then the maid came into the room.

"Monsieur wants to see Mademoiselle. Ma-
dame and Countess Styvens are with him."

"Very well; say I will come immediately."

Esperance threw her arms around her friend's
neck. "If you could only know how I thank you."

She went to obey the summons of her parents, re-
solved and comforted by her friend's words. Her
father gave her in a few words the Countess's mes-
sage. She went forward, very much agitated, her
lips trembling, her voice uncertain — "Madame, I
thank God for giving me another mother who Is so
good, so lovable."

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

Maurice, the Baron, Jean, IMlle. Frahender and

196 THE IDOL OF PARIS

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

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

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

"Ah ! Maurice, Maurice . . ."

He threw his arms about the young man and was
off on a run for the farm. He entered like one dis-
traught, bent over his mother's hands, and cover-
ing them with kisses, murmuring half-finished
phrases. Esperance was beside the Countess. He
stood an instant in silence before her, looking at
her questlonlngly. Blushing and embarrassed the
young girl held out her hands to him and replied
low to the question in his eyes, "Yes."

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

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

The good man had expressed the general senti-
ment.

THE IDOL OF PARIS 197

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

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

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

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

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

*'Have you never been in love?*'

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

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

She did not answer at once.

*TheDuke?"

•Tes, the Duke."

198 THE IDOL OF PARIS

*'I do not love him," she answered frightened.
**At moments I even hate him, and . . ."

*'And?" insisted the young man, pressing the
hand he was still holding.

"... I am happy to be your fiance! ! !"

Her voice vibrated, her eyes were tender with
gratitude.

During the dinner Countess Styvens announced
that she must go next day.

"I will take my mother to Brussels," said Albert,
*'and if you will permit me, I will return immedi-
ately."

The dinner was very gay, for they were all hnppy.
Esperance herself, so restless, so disturbed only that
morning, talked animatedly, keeping them all de-
lighted with her grace and indefinable charm. Gene-
vieve was astonished, doubting for a little while
whether she was simply purposely creating a false
excitement. But no, she was really happy.

Baron van Berger rose for a little toast.

"Dear friend," he said, bowing to the Countess,
**I am delighted to see that you are reinforcing the
ranks and enlisting the younger class. This rein-
forcement will bring you light, the joy of its twenty
years. I drink to your sun of Austerlitz."

Then, turning towards Albert, ''I drink to the line
of little soldiers that you will give to Belgium, my
boy."

The Count became scarlet. Esperance dropped

THE IDOL OF PARIS 199

her eyes. Maurice could hardly restrain his desire
to laugh.

"Do not forget that life is a battle," continued the
General. "Do not shut yourself up in your happi-
ness, but be always on your guard . . . !''

"I drink to you. Lady Esperance, who bear a
name of hope for the future, for you will certainly
understand that the most beautiful role to play is
that of wife and mother, which has nothing to do
with your theatrical fictions . . /'

Esperance rose, but Albert restrained her, look-
ing at his mother. The charming woman said tact-
fully, "My good friend, I think that you have spoken
according to your own convictions. Esperance will
conduct herself always as seems best to her."

"How kind you are, Madame!" And the young
girl went and kissed her hand.

This little incident had interfered with the quiet
of the evening. But Esperance resumed her seren-
ity, as she understood that her future mother-in-
law had quite recognized the possibility that she
might remain faithful to her art.

As to Maurice, the Baron had put him in such
spirits that he was sparkling with wit, and the din-
ner ended in the most delightful camaraderie and
good feeling. Esperance, before they had time to
ask her, went gaily to the piano; Albert sat down
beside her and begged that she would sing.

She agreed sweetly, on condition that her fiance

200 THE IDOL OF PARIS

should accompany her. Her voice was very pure
and clear, and she sang a simple ballad with ex-
quisite taste.

"You have no middle voice," objected the Baron.

*'Quite true," agreed Esperance with a silvery
laugh; "you are terribly frank."

When the girls were alone together finally, Gene-
vieve complimented her friend upon all that had
happened.

"You were adorably gracious, dear little Countess,
and I believe in your happiness!"

"No, Genevieve," said Esperance, "I shall not
be happy, I know it, except in so far as I can give
happiness. I love Countess Styvens very deeply.
I am touched by Albert's love, I see that I shall be
forced by loyalty to renounce the theatre ; I shall be
torn by regret, for I fear my life will be spoiled,
and I am not yet twenty!"

She was sitting on her bed, looking so forlorn that
Genevieve slipped down beside her and drew the
little blonde head to her shoulder.

"You, dear," asked Esperance, "will you re-
nounce the theatre if Maurice tells you that he
wishes it?"

"I shall not even wait for him to tell me . . .
If Maurice wishes me to be his companion through
life, I will sacrifice everything for him, with only
one regret, that I have not enough to give up for
him!"

\ THE IDOL OF PARIS 201

'*0h!" said Esperance, miserably, "you are in
love, but I am not."

And the unhappy child, stifling her sobs, hid her
head In the pillow.

Two days later, the Countess, her son and the
Baron left for Brussels.

Madame Styvens had questioned Esperance very
adroitly, and she left Penhouet with a pretty good
idea of her tastes and preferences.

It was then the end of August, and the banns were
to be published for November. The Baron was to
arrange for the marriage in Brussels, but it was
agreed that the young couple should live in Paris,
and the Countess proposed to pick out a pretty house
to shelter the happiness of her son. She herself
would live in Paris; but she refused to share their
home.

"I shall look for a house or an apartment near
by."

The adieux were tender on both sides. Esperance
was so sensitive to the charm of her mother-in-law
that it made her seem devoted to her fiance. . . .

CHAPTER XXI

The news of the engagement of Esperance and the
Count Styvens was known all over Paris. Letters
came to the farm of Penhouet, done up in packets.
Many expressed to the philosopher and his wife their
joy at hearing that their daughter had decided to
leave a career so ... so very ... in which . . .
in fact that . . . ! Every absurd prejudice, so puri-
tantly ingrained in the minds of most middle class
divisions and sections and even amongst the more
cultivated, was endlessly repeated upon with the usual
banalities in the large correspondence of their friends
and others. Poor actors, so misunderstood! so mis-
represented! The philosopher showed all the letters
to Esperance, who shrugged her shoulders, aston-
ished to find there was so much prejudice In the
world against her beloved calling. One letter, how-
ever, she took quite seriously. It was written by the
most eminent of all the Academicians. One sen-
tence in the epistle wounded the poor child very
deeply. *'Now I shall be able to go about your elec-
tion with more confidence and security. Dare I ad-
mit to you, my dear Professor, that the only ob-
stacle I encountered, and which seemed to me insur-
mountable, was the career chosen by that lovely

202

THE IDOL OF PARIS 203

child, your daughter, whose talent we all admire so
much ! Now I can start my campaign, and I am
very sure, my dear Darbois, of achieving our am-
bition without much difficulty. Therefore, perhaps,
I shall not altogether deserve your thanks.'*

What Genevieve had said was patently true; her
father had sacrificed his dearest hope to her, and he
had done it so all unostentatiously. . . . Ah ! how
she loved her father, who was unlike other men ! He
was standing there before her, smiling, a little scorn-
ful of all these little souls. And as he handed her
another letter — "No, father dear, no, I beg you.
Pardon me the wrong that I have been doing you ; I
admire you and I love you, dear papa, but leave me
with the noble feeling of your supreme kindness; I
would rather not know any more of the little mean-
nesses of the world."

She climbed on her father's knees and covered his
forehead with kisses.

"Look," said Mme. Darbois, holding up a letter,
"eight pages from your godfather."

Esperance jumped up laughing, "That I certainly
shall not read."

"I am going to write to the Countess that I give
up my art. . . ." And swift as a shadow she was
gone.

The philosopher sat hesitating, his expression
troubled. Had he the right to compel this sacrifice,
knowing, realizing, as he did, that his child had based
all the happiness of her life on the career she was

204 THE IDOL OF PARIS

now voluntarily giving up for his sake? Germaine
looked at him questionlngly.

*'Do you believe, my dear, that I ought to let
Esperance write to the Countess, as she proposes?
I fear that she Is making this sacrifice to gratify my
vanity."

"Francois!" exclaimed Mme. Darbois indignantly.

*'My pride, if you prefer it," he said. "But what
is such a satisfaction in comparison with the happi-
ness of a life? To me it seems very unjust!"

Germaine adored her husband and her daughter,
but she believed more, than in anything in the world,
in the noble genius of the philosopher.

"Esperance's sacrifice," she said, "is very slight.
She is making a superb marriage into one of the
noblest, richest families in Belgium. Albert worships
the ground she walks on. The Countess will be more
than indulgent to her. She is realizing the most
perfect future a young girl can hope for. I see noth-
ing to regret, because she Is making a slight con-
cession to her father."

Francois looked a little sadly at this mother who
had never comprehended her daughter's psychology.
He knew that for this sweet woman the happiness of
life began with her husband and ended with him.

He did not want to argue and rose, saying, "I
must do some work."

He kissed the unllned forehead of his beloved
wife, and then as he was leaving the room added,

THE IDOL OF PARIS 205

*'Tell Esperance I should like to see her letter be-
fore she sends it."

Esperance sat at her desk in her own room, but
she sat with her head in her hands, unable to begin
her letter. Presently Genevieve came in.

**Is anything the matter, dear?"

Esperance told her what had just happened down-
stairs.

*'I have learned once more that all your reasonings
and counsels are always wise, dear sister. ... I am
sitting trying how to write to the Countess to tell
her that I am not going back to the stage !"

Genevieve kissed her. Esperance let her head fall
on her friend's bosom, and raising her eyes to her
face, said slowly, "But oh ! I have not the courage."

Genevieve knelt beside the desk, and dipping the
pen in the ink, put a fresh sheet of paper before Es-
perance, saying with a laugh, "Mile., get on with
your task. I am the school mistress to see that you
write properly!"

The smile she brought to Esperance's lips chased
away the nebulous uncertainties, and so she wrote
her letter to her dear little "Countess-mama," as she
had called her since her engagement. When her
mother came with the philosopher's message and saw
the letter, she was delighted with the phrasing and
thanked her daughter warmly for the joy it would
give her father.

"Ah I mama, I believe that I am the happiest of

2o6 THE IDOL OF PARIS

the three Darbois, dear ridiculous mama !" And
she gave her a quick embrace.

Life was again travelling the simple, daily country
round. It was after lunch, three days after Esper-
ance had written her letter.

"Why so pensive, little daughter? Where were
your thoughts?"

Esperance jumped up at this question from her
father.

"I was dreaming. I am so sorry. I was in
Belgium, near the Countess Styvens when my letter
would be brought in to her, for, as nearly as I can
make out, it ought to arrive to-day."

"No," said M. Darbois, "that letter has not been
delivered; it is still in my desk."

Their faces expressed the great astonishment that
they felt.

"You did not like it, papa?"

"Very much, very much. It is quite good — and —
and pathetic."

"Then, darling papa?"

"I want to talk with you a little more before you
send it."

Everyone drank their coffee a little quicker, and
five minutes later Francois found himself alone with
his daughter. Even Mme. Darbois had withdrawn,
afraid that she might show her own anxiety too much.

"I am listening to you, papa."

"You are going to answer my questions with per-
fect frankness, Esperance?"

THE IDOL OF PARIS 207

*Tes, father."

*'Had you thought of writing to Countess Styvens
before you read that letter?"

He drew the Academician's letter from his port-
folio and placed it before her.

"No, father dear."

"Then it was on my account, and to facilitate my
admittance to the Academy, that you wrote?"

"Oh! no," replied Esperance quickly, "I would
not do you that injustice, knowing how much you
love me, and knowing the purity of your heart, the
nobility of your ambition. I am sacrificing what I
believe, perhaps wrongly, to be my happiness, to the
demands of a misunderstanding world. I knew,
when I read that letter, that I had no right to drag
a man of your merit, my dear mother, and all the
family, into the troubles of a life in which they have
no real interest. I did not want you to have the
sympathy of the world. Sympathy is too often akin
to scorn!"

Frangois would have spoken, but Esperance inter-
rupted him.

"Oh! father darling. You are so good. Don't
torment me further, send the letter. I am still so
new to this role. I need your sincere, your constant
help."

Just then Marguerite came in and handed the
philosopher a letter, bearing an armorial seal, which
had just com*e from Palais. He quickly opened It,
seemed surprised and passed It to his daughter.

2o8 THE IDOL OF PARIS

*'What! The Duchess de Castel-Montjoie Is at
Palais," she said. Then she read: *'My dear Phi-
losopher, the Princess and I will come, if agreeable
to you, after five. I name this hour because the
Princess's yacht has to leave to take up friends who
are waiting for us at Brehat."

*'What time is it?" said Esperance, turning round.

The professor consulted his watch.

^'Twenty minutes past three. Quick, Marguerite,
tell the men to harness the victoria with the two
horses at once."

A quarter of an hour later the carriage was ready
to leave. When it had disappeared round the corner
from the farm, Genevieve and her friend prepared
to go for a walk. Esperance told her mother and
Mile. Frahender that they would be back again in
half an hour. They climbed down the cliff, and were
soon out of earshot of everyone — they were quite
alone. "Genevieve, Genevieve," said Esperance, "I
feel that a new danger is threatening me, ready to
destroy all my new illusions. Do not leave me, dar-
ling."

"What IS It that you fear?"

"I can only be sure of one thing, I am in such
horrible distress, and that is that the Duke de Mor-
lay-La-Branche is at the bottom of this visit. Ah! if
I could be sure that I should never see him again,
never, never! . . ."

And she cried In her great distress like a little
child.

THE IDOL OF PARIS 209

Genevieve stayed at her side, without saying a
word, only stroking her hands from time to time.
Presently Esperance grew calmer.

*'Come," she said, rising from the boulder on
which they had seated themselves. *'We must dress
to receive the enemy's emissaries." Her voice was
light, but her heart was heavy.

Maurice, who had been strolling not far off with
Jean, came up and noticing Esperance's tearful eyes,
said: ''What is the matter?"

"I dread this visit," exclaimed Esperance.

"What is the reason of this sudden call?" ejacu-
lated Maurice.

*'I think I can guess," said the actor.

"Well, tell me!"

"But if I should be wrong?" said Jean.

"What a frightful lot of circumlocution," cried
Maurice impatiently, pretending to tear out his hair.

But Esperance replied, "No, Jean, you are not mis-
taken. I can guess your thoughts. I am afraid, as I
just now said to- Genevieve, that the Duke de Mor-
lay-La-Branche is connected In some way with this
visit of the Princess and her friend!"

"If the Duke comes here, which I do not believe,
Jean and I will not leave him alone a minute. I as-
sure you that he will get more of our company than
he will appreciate. But, knowing that the Count is
not here, I do not think he will come. He is too
correct for that! Come, let us dance in honour of
Albert!"

2IO THE IDOL OF PARIS

Taking his cousin's hands and Genevieve's, he nod-
ded his head to Jean to do the same thing, and led
them Into a whirlwind dance upon the sands of the
beach, until the girls laughed as though no heavy
thoughts were weighing In their hearts.

Two hours later the victoria arrived from Palais.
The young people could see that It contained only
two ladies and the philosopher, and Genevieve
breathed again.

The Princess descended lightly before the front
door. She kissed Esperance, and after speaking to
Mme. Darbois, had Maurice, Jean and Genevieve
presented to her.

"You did the portrait of which the Duke de Mor-
lay has spoken so highly?"

Maurice bowed.

"Would It be Impertinence If I asked you to let
me see it?" she said with a smile.

"I thank you, Madame; you flatter me by your
request."

The Dowager Duchess, with whom the Princess
had been spending three weeks at her Chateau of
Castel-Montjoie, was now presented to Mme. Dar-
bois. She was a lovable and delightful old lady, with
a great appreciation of art and science. Both ladies
had been present with the Duke at the last Conser-
vatoire competition, and they expressed to Esper-
ance, Genevieve and Jean the enjoyment their per-
formances had given them. The Duchess was much
struck by Genevieve's proud beauty, and said to Mau-

THE IDOL OF PARIS 211

rice, "Ah! Monsieur, what another beautiful portrait
you could makel This young lady is much more
beautiful close to than even on the stage !" And she
added a kind and appreciative word for the classic
talent of Jean Perliez.

Tea was to be served in the little beautiful con-
volvulus garden. When they entered this shelter,
which a poet might have designed, the Duchess ex-
claimed enviously, "What a heavenly spot. Who is
the inspired, who has arranged this mysterious flow-
ery retreat for you?"

The philosopher pointed to Maurice and the girls.

The Princess admired it, and the conversation rip-
pled on. "We are come to trouble your bower with
a plea for charity! Every year, the Duchess gives
a garden party in her beautiful park at Montjoie for
the benefit of the "Orphans of the Fishermen."
There is a little open-air theatre, where some of the
greatest actors have appeared. Little rustic booths,
shops where you pay a great deal for nothing at all,
and a thousand other distractions. We are come,
the Duchess and I, drawn by a very pretty star, Es-
perance. She will not deny us her light, our lovely
little star?" she concluded, bending towards Esper-
ance.

"But, Madame," murmured Esperance, "my de*
cision — my promises do not depend on myself alone,

now."

The Duchess extracted a letter from her gold mesk
bag and held it towards her.

212 THE IDOL OF PARIS

"You are perfectly right, my dear child," she said
easily. "I also foresaw that objection, so I wrote to
your fiance, even before speaking to you, for which I
must apologize, and here is his answer."

Esperance read the little missive bearing the Sty-
vens's arms and handed it back to the Duchess.

"I will not be," she said smiling sadly, "more
royalist than the king. Madame, I am at the service
of your work."

This was a great delight to the two kindly disposed
women, but the young girl's heart was torn because
her fiance would not see ! It is true that his letter
ended with the words, "I agree with both hands to
whatever Esperance shall decide," so that little choice
was left.

The garden party was to be the twentieth of Sep-
tember. It was then the end of August.

"And of what nature is to be the modest contribu-
tion I can make to your fete?" asked Esperance, half
humorously.

"Modest! Of course you will be the principal
attraction. My guests, knowing that they will see
you for the last time before Count Styvens carries his
little idol away from the public . . ."

Esperance was saying to herself, "so this culti-
vated broad-minded lady thinks just as the others
do."

The Princess continued, "We want you to play
ivith your fiance the Liszt symphonic poem that you
played one evening at the Legation; and to take

THE IDOL OF PARIS 213;

part in some tableaux vivants that we are all to ap-
pear In. The Duke de Morlay-La-Branche is direct-
ing and staging this part of the programme. The
performance will be given only by people we know —
no professionals."

The Princess had spoken quite quickly, without
reflection. She blushed slightly when she remem-
bered Esperance and Jean Perliez, but she had made
the mistake and there was no way of calling it back.
She thought that Esperance belonged to that circle
where a compliment effaces what might seem like
an impertinence.

At first the name of the Duke de Morlay had fal-
len like a pebble in the ocean and began to ripple the
waters; a spreading circle of thoughts, fears, resent-
ments began to move in every heart. The philoso-
pher himself was troubled, for he had been prompted
by Maurice to observe the assiduous attractions of
the Duke, and the agitation he caused Esperance
whenever they had been together. Esperance and
Genevieve both grew pale. The young painter raised
his head, ready for some sort of a return reply.
Without hesitation he had decided on the plan to fol-
low. He must not only be invited to the fete, which
would be easy enough; he must take part in it, so as
to be able to shadow and watch the manoeuvres of
the over agreeable Duke.

"If you will allow me, Madame," he said boldly,
"I should like to contribute my mite to your fete by
painting the scenery."

214 THE IDOL OF PARIS

The Princess clapped her hands with delight at
the suggestion and this new support.

"Kow pleased my cousin de Morlay will be/' she
exclaimed. ''He has just been saying to me, 'For
the scenery we shall require a painter, a real
artist.' "

"A professional," said Maurice, bowing ironically.

The Princess was somewhat provoked, but she ap-
peared not to notice the rather pointed remark.

"You might also design the costumes for the tab-
leaux vivants," she continued.

"My cousin," exclaimed Esperance, "has a great
gift for arrangement and composition. You will be
able to judge for yourself soon; I will show you how
beautifully he has painted my portrait."

"True. May we see it now?"

This made a welcome change for the four young
people. They all went towards the "Five Divisions
of the World." The Duchess stopped every now
and then on the way to admire the sea and the lum-
inous quality of the air. She was really amazed when
she was shown the picture. It had been installed In
the little court, under a kind of alcove that Maurice
had made for it. He had found In his aunt's "re-
liquary" some pretty hangings which hid the alcove,
and the picture lost nothing by the arrangement of
drapery.

"You have indeed a beautiful portrait there," said
the Princess sincerely. "Every year for his birthday

THE IDOL OF PARIS 215

I give my husband some work of art. If you do not
find me too unworthy a subject it shall be signed this
year, 'Maurice Renaud.' "

The young man bowed. "I shall be very happy
indeed, Madame, and very highly honoured."

"Then, as our friend and collaborator," said the
Duchess, "you must, I think, come with us at once
so as to be able to get to work with the Duke with-
out delay."

"Give me time to pack my bag, Madame," re-
turned the triumphant Maurice, "and I will join you
at the carriage."

"I will come and help with your packing, cousin.
You will excuse me?" she added turning to the Prin-
cess.

And Esperance, followed by Genevieve and Jean
Perliez disappeared together.

As soon as she was sure she was out of ear-shot
Esperance threw her arms about her cousin's neck.
"You were simply wonderful."

"Yes," joined in Maurice, "the enemy has fallen
into the ambush, as Baron van Berger would say.
I will be back as soon as possible, but I must take
time to rout our amiable Duke. He is the real
enemy, and the most difficult opponent, but I am con-
fident. With my most diabolical scheming, little
cousin, I am going to have great fun. All the same,
I foresee that I sha'n't be able to stay away long."
And he kissed Genevieve's hand tenderly.

2i6 THE IDOL OF PARIS

They soon finished the packing, and Jean closed
the suitcase, and the young people arrived at the
carriage just as it drew up.

*'How very good it is of you to accept this sudden
demand upon your services with such good grace!'*

"I must remind you, Madame, that I suggested
the work myself and I am glad to do it. I am also
quite happy to be carried off by you, as it is such an
unlooked-for pleasure."

Two days later the professor had a letter from
Maurice, which he read aloud to the family as they
drank their coffee.

"My dear Uncle, — This letter is to be shared by
the whole community. I have found a world gone
mad in this magnificent chateau. We are twenty-
two at table. I have been cordially welcomed by all
the strangers, to whom this cursed Duke, delightful
fellow, has graciously presented me. I set to work
at once to unravel and discover the plans of Charles
de Morlay. But more anon. This is the pro-
gramme : an orchestra composed of excellent artists
are to play while the guests arrive, inspect each other,
and take their places. We begin with a little ballet,
entitled. The Moon in Search of Pierrot^ acted and
danced by some very good amateurs. I am to paint
the drop for this ballet, and the authors (it has
taken three of them to elaborate the stupidest sce-
nario you ever yawned through) have called for a
Scandinavian design and I have promised it, and
:shall paint it at Penhouet. Then, the great attrac-

THE IDOL OF PARIS 217

tion, the tableaux vivants. That is where I lay in
wait for our astute Duke. I will spare you details
of nine of the tableaux. There are to be twelve,
but Esperance appears only in three, which are the
best. In one she represents Andromeda fastened to
the rock, and Perseus (the Duke) delivers her after
overcoming the dragon. In the second, the *'Judg-
ment of Paris," she appears as Aphrodite, to whom
Paris (the Duke) gives the apple. The third is
"Europa and the Bull," Europa being personified
by Esperance. The Duke does not wish to look ri-
diculous in a bull's hide, so takes liberties with the
legend and transforms the bull into a centaur. I have
said 'Amen' to everything. Finally to complete the
fete, which will no doubt be well attended and very
profitable, there will be little shops of all kinds.
Esperance is to sell flowers from the Duchess's gar-
dens. I have my own idea on this point, which I
shall later confide to you. I can easily get her fiance
to agree. Your nephew, dear uncle, should live in
the land of honey for the future. I have already
had orders for three portraits, and of three pretty
women, which assures me that portraits will be suc-
cessful. Ahem ! I am taking all my notes to-day and
will be with you the day after to-morrow. It is up to
you, dear uncle, to distribute in unequal or suitable
doses my respects and love and affection amongst
all those anxious to receive such privileges. Your
affectionately devoted, Maurice."

"It seems to me," said Genevieve, as she left the

2i8 THE IDOL OF PARIS

dining-room with Esperance, *'that your cousin has
arranged everything very well, and that you ought
to be quite happy and content/*

"Oh! I know very well that I shall be taken care
of, but how can I struggle against the tumultuous
ideas that assail me? The vision of the Duke has
haunted me ev^er since Maurice left. I have never
seen the chateau, but I am sure that I shall recognize
it. I would like to fall 111 with some complaint that
would send me to sleep and sleep. Oh! If I could
get a little ugly for a little while, just long enough
to make the Duke lose interest In me, I should be
so glad. Dear Genevieve, can't you give me a little
dose of the elixir of your happiness. I need it sorely
just now."

The girls had been walking as they talked down to
the little beach at Penhouet. The sea was at low
tide, and the golden sand, dried by the sun, offered
them a restful couch. They stretched themselves
out upon it, and Esperance soon fell asleep. Jean
Perllez appeared on the crest of the little hill that
hides the bay from the sightseeker. Genevieve
signed to him to come down quietly. He had a tele-
gram, a dispatch from Belgium. He pinned It to
Esperance's hat lying on the sand at her side, and
dropping down close to Genevieve, began to talk in
low tones. For both he and Genevieve were uneasy
concerning their little friend.

A farm dog at the moment began to bark furi-
ously. Esperance woke quickly, looking pale and

THE IDOL OF PARIS 219

worried, with her hands pressed on her frightened
heart. She saw the telegram and opened it quickly.

"Albert will be here this evening by the second
boat. What time is it?" She showed a little emo-
tion, but only a little, though she felt deeply.

She looked towards the sun.

"It can't be four yet."

Jean took out his watch.

"Twenty to four," he said.

"The boat can't get here before five-thirty.
Quick, quick, run, Jean, and ask to have some con-
veyance got ready. I must go and tell my father
and get his permission to go with you and Genevieve
to meet my fiance. Ah! what good luck!" she said
with a long breath, "What good luck!"

Frangois Darbois was delighted for his daughter
to go and meet Albert, and departed so radiantly
that he said to his wife, "I believe she is getting to
love this brave Albert."

Genevieve, who had heard, as had also Jean, said
to the young man in a low voice, "But, my God!
suppose she is beginning to love the Duke?"

CHAPTER XXII

The boat approached the little quay of Palais slowly
with Count Styvens standing well forward, his tall
figure silhouetted against the grey of the sea. He
caught sight of Esperance Immediately, as she stood
up in the brake, waving her handkerchief. Great
happiness was in his heart, and In his haste to be
ashore, he went to assist them to lay down the gang-
plank, and was at the carriage In a second, kissing
most tenderly the hand Esperance held out to him.
A great basket was placed on the seat. The girls
blushed with pleasure, for a sweet odour was wafted
to them from it.

All the way home Esperance heard from Albert
in detail all that had happened to him since she had
last seen him. She talked incessantly, as if to drown
her thoughts under a sea of nonsense. At the farm
the young man could see the pleasure they all showed
at his return. Of course he was somewhat aston-
ished to learn that Maurice was absent with the
Duchess, for he had not yet heard of the events that
had happened during his absence.

They all gathered together in the dining-room.
The Count took out of his pocket a little case, and
asking Esperance to give him her hand, slipped on
to her middle finger a magnificent engagement ring.

220

THE IDOL OF PARIS 221

Somehow her hand went cold as death as Albert held
it, and her face contracted strangely.

"Do you regret your word already, Esperance?'^
he asked in a nervous, low voice.

*'No, no, Albert," she said quickly, nervously
twisting the ring on her finger, *'but this is a very
serious moment, and you know that I incline to tak-
ing things seriously here," and she put her hand
across her heart. Then she smiled, pressed his hand,
and showed the ring to Genevieve. They all exam-
ined and admired the beautiful jewel. When the
philosopher turned to praise it Albert had disap-
peared.

The basket was opened revealing a bouquet of
magnificent white orchids, marvellously fresh, held
in a white scarf with embroidered ends.

When they assembled for dinner an hour later,
Esperance was not present, and Albert began to look
uneasy. But they had not to wait, and when she
did appear she was dressed all in white, an em-
broidered scarf fastened about her waist, and several
orchids arranged like a coronet in her hair. At that
moment she seemed almost supernaturally beautiful.

"What a pity that Maurice is not here ! You are
so lovely this evening," said Genevieve.

"Oh," said Esperance smiling, "that is not the
only reason you regret his absence?"

Next day they were surprised to get no word from
the painter to tell them which boat he would take.
It was warm and they had coffee served in the con-

222 THE IDOL OF PARIS

volvulus bower. The breeze came through an open-
ing from the sea.

"Look! isn't that a pretty boat?" cried out
Genevieve.

A white yacht was sailing slowly towards Pen-
houet. The philosopher got his glasses.

*'It is the Princess's flag," he exclaimed.

*'Yes, yes," agreed Albert, "it is the Belgian flag.
Listen, there is the salute."

Jean ran to the farm, calling back, "I will answer
it. All right, M. Darbois?"

The flag sank and rose three times, then the yacht
headed straight for the little bay. Genevieve climbed
on a high rock and clapped her hands. "It is he,
oh! it is he."

She turned radiantly back to the party in the grove.
Her "It is he" made Albert smile. It was so charm-
ing, so sincere that they all shared the quality of her

joy.

It was indeed Maurice returning on the Princess's
yacht. The tide was so high that the boat could get
quite close.

Everyone went down to the beach where the waves
were washing the little rocks. Albert jumped on the
largest rock which seemed to recede to sea with him.
Genevieve would have followed him but he cried out,
"Look out, it is very deep here."

She stayed where she was, but so woebegone did
her face become that Albert leapt ashore again, and
before she knew what he was doing, picked her

THE IDOL OF PARIS 223

up, and was back on the slippery rock with her.

*'0h! the bold lad!" said the professor.

The little sloop had been launched and Maurice
could easily land on the big rock. He kissed Gene-
vieve, and told the Count of his delight in seeing
him again. Then he looked around him. The water
surrounded them on all sides. He looked at Gene-
vieve questioningly, but by way of response Albert
simply picked her up again and went ashore with
her. Maurice was quick and agile, he was even
strong in a nervous way, but Albert's strength and
agility filled him with wonder.

Esperance congratulated the Count on his prowess
and his kind thought in enabling Genevieve to see
Maurice a little sooner.

**It is because I know what that joy is myself,"
he answered simply.

Esperance's eyes grew moist as she turned to Al-
bert.

"You are so good, you always do the right thing.
I am prouder every day to be loved by you."

During dinner Maurice gave them an account of
all that had happened to him, with many new in-
cidents.

*'I am not telling you anything new," he added to
Albert when they were alone. "You know as well
as I do that the Duke is in love with Esperance. We
all know it here."

Albert agreed with a rather sad smile that he did
know it.

224 THE IDOL OF PARIS

"Now that my cousin is your fiance, he is too
much of a gentleman to seek her, but he certainly
wants to be near her, to talk to her, in short to flirt
with her."

"You believe that he would dare?"

"My dear cousin," said Maurice, half jestingly,
half serious. "I believe him capable of anything,
but he knows that you are here . . . and perhaps is
afraid to take liberties."

"To put an end to his manoeuvrings we must
somehow make him look ridiculous, and expose his
folly. The fete, I think, will give us our chance."

Albert said, "I will follow your advice, Mau-
rice.

"Very good. I will give you particulars of my
plans. By the way, I have brought all your invita-
tions. I will go and deliver them." So they went
to seek the others, and Maurice gave each one a card
with a personal invitation for the twentieth of Sep-
tember. Genevieve blushed.

"I am invited as well," she said.

"Of course; and I believe the amiable Duchess
intends to ask you to recite the poem she has written.
It is very touching. I will find it for you to-morrow.
Ah ! yes, you have made a great impression on that
delightful lady. She talked about you to me all the
time. You would have supposed she was doing it
to please me."

Genevieve became purple. It was the first time
Maurice had expressed himself so frankly. When

THE IDOL OF PARIS 225

they left the table she led Esperance aside and kissed
her until she almost stifled her.

"Oh! how happy I am, and how I love him!"

Maurice and Jean passed by talking so busily that
they did not see the girls.

"You are sure?"

"Absolutely. Since I have been away for four
whole days I am convinced more than ever that I
adore that girl and shall not be happy without her."

"You have written to your father?"

"Not yet. I must first of all talk to Genevieve."

"You are not afraid of what she will say? Of
her answer?"

Maurice smiled.

"I want first to tell her of my future plans, and to
have a confidential chat with her about everything."

"You will be my best man, old fellow," he went
on, clapping Jean on the shoulder. "You have
chosen the role of actor, with the temperament of a
spectator; strange lover!"

"Like any other man I follow my Destiny. You
were born for happiness, Maurice, one has only to
look at you to be convinced of it. You breathe forth
life, you love, you conquer. Youth radiates from
you. I have asked myself a hundred times why I
have chosen this career, and I am persuaded that
I must live, If at all, the life of others."

"Are you very upset — ^unhappy?" asked Maurice.

"No, oh, no; I don't suffer much, but of course I
am a little disturbed. I am like a reflection. Esper-

226 THE IDOL OF PARIS

ance's happiness elates, her sorrow depresses me. I
love her purely as an Idealist. I would like Count
Albert to look like the Duke de Morlay-La-Branche,
and still keep the noble soul that we know he pos-
sesses. If your cousin should die, I truly believe
that I would die. My life would be without aim,
without soul; bereft of light, the reflection would
vanish."

They walked slowly down to the beach to join
Albert and the girls. The night had broken soft
and limpid, full of stars, full of dreams. They sat
down on the sand, silently admiring the prospect.
The waves broke regularly as if scanning the poem
of silence. A fresh scent rose from the rocks which
were clothed with sea moss. Far away a dog was
barking. The young people were silent, united in
a mood of wonder before the depths and lights of
the night.

PART FOUR

THE CHATEAU

CHAPTER XXIII

On the fifteenth of September the girls had to tear
themselves away from their quiet retreat at Belle-
Isle, and leave Penhouet and all else to travel with
Mile. Frahender, Jean and Maurice to the Chateau
of Montjoie. When they arrived there, at ten in the
evening, Esperance recognised the Duke in the dis-
tance as soon as the carriage stopped. He was
looking out of one of the great windows above the
terrace. He was, in fact, awaiting the coming of
Esperance. But he pretended not to have seen the
carriage and continued to gaze up at the stars. Es-
perance trembled and her lips were icy cold. Albert
had also seen the Duke, and was not deceived by his
attitude. He had resolved to be calm, but a sullen,
unhidden anger arose within him.

When the housekeeper had installed the two girls
in a tower of the Chateau, she left with them a little
Breton peasant girl.

*'She will be devoted to your service," she said.
"Her name Is Jeanette. Her room is above yours
and, when you ring this bell, she will wait upon you
at once."

Esperance threw herself on her bed, still dressed,

for her heart was overflowing.

229

230 THE IDOL OF PARIS

*'Ah! why, why is Albert so trusting? Why did
he let me come here? Would it not have been
better to have run the risk of offending the
Duchess?"

And when Genevieve tried to reason with her, "I
am suffering, httle sister," she replied, "I am so un-
happy; for the sight of the Duke at the window dis-
tressed me. I trembled at the idea of seeing him
again, and yet I long for the time when I can give
him my hand."

*'But this is serious," said Genevieve. "I thought
you had recovered from all that nonsense, or rather,
I thought you would be less affected."

She helped Esperance to undress. The poor child
let her do so without a word.

She slept badly, haunted by dreams and troubled
with nightmare. At six o'clock in the morning she
woke up feverishly, and rang for the maid.

The little Breton appeared five minutes later, her
eyes still full of sleep, her cap crooked.

"Will you get me a little warm water?" asked
Esperance. "It is cold from the tap."

"It Is too early, I am afraid. Mademoiselle must
please to wait a little."

"Well, be as quick as you can, please. I want to
go for a walk in the park while there is no one
about."

The little Breton laughed. "You won't run any
danger of finding anyone at this hour. What will
the ladies take for breakfast?"

THE IDOL OF PARIS 231

*'Two cups of chocolate, please," said Genevieve,
beginning to get up.

*'Be so good as to make haste, Jeanette, get us
our hot water and our chocolate, like a good girl
and say nothing to anyone.'*

Jeanette looked in the mirror, adjusted her cap,
put back a stray lock of hair, and opened the door.
But she stopped, looking at the girls craftily.

"Which way were you going, Mademoiselle?"

"That all depends. Which way is the prettiest?"

"When you leave the Chateau you must turn to
your right and walk to the first thicket. About ten
minutes through the thicket and you will come out
on the big terrace. That is where they always take
the guests and say how beautiful it is!"

"Thank you," said Genevieve, "to the right, then
the thicket and the terrace. We aren't likely to
meet anyone?"

"Nobody is abroad but the cats at this hour,
and . . . ."

Outside the door she made a face like a mischie-
vous child who had just played a trick. Running rap-
idly across the long corridors, she mounted to the
second storey, opened an ante-chamber which led to
another room and knocked lightly. The Duke
opened the door.

"You here, Jeanette! What is it?"

"My godfather," she said very low, "the young
ladies are getting up now, and I think they are go-
ing to walk in the grove to the right of the Chateau."

232 THE IDOL OF PARIS

*'They are going . . . alone?"

''Certainly. No one else is awake, but they may
be going to meet their lovers."

"Why did you come to tell me yourself, instead
.of sending my man?"

"Because he is a lazy fellow who would have taken
an hour to dress and then would have told a lie and
said I told him too late."

"Very well, run along now, and don^t get caught."

So Jeanette sped quickly towards the kitchen to
get the hot water in a great copper can, which she
half emptied on the way to ease the weight.

As soon as they were dressed, Esperance and Gene-
vieve made quick work of their chocolate, and started
out. It was very still.

"It is the Sleeping Beauty*s wood," said Esper-
ance.

They went towards the grove they saw on their
right. At the entrance to it Esperance closed her
parasol and stopped suddenly, pressing Genevieve's
hand.

"Some one has been here already."

They both stopped motionless, listening. Not a
sound. They slowly continued on their way, but the
thicket did not lead to the terrace, and ended in a
little enclosed dell. On a pedestal a figure of Love
in Chains overlooked a stone bench.

"We have lost our way," said Genevieve. "Let
us go back."

"No, it is charming here. Let us go on to the

THE IDOL OF PARIS 233

bench. I am a little tired and my heart is beating
so. . . . What was that?"

She put her companion's hand above her heart.

"Why, what is the matter with you? Why are
you so nervous?"

"Ah!" replied Esperance, with great apprehen-
sion of she knew not what, "I feel as if I could not
struggle. . . . The presence in this house of the
Duke de Morlay overcomes me. I don't know
whether that is love; but at least it tells me that I
do not love Albert. Come, dear, let us rest a mo-

ment."

Just then a man stepped out from the thicket and
barred their way.

The Duke stood before them.

Esperance uttered one cry and fell In a faint.

The Duke started forward to catch her, but Gene-
vieve repulsed him.

*'It is a cowardly trick you have played on us, sir.
I understand now that we did not lose our way but
were duped by your orders."

As she spoke, she was trying to support Esper-
ance, but almost falling herself under the weight of
the Inert body. She cried at her own impotence, but
she was obliged to accept the Duke's help to get
Esperance as far as the marble bench.

"Try," she said, holding out Esperance's tiny
handkerchief, "to get me a little water."

"Instantly, Mademoiselle . . . there is a foun-
tain near at hand."

234 THE IDOL OF PARIS

When he came back Genevieve moistened the poor
child's temples. The Duke was very pale.

^'Mademoiselle, believe me that I am greatly upset
at what has happened. I had no idea . . . !"

"I shall be very glad to excuse you. Esperance
looks a little better, had you not better go away?"

"But I cannot leave you all alone like this."

He took Esperance's hand, and it seemed to him
that warmth came back into it.

Esperance opened her eyes. Still unconscious, she
looked at him curiously, then she cried sharply out,
"Have mercy, go away, go away!"

And she gave way to hysterical sobs.

The Duke said humbly, "I will leave you."

And then kneeling before her, "Forgive me, I am
going; I am leaving you . . . but I entreat you to
forgive me."

He was sincere in what he said. Both girls felt it.

Esperance had risen gently.

"I am betrothed to Count Styvens," she said.
"You know that. I know that my emotion just now
was foolish, but I am sick at heart and I am not
always able to control myself. You are good, I see
that. Please help me to cure myself. I will be grate-
ful to you all my life."

"I give you my word . . ." his voice trembled.
"I will make myself . . ." and he went away.

As soon as they were left alone the two girls took
counsel as to what course they should pursue. Es-
perance, in despair, threw herself on Genevieve's

THE IDOL OF PARIS 235

judgment, and Genevieve asked permission to con-
sult Maurice.

"Could we not keep It as a secret?"

*'I am afraid, darling, that that would not be right.
We are sure of Maurice's discretion, and we need
advice as well as help."

Esperance looked at her companion.

*'How could the Duke have known? Oh! I sup-
pose the little Breton girl who waits on us was the
culprit. We must get rid of her. We have only
three days to spend here, and then, too, I am sure
that the Duke will keep his word. I was struck by
his pallor, and his eyes when he looked at you were
full of tears, but I believe he was sincere; there is
less to fear from staying than fleeing perhaps, since
we know that. Let us go back."

She helped her dear little friend to get up and
they returned to the house as they had come. Ma-
demoiselle Frahender was just coming out to look for
them.

*'Here we are, little lady, don't scold," said Es-
perance playfully.

The little old lady shook her head chidingly.

"You do not look well, my child. You are up too
early. Six o'clock, that pert little Breton told me,
when I found her fumbhng in our trunks. When I
told her that I was going to complain of her she said,
*OhI don't do that, Madame, my godfather, the
Duke de Morlay, would never forgive me I'*
The girls looked at each other.

236 THE IDOL OF PARIS

"I promise to say nothing, but you must watch her
carefully."

They were just going in when Maurice joined
them, out of breath.

"Hello! cousin. Where do you spring from?"

"I have been looking for you for half an hour to
give you the programme, edited by Jean and en-
livened by your humble servant. Here you are, and
here you are, naughty lady, who gives no word of
warning to her lover of early morning escapades."

*'0h ! Maurice, it was I who led Genevieve astray,
and I am doubly repentant. She will tell you why."

Maurice grew serious.

"What means that haggard face, cousin, and the
collar of your dress is all wet? Come, come, Gene-
vieve herself seems ill at ease. I would like to know
what you two have been up to."

"Well! take her into that grove, you will find a
bench there, and she will tell you all about it. I am
going to rest," replied Esperance.

Genevieve and Maurice sat down in the grove.
After she had told him what had happened, she
added, "What seems to me to make it really serious
is that I believe the Duke to be in earnest."

"Love and flirtation often look alike," said the
young man, shrugging his shoulders.

"I don't think so," said the girl with conviction,
and continued sadly, "Esperance is fighting against
this infatuation with all her strength, but I am very

THE IDOL OF PARIS 237

uneasy. And if the Duke should love her enough
to offer to marry her!"

*Tou think that likely?"

*'What can resist love? Tell me that."

And her beautiful eyes, swimming with tears,
looked anxiously, trustingly into the young man's
face.

*'I tell you what I truly believe. And that is,
that Esperance loves the Duke."

The young painter meditated for a long time.

*'Come on, we must go back," he said finally.
"We must get ready for the rehearsal." He left the
girl with exhortations to reason with his cousin.

"What the deuce Is our will for if we can't exer-
cise it?"

"Maurice, I am brave and determined, you know
that. My sister and I have struggled unaided, she
since she was thirteen! I since I was eight. I
thought that she was enough to fill all my life, and

now . . ."

(C

'And now," he asked tenderly, taking her hand.

"All my life is yours ! I should not tell you this,
but you can judge by my doing so the impotence of
will against . . ."

She drew away her hand hastily, ran to the stair-
case and disappeared. He heard the door open and
his cousin's voice saying, "How pale you are, Gene-
vieve !"

"What are you dreaming about, Cousin Mau-

238 THE IDOL OF PARIS

rice?" said Albert, putting his hand gently on his
shoulder.

That hand felt to Maurice as heavy as remorse.

"Let us go and see what is going on," said the
young painter. "There is Jean coming to look for
us now."

CHAPTER XXIV

In the great hall of the Chateau a charming theatre
had been built. Everything was ready for the re-
hearsal. An enormous revolving platform held three
wooden squares which would serve as frames for the
tableaux vivants. The mechanism had been ar-
ranged by an eminent Parisian engineer. A curtain
decorated by Maurice served as background. There
were eleven little dressing rooms, seven for the wo-
men, four for the men.

Maurice saw the Duke seated straddlewise on a
chair, and smoking a cigarette. The three men went
up to him before he was aware of their presence. At
sound of Albert's voice he sprang to his feet, almost
as if expecting an attack. His nostrils were dilated,
his face set. In an instant he resumed his usual
manner, and shook hands with the young men.

"You were asleep?" suggested the Count.

*'No, I was dreaming, and I think you must have
figured in my dream."

"Let us hear of the dream."

"Oh ! no, dreams ought not to be told I"

And he pretended to busy himself with some or-
ders.

The guests who were to take part In the tableaux
vivants began slowly to stream In. Maurice took

239

240 THE IDOL OF PARIS

Jean aside and told him what had happened that
morning,

*'You must keep watch too. I am not going to
leave the Duke."

When Esperance and Genevieve came in, Maurice
caught the Duke's expression in a mirror. He saw
him move away and join a distant group where he
lingered, chatting. Jean thought Esperance looked
uneasy. Albert came up to her and kissed her hand.
She smiled sadly. She was looking for some one.
The Duke had disappeared before she had seen him.

After a long discussion it was decided to have a
dress rehearsal. Esperance was not in the first pic-
ture so she would have had ample time to have
dressed at leisure, but nevertheless she put her things
on quite feverishly. Her costume consisted only, it
is true, of a light peplum over a flesh-coloured foun-
dation. Genevieve helped her to dress. In each
dressing-room was one of Maurice's designs illustra-
ting just how the dress, hair, etc., were to be ar-
ranged. For Andromeda, Esperance was to have
bare feet, and wear on her hair a garland of flowers.

The three first tableaux revolved before the Duke
and his staff, composed of Albert, Jean, Maurice and
some of the distinguished guests; and the order was
given to summon the artists for the second set, which
was composed of the next three pictures.

The first tableaux of the second group represented
Circe with the companions of Ulysses changed into
swine. The marvellous Lady Rupper was to repre-

THE IDOL OF PARIS 241

sent Circe. She entered dramatically, half nude, her
tunic open to her waist, caught at intervals by dia-
mond clasps, her peplum held in place by a garland
of bay leaves. She was very beautiful. Her hus-
band, a wealthy American, laughed at sight of her,
a coarse laugh, the laugh of all Germans, even when
Americanized.

The second picture represented Judith and Holo-
fernes. The beautiful brunette, the Marquise de
Chaussey, in a daring costume designed by Maurice,
held in her hand a magnificent scimitar, the property
of Morlay-La-Branche. She was to pose, raising the
curtain, as in the picture of Regnault.

The third picture was the deliverance of Andro-
meda. When Esperance appeared, so slender, so
fragile, her long hair waving in floods of pale gold
almost to the floor, a murmur of almost sacred ad-
miration rang through the hall. Lady Rupper ap-
proached her, and taking the child's hair in her hands,
cried out, "Oh! my dear, it is more beautiful than
the American gold."

The Duke came up to Esperance.

*'I should have preferred enchaining you to de-
livering you, Mademoiselle."

*'I can speak now in the person of Andromeda and
thank you for that deliverance . . . which you pro-
mised," she answered with a little smile.

She had spoken so low that only the Duke could
hear the ending which he alone understood. He had
promised to deliver her from his love, but at that in-

242 THE IDOL OF PARIS

stant he revolted against the thought and the ad-
monition.

**Why not?" he muttered to himself. "She must
be happier with me than with that insufferable bore !
I will keep my word until she herself absolves me
from it."

They had to arrange her pose against the rock.
Maurice and Albert helped her, while the Duke
watched from a distance, and criticized the effect.
All at once he cried out, *'That is perfect. Don't
move. Now the mechanician must mark the place to
set the fetters for the hands and feet."

Maurice stepped back by the Duke to judge of the
effect.

*'It is excellent," he said, looking only, thinking
only as an artist. *'That child has a beauty of pro-
portion, a dazzling grace, and the most lovely face
imaginable."

As the Duke did not speak, Maurice looked at him.
He was standing upright, leaning against a table,
pale as death.

"Are you ill?" asked Maurice.

"No . . . no. . . ."

He passed his hand across his forehead and said
in an unnatural voice, "Will you see to it please, that
they do not leave her suspended that way too long?
Tell Albert to raise her head, it seems to me that
she IS going to faint."

He started forward.

"I will go," said Maurice, stopping him.

THE IDOL OF PARIS 243

When the machinist finished screwing the rings in
the rock Maurice asked whether it would not be bet-
ter to repeat this tableaux at once. The Duke ap-
proved. The terrifying dragon was properly ar-
ranged on the ground — the wonderful dragon which
was the design of a renowned sculptor and perfectly
executed by Gerard in papier mache. Perseus (the
Duke) with one foot on the head of the vanquished
monster, bent towards Andromeda. The breath of
her half-opened mouth was hot on his lips, and he
could hear the wild beating of her little heart. He
felt an Infinite tenderness steal over him, and when
a tear trembled on the young girl's eyelashes he for-
got everything, wiped the tear away tenderly with the
end of his finger and kissed it lovingly. Happily the
turning stage was almost out of sight and nobody ex-
cept Genevieve had caught sight of the incident.

Esperance breathed, "God, my God!"

The Duke raised the poor child, and said to her
very low, *'I love you, Esperance."

She murmured, "You must not . . . you must
not."

While he was loosing her chains he continued, "I
love you and I will do anything to win your love."

She strengthened herself desperately.

"You do not need to do anything for it, alas I"

And she fled.

When the Count came to find her, there was only
the Duke talking to the stage hands.

"Where Is Esperance?"

244 THE IDOL OF PARIS

''I have no idea," replied Charles de Morlay dryly.

Albert turned on his heel, delighted to see the
Duke out of humour.

Genevieve caught up with Andromeda who was
running away out of breath, seeing nothing, hearing
nothing. Genevieve saw her enter the grove leading
to the clearing and there she joined her.

"Esperance, my darling, my little sister, stop, I
beg you."

Her voice calmed the girl. She caught hold of one
of the branches and clung to it, gasping.

"Genevieve, Genevieve, why am I here?"

Her eyes shone with a wild light. She seemed to
be absolutely exalted.

*'He loves me, he loves me. . . ."

**And I love him." And she threw herself in her
friend's arms. *'I am as happy as you now, for I
love. . . . The thick cloud that hung over every-
thing is gone. Everything is bright and beautiful.
This dark grove is sparkling with sunlight and . . .?"

Genevieve stopped her.

"Little sister, you are raving. Your pulse is rac-
ing with fever. We must go back. Think of poor
Albert."

Esperance drew herself up proudly, replying, "I
will never betray him, I will tell the truth, and I
will become the wife of the Duke."

"You are talking wildly, dearest, the Duke will
not marry you."

"He will marry me, I swear it!"

THE IDOL OF PARIS 245

"Albert will enter the Chartist Monastery and the
Countess Styvens will die of sorrow."

"The Countess Styvens," said Esperance slowly.

As the sweet face of the mother came before her
mind's eye she began to tremble all over.

Maurice had followed the girls Into the grove, and
he found them now In each other's arms.

"Genevieve," said Esperance, "not a word of what
I have said!"

"Have you both gone crazy? They are looking
everywhere for Esperance for the 'Judgment of
Paris,' and here you are congratulating and kissing
each other!"

"Cousin, I needed the air, don't scold. Genevieve
looked for me and found me before anybody else,
and I kissed her because I love her most."

She spoke fast and laughed nervously.

"Who freed you from your chains?'*

"Perseus, it was his duty!"

"And now he is going to give you an apple."

"Then," she said very prettily, "I must try to
deserve It. Come help me to make myself beautiful."

She led Genevieve away by the hand.

Maurice remained rooted to the spot. Somehow
he guessed what sudden change had operated upon
his cousin's spirit. Something must have taken place
in the corridor between these two ! He murmured
sadly, "Poor Albert, poor little cousin!'*

The young Count appeared before him in his most
radiant humour.

246 THE IDOL OF PARIS

''I have just met Esperance," he said. "She was
joyous, brilliant, I have never before seen her so
happy!'*

Maurice gnawed his moustache, and moved rather
angrily.

"We should never have come here,'' he said, "suc-
cess has turned her head."

"She was born for success," said the Count. "I
often ask myself whether I have a right to accept the
sacrifice she is making for me."

"My dear friend, when things are well you should
leave them alone."

"When you love as I love, you desire above every-
thing the happiness of the one you love."

"Unless the one you love should prefer someone
else to you?"

"You are wrong, Maurice. I would sacrifice my-
self for Esperance's happiness if I knew she wanted
to marry another man."

Maurice shrugged his shoulders.

"We are not of the same race. Your blood runs
colder in your veins than mine, for mine boils. But,
perhaps you have a better understanding of these
things?"

And he left the Count to go and help the Duke
prepare the "Judgment of Paris."

Three young girls had been chosen for this tableau.
Mile, de Berneuve, a beautiful brunette (Hera) ;
Mile. Lebrun, with flaming hair (Athene) ; and Es-
perance, delicately blonde, was to represent Aphro-

THE IDOL OF PARIS 247

dite, to whom the shepherd Paris would award the
prize for beauty.

To personify Aphrodite t'he girl wore a long pink
tunic, with a peplum of the same colour heavily em-
broidered. Her hair was piled high on her head,
leaving the lovely nape of her neck half covered by
her draperies, her exquisitely delicate arms emerging
from a sleeveless tunic. To represent the shepherd
Paris, the Duke was wearing a short tunic embroid-
ered with agate beads to hold the stuff down, and a
sheep skin. A red cap was on his head. He was
magnificent to look upon.

The stage began to revolve. Paris held out his
apple to Aphrodite, who went crimson at his glance.
The girl's blushes did not escape the audience, where
the comments varied according to the person who
made them.

Maurice, Genevieve, and Jean understood what
Esperance read in Paris's eyes. A sad smile gave a
melancholy grace to the lovely Aphrodite. Both the
actors had forgotten that they were not alone. Hyp-
notized under the gaze of Paris, the young girl
made a gesture towards him. A sharp, "Don't
move" from the prompter brought her back to her-
self. She turned her head, saw the audience, with
the eyes and glasses of everyone focussed upon her.
It seemed to her that they must all know her secret.
She tottered; and supported herself upon Athene.
She must have fallen from the frame and been badly
hurt, if the Duke had not caught her just in time.

248 THE IDOL OF PARIS

A cry escaped from the audience. The Marquis
de Montagnac gave a sign to the stage hands to
stop revolving the stage.

Albert climbed up on the stage at once. He thrust
Paris quickly aside, picked up the girl and carried
her out on to the terrace. Maurice and Jean fol-
lowed him. She was not unconscious, but she could
not speak and she recognized no one. Genevieve
knelt beside her. At first delicacy — discretion — held
the spectators back, but curiosity soon drove them
forward. But the Duke did not appear. He had
seemingly vanished.

The Doctor of the Chateau was called from play-
ing croquet. He began by ordering the crowd away.
Esperance was stretched out on an easy chair on the
terrace. The Doctor looked at her for a moment,
amazed at her beauty, then sat beside her, feeling
her pulse. Genevieve described what had happened.
He listened attentively.

*'There is nothing serious,'' he said* "only a little
exhaustion and collapse. I will go and mix a sooth-
ing drink for her."

Esperance, still unconscious, was carried by her
fiance to her room, where Genevieve and Mile. Fra-
hender put her to bed. Albert went back to wait for
the Doctor. Maurice went in search of Charles de
Morlay. He met a forester, who told him that the
Duke had gone for a ride in the forest, and had sent
word to the Duchess that he might not be back to
lunch.

THE IDOL OF PARIS 249

Maurice returned, disturbed and thoughtful.
Genevieve was waiting for him with the news that
the Doctor had himself administered a sleeping
draught to Esperance which he said should make
her sleep at least five hours.

*'So much the better! That will give us a little
time to consider and to decide what is to be done.
The truth is that we ought to clear out this very
day! Love is a miscreant!"

"Not always, fortunately," murmured Genevieve.

*'You, Genevieve, have a balanced mind, calm,
just. If only my cousin had your equilibrium!"

"Oh ! Marcel, Marcel. . . ."

A tear ran down Genevieve's eyelashes. She
closed her eyes. He took the lovely head in his
hands and his lips rested on her pure forehead.
They remained so for one marvellous, never-to-be-
forgotten second.

When he left her Maurice met Albert Styvens.
They walked side by side towards the woods.

"I am very much alarmed," said the Count, "not
about Esperance's health, but about her state of
mind. I am a poor psychologist, but my love for
your cousin has sharpened my wits. It seems to me
that the Duke is trying to make Esperance love
him."

"Possibly; I had not noticed."

"Yes, Maurice, you have noticed and you have no
right to deny it. I want to ask your advice. The
Duke and I both love your cousin. One of us must

250 THE IDOL OF PARIS

lose. Just now I repulsed the Duke so rudely that
he could have demanded satisfaction, but I foresee
that he will let it pass. That attitude, so unusual
for his temperament, proves that he wants to avoid
scandal. Why? What is his object?"

"I don't know," said Maurice. "He has gone
riding in the forest, probably to calm his nerves with
solitude. He loves your fiance, but his honour
forces him to respect her."

"Perhaps," said Albert.

*'I think," said Maurice, "that we should all leave
this evening or to-morrow morning at the latest.
Esperance is not ill, only worn out. She is easily
exhausted."

"And if she loves the Duke?" pursued the Count.

"Then it is my place to ask you what you are going
to do about it?"

Albert was silent a minute, then raising his pale
face, answered slowly: "If she loves the Duke, I shall
have to ask him what are his intentions; and if, as I
believe, he wishes to marry her, I shall die a Char-
tist!"

The third gong vibrated, announcing lunch.

After lunch, Albert, Maurice, Jean, and Genevieve
settled themselves under a great oak, which was said
to have been planted by a delightful little Duchess of
Castel-Montjoie, who had been celebrated at Court
during the Regency. A marble table and a heavy
circular bench made this wild corner quite cosy, and
sheltered from the sun and from the curious. The

THE IDOL OF PARIS 251

tree was just opposite the tower where Esperance
was sleeping so deeply, and Mile. Frahender was to
give a signal from the window when she awoke.
Neither of them felt much inclined for conversation,
for their eyes were fixed on the window opposite.
About half-past four Mile. Frahender appeared, and
Genevieve hastened to the room.

Esperance was sitting up in bed, remembering
nothing.

"Albert, Maurice, and Jean are over there. Do
you wish to see them?"

The girl rose up quickly, wrapping a robe of
blue Japanese crepe embroidered in pink wistarias
about her, and tactly fastened up her hair.

*'Let them come, if you please, now."

The young men entered and stopped in amazement
at the change that had already taken place in her.
Instead of finding her a wreck they discovered her
pink, gay and laughing.

*'What happened to me?" she asked. "My little
Mademoiselle does not know, she was not well her-
self. There is my Aphrodite costume. What hap-
pened to me?"

"It was very simple," explained Maurice. "You
stayed too long with your head hanging down during
the rehearsal, and as you were tired it made you ill.
Albert brought you here and you have been asleep
for live hours. Now you are your charming self
again. We will leave you so that you can dress, and
then if you feel like it we will take you for a drive."

252 THE IDOL OF PARIS

"I will be very quick; in ten minutes I will be with
you."

The young people did not know what to think.
It would now be very difficult to suggest that Esper-
ance should withdraw from the fete, as apparently
every trace of her Indisposition had disappeared.
Then Albert spoke :

*'I am going to ask Esperance to give up appearing
at this performance as a favour to me," he said. "I
shall contribute largely to the charitable fund, and we
can go back to Penhouet."

He had hardly finished speaking when Esperance
came Into the little salon.

"Here I am you see and the ten minutes is not
yet up !"

A discreet tap at the door made them all turn
round. The Dowager Duchess appeared.

"Ah! my dear child, what a joy to see you so
restored."

"I must apologize, Madame, for the trouble I
gave you. It is all over, all over," she said, shaking
her pretty head; "and I am as well as possible."

"I am more than delighted," said the Duchess,
sitting down. "You have no Idea, my dear Albert,
of the perfect disaster Esperance's absence would
have caused. She is the star of our bill, as they say,
and on whom we all rely. You know that my son
wants to be elected Deputy, and this fete will secure
him the votes of the whole community. More than
fifteen hundred people have taken tickets. The local

THE IDOL OF PARIS 253

livery stable men count on making a fortune. All
the villagers are getting their rooms ready to let.
If that adorable child had failed us nothing could
have made it up to them, and my son would have been
ruined."

She rose up.

**But," she added, with the sweet smile that won
all hearts, *'you see me so happy, so reassured, that
you must all be joyful with me."

The young people led her to the foot of the stair.
The carriage was waiting to take them for their
drive.

The visit from the Amiable Duchess rather discon-
certed Albert, and Jean, and Maurice and Genevieve.
Everything seemed like the warring of an implacable
destiny. All four felt absolutely impotent.

The drive was stimulating. Esperance drew life
at every breath. They could watch the colour com-
ing back into her cheeks.

As the carriage came out Into a clearing, the Duke
Se Morlay rode wildly by. His horse was covered
with sweat and trembling so that he had some diffi-
culty in mastering it. The Duke inquired for Es-
perance's health and decided that it must be excel-
lent from her looks.

^'But, my dear Albert," he said, laughing, "you
almost knocked me over this morning, however, I do
not blame you, I would have done as much myself
in your place. However, I must be off, my horse
is fagged. I shall see you later."

254 THE IDOL OF PARIS

And he was gone.

*'How pale the Duke looked/' exclaimed Esper-
ance.

*'He Is fatigued, he has been riding since this
morning."

*'Did he not lunch with you, cousin?'*

*'No."

*'Why did he go away in such haste?"

"You are too curious."

Then, looking hard at her, ''Perhaps he thought
like the good Duchess, that your weakness was ser-
ious, and that all his little arrangements were going
to fall through."

"I understand that the Duchess cared, since the
election of her son is at stake, but the Duke, how
would it affect him?"

Albert, sitting opposite her in the carriage, looked
her full in the face.

"Perhaps he will never find another opportunity to
pay his court to you."

"Whew, that is straightforward bluntness for
you!" thought Maurice.

Esperance grew red. The recollection of what
had happened began to come back little by little.
She closed her eyes to be able to think more clearly.
Albert left her in her silence a minute, then he said,
"We had planned to carry you away to-day, but
you heard what the Duchess said just now. I feel
bound by the confidence of that old friend to remain.
My fate is in your pretty hands, be circumspect

THE IDOL OF PARIS 255

with the Duke — frank, and loyal with your fiance.'*

And he took her hands In a long kiss.

The coachman was told to turn around, for it was
getting late. The horses set off at a trot, and noth-
ing more was said between them about the Duke.

After dinner the Duke rose and announced, "The
fete will be the day after to-morrow. We have only
rehearsed once, and then not in full. I feel some-
what responsible for the exhaustion of our little star.
Her head hanging down was so beautiful that I
thought only of the pose, without realizing how pain-
ful it must have become to the artist. I ask Mile.
Darbois's pardon. Also, I should like another stage
director, and I propose M. Maurice Renaud, our
ingenious collaborator, to whom we owe our magnifi-
cent costumes and the originality of our decora-
tions."

Everyone applauded, and Maurice was proclaimed
director of the fete.

*'I thank you and accept," he said simply.

He thought, "That Is his way of getting rid of
me.

*'I hope, my dear Director," continued the Duke,
**that you will make us rehearse hard to-morrow. If
anything goes wrong we shall still have the morning
of the day after, for the fete does not begin until
half-past two."

Maurice rose and In a comical tone announced,
"Ladies and gentlemen, artists, I beg you to be
prompt for a rehearsal of the tableaux vivants to-

256 THE IDOL OF PARIS

morrow at ten o'clock. Any artist who is late will
pay a fine of a hundred francs to the poor of the
Duchess."

And as they laughingly protested, *'There Is a
quarter of an hour of grace accorded as in the
theatres, but not one Instant more. My stage-mana-
ger Is empowered to collect the fines."

They followed the action of the Duchess and rose
from their seats. The Duke went over to Maurice.

*'I would like to talk over some of the details to-
gether. They must Interest us, but they mean noth-
ing to the others. A cigarette?"

They strolled to the end of the terrace. A pretty
Chinese umbrella sheltered a delightful nook. The
Duke and Maurice dropped into easy chairs.

"Will you give me your word that what I am go-
ing to say to you will be for you alone ; that you will
not repeat it?"

The young man refused, "How can I give my
word without even knowing the subject of your con-
fidences?"

"It concerns your cousin."
'Then It concerns Count Styvens."
'Indirectly, yes."

Maurice got up.

"I would rather not listen to you, for my duty as
a man of honour would compel me to speak, should
it be necessary."

The Duke sat still and reflected for a minute.

"Very well, you shall judge when you have heard

THE IDOL OF PARIS 257

me, what you think you had better do. I leave yow
free. I love your cousin Esperance: she is the
fiance of Count Albert, but she is not in love with:
him.''

Maurice had thrown away his cigarette and lean-
ing forward, his hands clasped, his eyes on the
ground, listened gently.

*'I have paid in a way attentions for a year; I
admit it was wrong for I had no definite intentions.
A visit to Penhouet, however, completely changed
my opinion of this little maiden. The atmosphere of
beauty, of calm in which she lived, the liking and
respect I felt for M. and Madame Darbois, and the
free play of intelligence and taste I there discovered,
made a deep impression on me and I could not for-
get. The ordinary life of society, so artificial, so de-
void of real interest, this life that eats up hours and
weeks and months in futilities, in nothings that come
to nothing, all this became suddenly quite burden-
some to me. I continuously thought of the adorable
child I had seen at Penhouet, brighter than all else
in that radiant place. I was travelling, and did not
learn of the accident to your cousin and Count Sty-
vens until I returned to Paris. Then I wrote for
news.

*'I came back here to my old aunt's, my nearest
relative. I wanted to ask her to invite the whole
of the Darbois family to spend a month here at
Montjoie. A letter from Count Albert, announcing
his engagement to Esperance, was a terrible blow to

258 THE IDOL OF PARIS

me. I conceived the detestable Idea of revenging
myself on Albert, but every scheme went against me.
I have been beaten without ever having fought."
Then he paused.

"Since you have done me the honour to make me
your confidant, permit me to say that the little am-
bush you laid for Esperance this morning . . .'*

The Duke interrupted, "That ambush was a vul-
gar trick, theatrical and cheap. I spare you the
trouble of having to tell me so. I was about to dis-
close myself to the young ladies when I heard your
cousin speak my name. Then I kept still, hoping
to learn something. What man could have resisted?
I heard these words spoken to Mile. Hardouin, 'Yes,
the presence of the Duke of Morlay disturbs me; I
do not know if that is love, but I do know that I do
not love Albert.' They went on towards the clear-
ing; I was compelled to leave my hiding place. You
know the rest. The cry the child gave, and her look
of reproach unmanned me. I understood at that mo-
ment that I loved in deadly earnest; that my inten-
tion of avenging myself on Albert was nothing but
a vain manifestation of pride, that the ambush was a
cowardly concession to my reputation as a — well, de-
ceiver of women. You know what I mean."

He shrugged his shoulders scornfully.

"The man I was trying to be has left the man I
am, and now, Renaud, here is what I want you to
know. Esperance Darbols loves me, I was convinced
x)f that at the rehearsal. I love her ardently In re-

THE IDOL OF PARIS 259

turn. She will not be happy with Albert, and I want
to marry her. I will employ no 'illicit means,' as the
lawyers say. On other scores I shall feel no remorse
to have broken your cousin's engagement. My for-
tune is twice Albert's; he is a Count, I a Duke, and
what is more, a Frenchman."

Maurice stood up nervously.

*'You are a very gallant man, Duke, and my sym-
pathy was yours from your first visit to Penhouet,
but I am greatly distressed that you should have
made me your confidant, for I must in honour bound
support Albert."

*'I do not see why ! It seems to me that the hap-
piness of your cousin might count before any friend-
ship for Albert Styvens."

*'But where Is her real happiness, I might say her
lasting happiness?"

The moon had risen radiantly pure. From their
elevation on the terrace, they could overlook all the
garden and park sloping gently to the lake. In a
boat two young girls were rowing. They were alone.

"You leave me free to act?'*

"Absolutely."

"Till to-morrow," said Maurice, pressing his
hand.

The Duke remained alone on the terrace. He saw
the young man go rapidly towards the lake. He
heard him hall the girls and saw him climb into the
boat with them, then disappear after he had waved
with Genevieve's handkerchief a signal of adieu.

CHAPTER XXV

When Maurice and Esperance and Genevieve
landed, the Duke was still pacing up and down on
the terrace. Maurice had jumped lightly on to the
shore, and had helped the young girls out, and having
taken them to the Chateau, rejoined the Duke who
was waiting for him.

*'You are right. Esperance loves you. My uncle
comes to-morrow evening. He Is a man of such up-
rightness that he will find, no doubt, the best solution
of this most complicated situation. Only I beg you
to spare Albert.'*

The Duke replied Instantly, "I will make every ef-
fort to be generous; but this morning he thrust me
away from your cousin in a deliberate attempt to
insult me. I pretended to blame it on his anxiety,
but I may not be able to control myself again, if he
drives me so far."

"Alas ! I am afraid that you are both of you at
the mercy of the first thing that happens. For the
love of God, keep cool. And don't forget to come
to-morrow at ten for the rehearsal.'*

And they parted.

Maurice did not sleep a wink. Esperance and
Genevieve went to bed very late, after talking for a

long time of the future.

260

THE IDOL OF PARIS 261

"Poor Albert," murmured the little star still as
she closed her eyes in the very moment of gliding into
the unreal life of dreams.

Mile. Frahender had some difficulty next morning
in waking the two young girls. Another maid waited
on them, for the Duke had sent his goddaughter back
to her family.

*'Let us all three take our chocolate together on
this little table. The sun is so gentle this morning,
to-day ought to have a beautiful life ahead of it.
My parents come at six and we must go to meet
them."

She chattered on all through the breakfast, and
kissed Genevieve in overflowing happiness.

"I love to see you so, Esperance," said the old
Mademoiselle. You have scarcely seemed yourself
lately, even at Penhouet. Now you are truly your-
self, you are radiant with your seventeen years. It
is a pleasure to look at you and to listen to you."

When the two girls came into the hall the Director,
Maurice Renaud, the Marquis Assistant, and the
stage-manager, Louis de Marset, were the only
others who had arrived. The manufacturer of the
paper models was arranging the rock, the dragon,,
and the headless horse in the middle of the room.
He held a brush red with dragon's blood, gave it
a touch, and recoiled to admire the effect; then tak-
ing the sea weed he had had gathered from real
rocks, began placing it in little bunches on his paste-
board rock.

262 THE IDOL OF PARIS

*'In regard to the half white horse, a magnificent
cardboard mount," said Maurice, flatteringly, "we
shall not use it. Another tableau has been substi-
tuted for that one."

The Assistant came up to Maurice. "Can you tell
me, sir, why they will not give the *Europa and the
Bull' ?"

"Because Mile. Darbois has been far from well,
and the Duchess has requested that she shall not ap-
pear in more than two tableaux. She is to play a
very difficult duet, as well, you know, and after-
wards she will have to talk to all the people who
crowd around her to buy flowers."

Jean was charged with excluding all those who
were not in the tableaux. Albert was included in
those not admitted, and he certainly would have
held it against the Duke, had he still been Director;
but Jean explained to him that Maurice had taken
this means of making the rehearsal go more quickly.
Genevieve, who was also excluded, kept the Count
company, and tried to distract him; but he was in a
very despondent humour. When he saw the Duke
arrive so late, he said, somewhat crossly, "He is
delaying the rehearsal."

"Oh! no," said Genevieve, "he does not come on
until the second group, and there is no need for him
to appear in costume."

When Andromeda was extended upon her rock
the Duke took his position. They were alone in
their wooden frame.

THE IDOL OF PARIS 263

*'Won't you trust yourself to me?" he breathed.
*'I love you with all my soul."

"My life is yours," she replied.

The scene had turned very quickly, the curtain
had fallen. Maurice came up and helped the Duke
to unfasten the girl. She was radiant. He was
transformed. Maurice guessed that they had spoken
together, but he asked nothing.

The second tableau was given immediately. Paris
was not in costume. He held the apple to the glori-
ous Aphrodite, the picture turned, the rehearsal was
over for Esperance. The Duke still had to take part
in two other scenes.

When Esperance was dressed she followed Mau-
rice's advice to go join Genevieve and Albert.

"What a relief," he exclaimed at sight of her, "I
began to think it would never be over."

"Yet we did not lose any time."

"Oh, no! but now it will go more slowly. The
Countess de Morgueil will have to make several rep-
etitions of her tableau of the enchantress Melusina."

It was the little de Marset who had spoken. Es-
perance started. For a long time it had been rum-
oured that the very pretty Countess de Morgueil,
widowed two years ago, was violently infatuated with
the Duke de Morlay, who was said not to be indif-
ferent to her affection.

Afraid apparently that his meaning had not been
plain, Marset insisted, "She is always circling about
the Duke."

264 THE IDOL OF PARIS

^'But does he care for her?'* asked a young wo-
man with a hard face, who was just going to give
herself a dose of morphine, and who was never seen
without a cigarette between her lips.

"Who knows?" queried Marset, with a knowing
air.

Esperance had grown very pale. Albert was
controlling himself with difficulty. He observed
Genevieve's constraint, and the trouble of his
fiance.

*'Shall we walk a little?"

They walked towards the woods and Maurice, m
some excitement, soon joined them. He was greatly
troubled, and longed to be able to tell Albert how
things were going. He was very fond of this fine
fellow, and at the same time felt great sympathy for
the Duke. He understood perfectly well why Es-
perance should prefer him to the Count, but at the
same time he blamed her a little for causing so many
complications. When he saw her so fresh and charm-
ing beside Albert, he grew more disturbed. Gene-
vieve quietly drew him aside.

"You are getting excited, Maurice, and I see
clearly that you are blaming Esperance, but let me
tell you, dear love, that you are unjust. At this mo-
ment Esperance is walking in a dream. Nothing
real exists for her. For three months she has suf-
fered very much, struggled very much, and felt so
much. Events have come very quickly. She finds
herself all of a sudden at the fount of the realization

THE IDOL OF PARIS 265

of all her fondest hopes; to be loved by the one she
loves! ... Be patient, Maurice, she is so young
and so sensitive. . . .''

"Your heart, dearest Genevieve, is an admirable
accountant. It adds the reasons, multiplies the ex-
cuses, subtracts the errors, and divides the respon-
sibility. You are adorable and I love you with all
my heart. Come with me, it is time for the concert.
You go on immediately after Delaunay. The Duch-
ess Is unable to contain herself at the idea of hear-
ing you recite her poem."

The Duke passed by, accompanied by the pretty
Countess de Morgueil, at whose conversation he was
smiling politely and replying vaguely. He seemed
not to have seen the fiances. Like Esperance, he was
living in a world of dreams, happy in a realm where
there was neither impatience nor jealousy. He knew
that he was loved.

After lunch Esperance said that she was going to
rest, so as to be fresh for next day. Her father
and mother were to come on the Princess's little
yacht. She and Mile. Frahender were to go alone to
meet them. That gave her several hours of solitude
to think of him, only of him.

Maurice repeated his last orders for the engross-
ing fete, against which he railed ceaselessly, in spite
of Genevieve's constant efforts to calm him.

**0h! of course, it is perfectly evident that I am
unreasonable, I know it; but If I break my leg slip-
ping on an orange peel, you would not prevent me

266 THE IDOL OF PARIS

from swearing at the person who had peeled the
fruit there, would you?'*

Genevieve laughed In spite of herself. *'Be a good
boy, tell your uncle everything as soon as he comes;
but say nothing against Esperance, for that would
not be right."

Her lovely face was very sad. Maurice looked
at her with a world of tenderness, "My darling, for-
give me ; the truth Is that I am so worried. Albert's
face is hard and set. He knows nothing, cannot
know anything, but he Is gifted with the Intuition
that simple souls often possess. I am very uneasy,
I can tell you. Say nothing to Esperance. Come
now, let us stroll Into this thicket and talk just by
ourselves for awhile."

They entered the thicket, holding each other close,
in silence. When they came to the clearing they
stopped short. The Duke was there, stretched out
upon the bench, smoking, dreaming.

He got up, surprised, and apologized.

"I had just come back here to live over an unfor-
gettable moment."

"This corner must be the rendezvous for the slaves
of the little god," said Maurice, bowing to the statu-
ette of Love Enchained. "We will leave you."

"No," said the Duke quickly, "Please stay. Your
happiness shows me the vision of which I dreamed.
Art is the inspiration of the beautiful, and I believe
that artists have a more delicate sense of love than
other people."

THE IDOL OF PARIS 267

*'I believe, in truth," said Maurice, "that artists
move In a much larger world than that which is in-
habited by either the bourgeoisie or the aristocracy."

They talked for a long time, and returned to the
Chateau together.

Albert was beneath the green oak, talking to the
Dowager Duchess, who was telling him how much
she admired Genevieve. She had repeated her poem
so wonderfully to her alone that morning! They did
not see the trio emerge from the thicket, and Mau-
rice was glad of it. He felt more and more con-
strained. The complicity against the poor fellow's
happiness seemed to him a form of treason. He
looked at his watch. It was only five o'clock.

"That is impossible. This watch must have
stopped."

The Duke went to his room. His man gave him
an elegant little note, and as his master threw it
down on the table, "They await an answer."

"Very well, I will send one."

The servant withdrew. On the stair he met an
English maid waiting the answer.

"Monsieur will send an answer."

"The Countess will be displeased. These French
gentlemen are more gallant but less polite than our
English lords. She is as much In love as Love It-
self."

"He also Is In love."

"Then It ought to be easy enough, for Madame
is a widow,"

268 THE IDOL OF PARIS

*'But It IS not your mistress that he loves/'

**Ah! who then?''

**Ah ! nothing for nothing." And he held out his
hands.

"Ah! shocking!"

''Very well," and he started, as if to return to his
master.

She stopped him.

"Monsieur Gustave, you know very well that I am
promised."

"Nothing for nothing."

Again he held out his hands. She hesitated a
moment, looking up and down, and then let him have
her finger tips. With a brutal gesture he caught
her to him and kissed her furiously. The little Eng-
lish maid, blushing and rumpled, drew back and an-
nounced coldly, "You French are brutes. Now, the
Information I paid for In advance."

"Very well. He Is In love with little Esperance
Darbois."

"The actress? But she Is engaged to Count Sty-
vens."

"It Is the truth I have told you," replied the valet,
proud of his own importance, "and If you will meet
me In the grove, during dinner, I will tell you some
more."

"Thanks, I know enough now," said the maid
dryly, leaving him.

She disappeared, but Gustave preened himself,
certain of success. As he went downstairs he saw

THE IDOL OF PARIS 269

Count Albert, helping the old Mademoiselle and her
charge into the carriage. Instinctively, he looked up
to see his master's silhouette at the window. Albert
was asking to be allowed to go with them, but Es-
perance had promised herself a quiet and restful
drive.

*'No, Albert, we shall be four with my father and
mother, and this Is a small carriage."

"But I will sit with the coachman."

**Look," said the young girl, laughing, "at the
size of the seat, and remember that there will be two
large bags and a hat box, a very big hat box, to hold
a hat for mama, one for Genevieve, and one for me."

Albert sighed sadly and closed the carriage door,
after he had kissed his fiance's hand. As the carriage
drove away he went up to the room his mother was
to occupy when she arrived next day, and looked to
see If all was ready.

He took a book and tried to read, but after a
couple of minutes he threw It aside and went out of
doors again. He stopped a moment on the terrace,
considering where to go. A young lady stopped
him as he was preparing to go down the steps.

"All alone. Count, and dreaming! Ah! you are
thinking of her. Come, let us stroll along together."

And the young Countess de Morgueil took his
arm before he had time to answer.

"You were not at the rehearsal this morning.
You know that they have given up the tableaux of
*Europa.' Did you insist upon it?"

270 THE IDOL OF PARIS

"No, why should I have made myself so ridicu-
lous?"

"But the Duke pretended . . .'*

"Dear Madame, the Duke could not have pre-
tended anything except that he did not wish to appear
without any clothes on, a decision that I heartily ap-
proved of."

"They say that he tries to fascinate every woman
he meets. What do you think?"

"And what do you?" said the Count, looking her
straight in the eye.

"Oh ! he would never cause me great palpitation,"
she returned meaningly.

"Are you making any allusion to Mile. Darbois?"
he asked, stopping abruptly.

"I am engaged to Mile. Darbois, I believe you
know, Madame. You are piqued because you love
the Duke de Morlay and he seems to be deserting
you to hover near my fiancee. Do as I do ; have a lit-
tle patience; to-morrow by this time the fete will be
over and I shall have left with Mile. Darbois. Don't
be either too nervous or too malicious, it does not
agree with your type of beauty. I kiss your hands."

He went towards the Chateau, and took up his
vigil in the little salon adjoining Esperance's room.

The Countess of Morgueil was confused and mor-
tified. "He Is not so stupid as he looks," she
thought.

Albert was reading, but listening all the time.
Finally a carriage stopped before the Chateau. He

THE IDOL OF PARIS 271

went down quickly and caught Esperance in his arms
so tightly that the young girl gave a little scream.

''Oh ! pardon, pardon. It is so long since I have
seen you."

He kissed Mme. Darbois's hand and almost
crushed the professor's fingers in his nervous grasp.
He asked anxiously concerning Penhouet, and ex-
pressed his desire to return there immediately. Mau-
rice and Genevieve came running up.

"How happy every one looks here," said Mme.
Darbois.

"Don't believe It, my dear aunt; we are standing
on a volcano."

"Ah! the cares of the fete weigh upon you. It
always seems as If everything were going wrong at
the last moment."

She laughed, proud of her penetrations. Gene-
vieve tugged at Maurice's vest as he was about to
set the dear lady right.

"Ah! well, I leave you to dress. This evening,
uncle, I want to have a chat with you as I have
something serious to say to you."

The philosopher and his wife looked at each other
understandingly.

"Very well, my boy, I shall be entirely at your dis-
posal for as long as you like, for I can guess . . ,"

And he looked at Genevieve. Maurice despaired
of ever making him understand.

CHAPTER XXVI

Everyone greeted the philosopher with delight when
he appeared In the ante-chamber where the guests
were assembled before dinner. The Duke came to
present his greetings to Mme. Darbols and stayed
talking to her for some time. He saw that she liked
him, but foresaw at the same time that it would be
very painful for the good woman to have to accept
another son-in-law. During dinner the Duchess
steered the conversation towards philosophy, wishing
to please Francois, who was placed on her right — art
and science being to her the highest titles of nobility.

"Ah! I am no philosopher," protested the Mar-
quis de Montagnac. *'I accept old age only as a
chastisement, and not having committed any criminal
act, I revolt against the injustice of it."

And Louis de Marset, bending towards his neigh-
bour, who had had a great reputation for beauty
before age and Illness had pulled her down, re-
marked, "One cannot be and have been, is not that
true, Madame?"

"You are mistaken, my dear sir. There are some
poor people who are born fools and never change."

A smile of delight appeared on every face.

The Duke found himself in an argument with Lord

Glerey, a phlegmatic Englishman, whose marital

2-72

THE IDOL OF PARIS 273

misfortunes had made both London and Paris laugh.

*'You seem," said the Duke, "to confuse indiffer-
ence with philosophy.'*

"I do not confuse them, my dear sir. My appar-
ent indifference is simply scorn for the sarcasms, the
cruelty of the people of society who are always ready
to rejoice when anyone attacks the honour or love
of another."

The Duke murmured slowly, "Certainly what they
call 'the world' deserves scorn. And all the same,
taken separately, every individual of this collectivity
is a man or woman like any other, a suffering being,
who laughs just the same, like an eternal Figaro, for
fear of being compelled to weep.'*

Count Albert was talking to an old sceptic.

*'But," the Countess de Morgueil addressed him
suddenly, "what would you do, if on the eve of at-
taining the longed-for happiness, you found yourself
suddenly confronted by an insurmountable obstacle."

"Everything would depend on the quality of the
happiness in prospect, Madame. Some happiness is
easily abandoned, and some happiness is to be strug-
gled for until death itself."

Maurice had guessed the point of this sudden at-
tack. He was none the less surprised by Albert's
answer.

"Decidedly, it is going to be even more difficult
than I feared," he thought.

Indeed, Count Albert had evidently assumed a
change of attitude. Love and jealousy had trans-

274 THE IDOL OF PARIS

formed this simple and generous heart Into a being
of metal; he had not lost any of his goodness, but he
had put his soul In a state of defence and prepared
himself for the struggle. He did not know anything,
but his presentiments filled him with anguish. He
was not unaware that his austerity provoked Irony,
but now It seemed to him that the Irony was taking
a form of pity which enraged him.

Dinner was over, the great hall filled with groups
gathered together as their tastes dictated. Bridge
and poker tables were produced, and some of the
young people gathered about a table where liqueurs
were being served. Maurice took his uncle by the
arm and led him away.

*'Let us go to your room, for no one must hear
what I have to say to you."

*'Not even your aunt?"

*'No, uncle, not even aunt."

Frangols was astonished, for he had supposed that
It was of his own future that Maurice wished to
speak. They went towards the Tower of Saint Gene-
vieve.

*'Uncle, what I have to say to you is very grave."

*'What a lot of preamble ! Well, I am listening."

*'The Duke de Morlay-La-Branche loves Esper-
ance passionately."

"Well, that Is a pity for the Duke, but he will con-
sole himself easily enough."

Maurice was silent before he continued, "Esper-
ance Is madly in love with the Duke !"

THE IDOL OF PARIS 275

Frangols started violently.

*'You are raving, Maurice; she is engaged to Count
Styvens and has no right to forget him."

''She has never been in love with the Count, and
can hardly endure him since she has foreseen another
future."

"What future?"

"The Duke wants to marry Esperance."

"But it is impossible, impossible," said the philos-
opher violently. "A word that has been given can-
not be taken back so lightly."

"Calm yourself, uncle, if you please. For three
days I have been wandering about in this untenable
situation. We must make a decision. Every instant
I fear an outbreak either from Albert or from the
Duke."

"How have Esperance and the Duke contrived to
see each other?"

"I will tell you all that, uncle, later, but the how
and the why are not very important at this moment.
I want you to send for Albert. Esperance does not
wish to marry him. She has loved the Duke a long
time, but did not know that he loved her, and did
not suppose an alliance possible between our families,
even though you have made the name illustrious.
For that matter I should never have supposed myself
that the Duke would consent to make what would
generally be considered a mesalliance."

"It all seems unbelievable," murmured Fran-
cois.

276 THE IDOL OF PARIS

And with his head In his hands he groaned despair-
ingly, "How can we sacrifice that noble and unfor-
tunate Albert?"

*'One of the three must suffer, uncle. It would be
a crime to sacrifice Esperance who has the right to
love whom she pleases and to choose her own life.
.The Duke Morlay is loved, Count Albert Is not and
never has been. He knows It as you know It now.
Esperance consented to marry him through gratitude
to you."

*'Ah ! I feared as much," said the professor pros-
trated.

Frangois Darbols remained a long time In thought,
then he got up, his face lined with sadness.

"Tell your cousin to come to me, I will wait for
her here."

"I will send her to you at once. Forgive me for
having so distressed you, dear uncle."

"It was your duty!"

Frangols pressed his hand affectionately. Left
alone he felt despairing. The futility of the pre-
cautions he had taken, the Inanity of all reasoning,
of all logic, plunged him Into the scepticism he had
been combating for so many years.

Maurice found his cousin talking to Albert, the
Marquis of Montagnac, and Genevieve.

"Your father is feeling a little Indisposed and is
going to bed. Would not you like to say good-night
to him?"

Esperance rose Immediately. Albert wanted to go

THE IDOL OF PARIS 277

with her, but Maurice held him back, and began
asking under what conditions he proposed to play the
duet with Esperance next day.

"It is all one to me," replied the Count wearily.
"I am in a hurry to get away from here. I find
myself too much disturbed by my nerves, and you
know, cousin, how unusual it is for me to be ner-
vous."

At this term of family familiarity, Maurice shiv-
ered. He thought of the interview now taking place
in his uncle's room. Genevieve joined them and
they strolled up and down, but Albert made them
return continually near the tower.

When Esperance opened the door of the little sa-
lon where her father was waiting, she saw him In
such an attitude of distress that she threw herself at
his knees.

"Father, darling father, I ask your pardon. I am
ruining your life just as you begin to reap the harvest
for so many noble efforts. You have been so good
to me," she sobbed, "and I must seem to you so un-
grateful. Do not suffer so, I beg you. Take me
away with you, let us go and I will do my best to
forget; let us go!"

"But," said the professor, hesitatingly, "Albert
would follow."

The girl rose.

"Oh ! no, not that. I wish I could marry Albert
without loving him ; I have tried, but I cannot go on*
to the end, I cannot I"

278 THE IDOL OF PARIS

"You really love the Duke?"

^'Father, for a whole year I have struggled against
that love."

"Why have you never told me?"

"Because I saw nothing in the Duke's attentions
except the agitation they caused me; and I was too
ashamed to speak of it to you. I thought, consider-
ing the position of the Duke, that I was an aspiring
fool. He overheard me talking to Genevieve.
When he appeared before us, I so little expected to
see him there at such an hour — six o'clock in the
morning, in the grove — that my heart could not bear
the shock, and I fainted. From that instant I un-
derstood how much I loved him. I had no idea be-
fore of the power of love, but now I feel it the mas-
ter of my life. I will sacrifice that to your will,
father; but I will not sacrifice the immense happiness
of loving. Even if the Duke did not love me, I
should still be uplifted by my own love."

She sat down beside her father.

"Who knows what unhappiness may not be lurk-
ing for me, ready to spring at any moment?"

She drew near him shivering.

Francois took her charming head in his hands.
He looked at her tenderly, but with an expression
almost of terror in his face.

"Alas! all happiness built upon the unhappiness
of others always risks disillusionment — and col-
lapse."

"Dear father, my life has been bathed in such sun-

THE IDOL OF PARIS '279

light for the last three days, that I shall keep that
glow of warmth for the rest of my life."

"I only ask you, little daughter, to do nothing, to
say nothing, before the end of this fete. We have
no right, however grave our personal troubles and
responsibilities are, to betray the hospitality of the
Duchess. To-morrow, after the fete, I will talk to
Albert. Go, my darling, go back to that poor boy.
I hate to send you to practice a dissimulation that I
abhor, but we are in a situation of such delicacy and
difficulty. . . . God keep you !"

He kissed her tenderly. She went back to her
fiance, to find to her surprise that the Countess de
Morgueil had just passed by with him. Maurice
pointed them out where they were walking slowly in
the distance.

*'0h ! so much the better," said Esperance. *'That
gives me an excuse to go to my room."

Maurice urged her to wait. "I am convinced that
that woman is meddling in our affairs. It is plain
enough that we have upset her."

*'How? What do you mean, cousin?"

*'Did you not know that the Countess is madly in
love with the Duke, and that she had hoped to marry
him this winter?"

*Toor woman," sighed Esperance, sincerely.

The Duke came by, and seeing them alone, he
joined them.

*'The three of you alone?" he cried. "Then
you will allow me to join you for a moment?"

28o THE IDOL OF PARIS

*'Look," said Maurice, indicating Albert and the
Countess de Morgueil.

*'There is a dangerous woman who is making mis-
chief at this moment! . . . And, nevertheless, I owe
her the happiness this moment brings me."

*'My father," said Esperance, "has been as indul-
gent to me as always."

"Thanks for these tidings," said the Duke. "Do
you think he will receive me to-morrow, if I go to
him?"

"Oh! certainly, after the fete; a little while after,
for first he wished to speak to Count Styvens," she
said timidly.

"Will you," the Duke asked Maurice, "make an
appointment for me, and tell me as soon as you have
an answer?"

"With pleasure."

The Duke bowed to the girls and withdrew. He
took Maurice's hand, "I am happy, my friend, every-
thing is going as I wish. I seem to hear laughter
coming out of the shadows."

And he disappeared.

The young people waited for Albert a little while
longer, but as he did not appear, Maurice advised
the girls to retire, and he returned to sit down anx-
iously under the oak.

He had been there hardly a quarter of an hour
when he saw the Countess de Morgueil go by. She
was alone and walked nervously. On the doorstep
she stopped and looked back into the distance. He

THE IDOL OF PARIS 281

saw her tremble, then go in quickly. He stood up on
his bench to see what she had been looking at, but
he almost fell, and had to steady himself by hold-
ing on to a branch. Albert and the Duke were to-
gether. Albert had put his hand on the Duke's
shoulder, and the Duke had removed that great
hand. They were walking side by side towards the
extensive terrace that commanded the countryside.

*'0h ! the wretched woman ! What can she have
said? And to be able to do nothing, nothing," he
thought.

He lighted a cigarette, waiting, he did not know
for what. But he could not go back to his room.

As he put his hand on the Duke's shoulder Al-
bert had said, *'I wish to talk to you."

'Very well. I am listening."

'I want you to answer me with perfect truth."

"Your request would be offensive, Albert, if it
were not for your emotion."

**Is it true that you love Esperance Darbois?"

*'It is true."

*'Is it true that you want to marry her?"

"It is true."

"My God I My God!" muttered Albert, and he
stopped for a minute. He was choking. The Duke
felt a profound pity for this man who was suffering
at this moment the most terrible pain.

"Do you believe that she loves you?" Albert still
went on.

"I have answered you with perfect frankness con-

282 THE IDOL OF PARIS

cerning myself, but do not ask me to answer for Mile.
Darbois."

"Yes; you are right, you cannot answer for her.
I know that she does not love me, but I hope to make
her love me. I wanted to make her so happy! . . .
That love has made a different man of me. What I
regarded yesterday as a crime seems to me now the
will of destiny. One of us two must disappear. If
you kill me, I know her soul, she will not marry you;
she would die rather. If I kill you, the tender com-
passion she feels for me will be changed into hatred.
What I am doing now is a brutal act, an animal act,
but I cannot do otherwise ! My religious education
had restrained my passions ! At least I thought so,"
he said, passing his great hand across his stubborn
forehead. "But no ! My youth denied of love takes
a terrible revenge upon me now, and I have to exert
a horrible effort now not to strangle you."

The Duke had not stirred.

"I am at your orders, Albert; only I think you will
have to arm yourself with patience for several hours
longer. This fete, given by the Duchess, cannot be
prevented by our quarrel. I suggest that you post-
pone our meeting until to-morrow evening. Our
witnesses can meet if you like at one o'clock at the
little Inn of the 'Three Roads.' It Is only ten min-
utes' distance from here. The innkeeper is loyal to
me, I am his daughter's godfather. The garden is
cut by a long alley which can serve as the field of
honour. I will go at once to warn De Montagnac

THE IDOL OF PARIS 283

and his brother; then I will go to the *Three
Roads; "

"Good,'^ said Albert.

"Naturally, we leave Maurice Renaud out of our
quarrel."

''Certainly,'^ said Charles de Morlay, bowing.

They parted. From a distance the young painter
saw the Duke enter the great hall. Several minutes
later Albert's tall form barred the horizon for a
moment. He looked at the Tower of Saint Gene-
vieve, then he also entered the hall. Then Maurice
decided to go in himself. He sat down by a little
table littered with magazines and periodicals, and
picked up one, without ceasing for an Instant to watch
the two men. The Duke de Morlay was standing be-
hind the Marquis, who was still at the whist table.
Albert Styvens had sat down beside a diplomat from
Italy, Cesar Gabrlelli, a serious young man, a clever
diplomat, and a renowned fencer. When Montagnac
finished his hand, the Duke offered him a cigar.

"Will you help me with some arrangements for
the performance to-morrow?"

He was about to refuse, but the Duke said briefly,
"It Is Important, come !"

The two of them went out, only lingering a little
on the way for a joke with the men and a compliment
to the ladles. Then Maurice watched the diplomat,
who rose at the same time, and Invited Albert to
admire the moon from the terrace. Maurice saw
them disappearing towards the corner by the Chinese

284 THE IDOL OF PARIS

umbrella. That was the end of the terrace, and was
out of sight from all the windows.

"It is all plain enough," thought the young man,
**but when, where?"

He understood that neither of the two adversaries
could take him either for confidant or for second.

"However," he said, as he went to his room, "I
want to know. I must know. I will know."

CHAPTER XXVII

The next day, the day of the fete, all the Chateau,
from early In the morning, was in a violent tumult.
Maurice, the Marquis Assistant, and Jean Perliez
were busy to the point of distraction; fortunately for
Maurice, who had been unable to sleep and had called
Jean at six to share the secret which had not been
confided to him. He could not think of telling Gene-
vieve, and Jean should be able to help keep watch.

"You try," he directed, "to watch Montagnac; I
shall not leave the diplomat."

The Duke came in search of Maurice to ask for
Esperance. He looked a little pale but showed much
interest in the fete.

"Our dear Duchess must be rewarded for all the
excitement we have caused her house."

"There is no reason to suppose," said Maurice,
"that all the excitement will cease after the fete !"

The Duke would not show that he had understood.
Maurice went to smoke a cigarette in the garden and
was hardly surprised to see the doctor, who had been
attached to the service of the Duchess for twenty
years, and attended all the guests In the Chateau,
talking animatedly with the diplomat. The doctor
raised his arms in a horrified gesture, letting them
fall again tragically. He gave every evidence of a

285

286 THE IDOL OF PARIS

violent struggle with himself. The diplomat re-
mained calm, determined, and even authoritative.
The poor doctor finally yielded. The diplomat
shook his hand and left him.

The doctor with an expression of great distress,
walking feebly, passed by Maurice, who would have
stopped him.

"No, no. What? It is impossible. . . . You
are not 111. . . . Leave me, dear sir ... I ... I

must . . ."

He stammered unintelligible phrases, hastening his
steps. Maurice re-entered the hall. He met the
musician Xavler Flamand, who said, "I just saw the
Count Styvens go out."

"At this hour?" exclaimed Montagnac, looking
at the Duke.

"He has gone to meet his mother at the station.
She arrives at eight o'clock. It is only seven, he will
arrive half an hour too soon."

"He is a dutiful son," said Montagnac. "I am
surprised that he has not taken his fiancee."

Maurice raised his head. "Then the Marquis
knows nothing!" he said to himself.

He reflected, "How dense I am growing. Evi-
dently neither the Duke nor Albert has told anyone
the motive of their quarrel."

Jean came up and cut short his monologue.

"I think that the two other seconds are Count
Alfred Montagnac, the Marquis's brother, and Cap-
tain Frederic Chevalier. Here they come now."

THE IDOL OF PARIS 287

Indeed the three seconds had just come up to the
Marquis, who asked Maurice to excuse him. "I will
be back in a few moments, dear M. Renaud."

The Duke dropped down by Maurice.

*'I beheve the fete will be a great success, but I
wonder if you long to have it over as heartily as I
do."

*'I regret,'* replied Maurice, "that our hostess ever
thought of it, and that we ever had anything to do
with it."

* 'Would you also regret having me for your
cousm :

*'No, you know very well that I would not,
but . . ."

"But?"

"I know . . ."

"You know?"

"Yes, I know."

"Who has told you?"

The Duke's face grew stern.

"No one, I give you my word, but I have guessed;
it was not very difficult . . ."

"Then, my dear Maurice, I must ask you to re-
main absolutely silent. None of our seconds know
the real reason of our meeting. None of them will
ever know. This duel will be to the death, by the wish
of Count Styvens, who has found himself justifiably
offended."

"Where will you meet?"

"At the Inn of the Three Roads.' "

288 THE IDOL OF PARIS

*'When?'^

*'To-morrow, immediately after the fete. The Inn
has been closed since this morning so as to receive no
one except ourselves and our witnesses. Now, my
dear Maurice, since you know, I want to ask you a
favour. Here are some papers that I wrote last
night. I am afraid my servant is on intimate terms
with Mme. de Morgueil's English maid, and I dare
not leave them in my room. I put them in your care.
If luck is against me you will give these to the proper
persons. If Count Albert is unfortunate, you will
give me back the envelope. I'll see you later!'*

He pressed the young man's hand in a close grasp.

The Duke de Castel-Montjoie, the Dowager's
only son, had been chosen by the seconds as umpire.
De Morlay and Styvens approved the choice.

The great hall had been invaded by a score of ser-
vants who arranged the chairs, placed the palms, and
hung silver chains to separate the musicians from the
audience. The curtain of the little stage was low-
ered, but a murmur could be heard through the
pretty drop painted by Maurice. Among the ser-
vants set to finish the costumes was the Duke's sly
goddaughter. Every time the Duke passed she
gazed at him and her lips trembled. She who was
usually so pert and smiling worked with set lips.

"Ha, ha !" said one of the maids, "you must be in
love, eh, Jeanette?"

"Let me alone, stupid, to my work," said the
young girl with tears in her eyes.

THE IDOL OF PARIS 289

She had been waked the night before by the noise
of opening doors, she had got up and seen her god-
father talking to her father. The Duke said, "You
must close your Inn early as possible, you must refuse
everybody, except the Doctor from the Chateau,
Count Styvens and four gentlemen with the Duke
of Castel-Montjoie. I shall probably get here
first."

"Ah! my God," the Innkeeper had murmured,
"the Duke is going to fight, I know that ... If
only nothing happens to you, sir."

"I need not say that I count on your discretion as
on your devotion. Have your best bedroom ready
to receive one or the other of the adversaries and
put yourself at the absolute disposition of the Duke
de Castel-Montjoie. Au revoir. Try not to let your
daughter know anything about this, and say nothing
to her; but I know that even if she discovered she
would not give us away. Au revoir!'*

As soon as the door closed Jeanette ran to her
father, bare-footed, her hair flying, just as she had
jumped out of bed.

"Great Heavens!" said the Innkeeper, "you were
listening."

"Yes, I was listening, I heard; I will prepare the
room, but it shall be for the other !"

"Do you know who the other is?"

"No," she said quickly.

"Do you know why they are fighting?"

"How should I know?" she demanded.

290 THE IDOL OF PARIS

She did know, however. So now she sat mute
under the gibes of the other servants.

Albert had returned with his mother, who seemed
gayer, happier than usual. Esperance went at once
to speak to her and was enthusiastically congratu-
lated on her superb bearing.

The Countess kissed Esperance whose eyes were
filling with tears, and she kissed the Countess's hands
with so much emotion that the lady raised the blonde
head, saying tenderly, "No, no, you must not cry!
We must love each other joyfully. I have never seen
my son so happy, I should be jealous if I loved him
less. See, dear, I want to give you these jewels my-
self; I beheve that they are going to suit you very
well."

She clasped a magnificent collar of pearls around
the young girl's neck. Esperance could not refuse
them. She thanked the lovely lady affectionately.

*'My father will tell me what to do," she thought.

Lunch was an hour earlier as the fete was to begin
at half-past two. "Heavens," said Mme. St3rvens
with perturbation, "I shall never be ready."

Esperance left her, happy to escape from her tor-
turing thoughts. "Deceit, deceit to this good wo-
man !" Albert was waiting to lead her back. He ad-
mired his mother's gift, and spoke to her gently.

"It is just the tint of your skin," he said, "that
gives these pearls their beautiful lustre. They ought
not to flatter themselves that it is they who embellish
you

V

THE IDOL OF PARIS 291

All this was added anguish for the girl, his moth-
er's kindness, Albert's gay confidence, and this fete
which was soon to begin, this fete where she must
show herself publicly with him whom she loved so
that she would die for him, with him who loved her
more than life! She repulsed with horror the ideas
that came crowding into her brain. If the Chateau
should burn. If she should fall down the staircase
and break a leg; if Albert should be taken ill and die
within the hour. ...If. ..if... and a mil-
lion visions raced through her brain as she went
back to the Tower of Saint Genevieve. But never
once did the Duke appear as a victim of any of
these misfortunes which her brain was conjecturing
up so busily.

Lunch was a bit disorganized. The Duke avoided
looking at Esperance. The sight of that child who
loved him filled him with such emotion that he was
afraid of betraying himself. The Countess of Mor-
gueil, annoyed at seeing the two men she had sought
to embroil talking together in the most courteous
fashion, started to sharpen her claws once more.

*'What a beautiful collar. Mile. Darbois ! this is
the first time that you have worn it, isn't it? Count,
I compliment you!"

"Mme. Styvens has just given It to me."

The Duke understood the embarrassment the child
felt, — not yet eighteen, and forced to extricate her-
self from nets set by such expert hands as best she
could.

292 THE IDOL OF PARIS

At half-past two the great hall was crowded by
women vying with each other In their beauty. It
was a magnificent sight! Xavler Flamand went to
his stand to conduct the orchestra.

He was heartily applauded and the spectacle com-
menced. More than two thousand people had come
together for the fete. The hall could only accommo-
date eight hundred. Other chairs had been placed
on the terrace. The tableaux began. The society
assembled, appreciated a form of art which is pleas-
ing and not fatiguing, which charms without dis-
turbing.

The tableau of Andromeda was frantically ap-
plauded. The men could not admire enough the
suppleness of Esperance's lovely body, the whiteness
of her bare feet with their pink arches, the gold of
her hair floating like a nimbus around the head of
Andromeda, waved by the breeze as the stage turned.
The women admired the Duke, so very beautiful in
his gold and silver armour.

*'How splendid the Duke is,'' remarked the Coun-
tess to Albert. *'No one could have a prouder bear-
ing. If I were in your place, my son, I should be
jealous."

^'Perhaps I am," said the Count, smiling.

"The Judgment of Paris" had the same success.
Everyone waited for "Europa," and many were
really disappointed. A hundred reasons were given
for Its withdrawal, and none of them the true one.

The philosopher and his wife were sitting with

THE IDOL OF PARIS 293

Genevieve behind the Styvens. Sometimes the Coun-
tess would turn around to compliment Francois, and
the unfortunate man, so frank, whose whole life had
never known deceit, suffered cruelly. There was an
intermission to set the stage for the concert. The
guests pressed around the Styvens's to express their
admiration for Esperance, in the most dithryambic,
the most superlative terms. The concert began. Al-
bert had to go upon the stage to play the Lizst duet
with Esperance. He begged Frangois Darbois to
take his place beside his mother.

When the curtain went up after the quartette of
*'Rigoletto," Esperance and Albert were seated on
the long piano stool. Loud applause greeted them.
The Duke was talking to Maurice in the wings and
seemed a little nervous. He envied Albert at that
moment for his superiority as a musician. When
they finished, a great tumult demanded an encore,
but Esperance had come to the end of her strength.

As the public continued to applaud, Maurice and
the Duke came forward to see why they did not raise
the curtain. Esperance looked at the Duke.

"Oh! no, please do not raise the curtain; my heart
is beating so fast."

Albert and the Duke supported her gently and she
leaned upon them, her pretty head bending towards
the Duke.

"I feel confused."

And she closed her eyes, afraid of giving herself
away. Once more in the air and she began to feel

294 THE IDOL OF PARIS

better. She breathed the little flask of ether that the
Doctor held under her nose.

"This poor heart is always making scenes. Ah!
dear Count, you will have to set that in order."

The Duke had moved away. Annoyed by the in-
sistence of the public, he told Jean Perliez to an-
nounce that Mile. Darbois needed a little rest, and
presented her compliments to the audience and ex-
cused herself from replying to the encoring. This
was a real disappointment. There had been such
enthusiasm for the two fiances, an enthusiasm well-
earned by the inspired execution of "Orpheus," that
the attitude of this elite audience was a little indiffer-
ent to the artists who concluded the concert. The
hall was half empty and several artists were too of-
fended to appear.

Esperance went to her room with her mother and
Genevieve, begging the Count to return to his
mother.

"Your mother will be anxious, and my father can
not reassure her, because he does not himself know
the symptoms of this slight illness. Tell them that I
will rest for a quarter of an hour and then join you
at my flower booth."

When she was left alone with Genevieve she drew
her friend to her.

"My dear little sister, I cannot tell you the joy
that pervades every part of my being. In an hour
It will be over ! My father will talk with Albert and
I shall be free! free!"

THE IDOL OF PARIS 295

*'Poor boy," sighed Genevieve.

"Oh! yes, I am ungrateful to his great devotion,
but I should be false to myself and to you, Genevieve,
if I told you that the idea of his despair greatly
troubles me. I know that every one about me re-
grets the breaking off of this marriage, and still I
don't care. You all admire the Duke, but you blame
him a little. I know that, but that is all submerged
and forgotten in my great love. When I reason as I
do now, I recognize at once the horrible storm I am
causing, and yet I cannot feel sad. I find all sorts of
excuses for myself, and cast back all the responsibility
on Fate."

She was silent an Instant.

*'Do you think It will take vengeance?"

Mile. Frahender came in.

"What will take vengeance?"

"Fate."

"My dear child, what Is called Fate Is simply the
law of God."

"Then If God Is just he will not avenge himself,
for what has happened Is not my fault."

The old lady looked at the young girl very ten-
derly.

"My dear child, do not get Into the habit of throw-
ing the responsibility of your actions upon others.
Certainly we are not responsible for events, but we
can almost always choose the way to meet them.
Only, some flatter their passions and refuse to assert
themselves against them! This weakness opens the

296 THE IDOL OF PARIS

door to all other concessions, and then it becomes
difficult to make a loyal examination of our con-
science."

*'Is that my case?'* asked the young girl with some
anxiety.

^'Perhaps/' replied Mile. Frahender, frankly.

*'0h! little lady, be kinder to me, I am so happy
that I cannot believe such happiness comes from
troubled waters. . . . And I swear you that my
heart is loyal.**

The old lady kissed her charge, but her smile was
sad. Esperance was now ready to go to her flower
stall. A pretty dress, toned like a pigeon's breast, a
round neck with a tulle collar, a wide girdle fastened
with a bunch of primroses, a flapping hat of Italian
straw tied with two narrow ribbons under her chin,
created a delightful effect and a ravishing frame for
her lovely face. When she passed lightly on her way
to her booth, she caused quite a sensation. The
Duke, Count Albert, Maurice and Jean Perliez were
waiting for her. A crowd followed in her wake.

The Duke and Count had the same longing to see
her, to be with her up to the last moment! They
understood each other at that instant, and each out-
did the other in courtesy. Albert was the first cus-
tomer, passing a thousand francs for a primrose from
her belt. The Duke made the same bargain. The
girl's fingers trembled as she handed him the flower.
Albert felt a choking feeling in his throat. The
crowd pressed round. A German offered ten thou-

THE IDOL OF PARIS 297

sand francs for a flower which the young girl had
put to her lips. At last Albert could work off some
of his emotion. He repulsed the German.

*'There is nothing more for sale, sir. I have just
bought everything for fifty thousand francs."

The German would have protested, but he was
pushed back by the crowd and landed at a distance.

''That was well done!"

"I did not know that he could be so impulsive."

"He was quite right."

"The poor people of the Duchess will become
land-holders!"

And the crowd scattered, making many comments
on the way. Albert was soon surrounded, as every-
body wanted to shake hands with him. The Duke
had stepped back behind the booth. Esperance came
out with Genevieve and Mile. Frahender. He
stopped beside her a moment.

"I love you."

"Oh, thank you."

"Forever, I hope!"

Then, as he saw the Count was still surrounded
and that Esperance would not be able to make her
way to him, he offered her his arm.

"Let me take you to Count Styvens, who cannot
extricate himself!"

With the help of Jean and Maurice, he dispersed
the guests and led Esperance to her fiance. At that
moment anyone who had suspected the Duke of inten-
tions to flirt with the plighted girl, must have aban-

298 THE IDOL OF PARIS

doned their idea; and the motive of the duel, which
was to bring one of these two perfect gentlemen to
his death, became more and more obscure.

Count Styvens saw the girl coming to him on the
Duke's arm, and he did not suffer from the sight;
his suffering for the last two days had been too ex-
treme to feel upset by any increase. He took Esper-
ance to the door of the Tower.

*'You were lovelier than ever before."

He kissed her fingers devotedly. The young girl
felt a tiny tear fall like a terrible weight on her hand.
He lifted his head quickly, looked fixedly at Esper-
ance with a look of such goodness and faith, that she
felt suddenly guilty and bent her head. The Count
shook hands cordially with the philosopher.

"Do not forget," the elder man said to him, "that
I want to have a little talk with you ; it is more than
a wish, it is a duty."

"I also have a serious duty to attend to," replied
the young Count. "Excuse me if I have to keep you
waiting."

CHAPTER XXVIII

Albert went immediately to his mother, who was
taking tea with the Princess. He embraced her with
such tenderness that she was astonished at his ardour.
The Princess held out her hand.

*'Do not wait too long to realize your happiness,
Albert. You know how all your friends will re-
joice with you.**

He kissed her hand again, and went to join his
two seconds at the gate of the kitchen garden.

The crowd had all dispersed to catch the last train.

The meeting at the "Three Roads" was for seven.
They saw the Duke de Castel-Montjoie from a dis-
tance. He had had some difficulty to escape, having
had to help his mother, the Duchess, with the last
farewells. He bowed to the Count and led the way
by a little door to the inn stable. He was carrying
two sets of swords, done up in two cases of green
cloth.

The Duke and his seconds were already there.

Only the Doctor had not arrived. Morlay-La-

Branche and Albert bowed to each other and got

ready.

The little bowers, where the habitues of the inn

299

300 THE IDOL OF PARIS

often ate their midday meals, served them as dress-
ing-rooms. The Doctor arrived out of breath, with
the information that he had not been able to get a
confrere and would have to serve both sides. The
umpire, in company with the seconds, chose an alley
of proper dimensions. The adversaries were placed
opposite, sword in hand. The Duke de Castel-Mont-
joie touched the points of their swords and said,
''Go!"

The conditions of the duel were very strict. The
first round should last three minutes, should neither
of the adversaries be touched.

"Halt!" cried the Duke de Castel-Montjoie.

One minute was allowed them to breathe.

"Go," said the umpire, again joining the sword
tips.

This time Albert made a furious drive against the
Duke. There was a moment of suspense. The
Duke did not give way. His arm shot out and the
unfortunate Count turned completely round and fell.
Charles de Morlay's sword had pierced beneath the
right arm pit, entering the lung. The blood streamed
from the wounded man's mouth. The Doctor and
the seconds carried him into the room which Jean-
ette had prepared. The Duke, sorely moved, fol-
lowed them. Albert saw him and held out his hand
which the Duke pressed gently, bending his head.
The count signed to the seconds to withdraw.

"I was wrong, Duke," he murmured. "My love
had blinded my wisdom with the heavy mask of

THE IDOL OF PARIS 301

egoism. On the threshold of eternity the truth seems
clearer. Forgive me, De Morlay, as I forgive you."

He choked. The Doctor came forward. The
Duke, as pale as the dying man, pressed that loyal
hand for the last time, and withdrew.

In her own room Esperance had just waked with
an anguished cry.

*'What is the matter with you?"

"I ... I ... I do not know ... a catastro-
phe . . . where is my father?"

"In his room, and . . ."

At that very moment Maurice knocked at the
door, and before they had time to answer him, he
entered. His face was distorted with grief.

"A catastrophe, a catastrophe !" repeated Esper-
ance, at sight of him.

*'Get up, put on a wrap, put something on your
head, and come, come quickly! A carriage is waiting
for us!"

*'A catastrophe, a catastrophe! Albert? the
Duke? . . ."

*'Albert!" he answered brusquely. *'Come
quickly! He wants to see you before . . ."

The words died in his throat.

He helped his cousin and led her rapidly to the
carriage. Esperance was gasping with anguish.

"Tell me, Maurice, tell me."

But the young man could not answer. He knew
only that Albert was mortally wounded. He had
been waiting a few paces from the Inn to see the

302 THE IDOL OF PARIS

duellers come out. The Duke dc Morlay-La-
Branche and Castel-Montjole appeared first, and as
they were talking to the young man, the Marquis
de Montagnac came out precipitately.

"I beg you," he said to Maurice, "to fetch the
Count's fiance. He wants to see her before his
mother knows."

And Maurice had departed in mad haste.

As soon as they reached the Inn, Esperance
jumped to the ground. Jeanette, who had kept a
constant watch, ran along ahead of her and without a
word showed her the door of the room where Count
Albert lay dying. The Doctor stopped her.

"Very gently," he said.

But Albert had felt the presence of his dearly
loved. He raised himself a little, holding out his
great arms to the young girl.

"Come to me, my love, do not be afraid. I will
never hold you again in these arms that frighten you.
Listen carefully. I have only a few minutes to live !
No one knows the real reason of my quarrel with the
Duke. . . . You may have thought that it was about
you. I swear to you," he laid stress on the word,
"I swear to you that it was nothing to do with you !"

His glazing eyes cleared for an instant, illuminated
by the beauty of his falsehood.

"Marry the Duke, he is charming . . . he . . .
he is loyal . . . but do not abandon my mother; she
will have only you !"

Two red streams trickled from the corners of his

THE IDOL OF PARIS 303

mouth. Esperance, on her knees with her hands
crossed on the bed, watched the blood run down on
the face that had grown paler than the pillow. Her
tears blinded her, and she shook as with an ague.
Albert ceased breathing for an instant. The Doctor,
who was watching closely from the end of the room,
came near and gave him a dose of chlorate of calcium
to stop the hemorrhage ; then at a sign from Albert,
withdrew again.

^Tromise me," said the young man, "that you will
always keep this necklace!"

"Albert, don't die ! I will love you ! I do love
you! Have pity! I will always wear the necklace.
You shall unfasten it every evening and clasp it every
morning! Do not die! Do not die! I am your
fiance, to-morrow I will be your wife! You must
live for your mother, for me !"

The door opened and the Countess, suddenly
awakened, entered with the Baron van Berger and
the Duke de Castel-Montjoie.

"Mother, dear mother, forgive me. ... I leave
you Esperance, who will take my place with you.
Forgive the Duke de Morlay the pain he has caused
you. Our quarrel was so deep, we could only settle
it by arms. It was I, I, who precipitated matters.
The Duke acted like an honourable gentleman. Oh I
do not weep, mother, do not weep !"

He raised his hand painfully to wipe with trem-
bling fingers the tears burning the beautiful eyes that
had already wept so much.

304 THE IDOL OF PARIS

The Chaplain from the Chateau entered the room,
bearing the Holy Sacrament. He was accompanied
by the Dowager Duchess, the Prince and Princess of
Bernecourt. A solemn hush quieted the sobs of the
two women. The priest bent over the couch of the
dying man. The Count summoned all his strength
to receive the extreme unction, then, transfigured by
his faith, he sat up, extending his arms. The two
women threw themselves trembling into the open
arms, which closed upon them in the last struggle of
life. They remained there, imprisoned, not knowing
that the soul had fled.

A terrible cry shook these souls sunk down in grief.
Esperance shrieked, "These arms, these arms, loosen
these arms which are strangling me . . . Deliver
me, deliver me from these arms ... I am chok-
ing. . . .

They had some difficulty in freeing her. Her pu-
pils dilated by terror, she was hardly able to breathe.
The Doctor did not disguise his anxiety.

"Save her. Doctor," said the Countess Styvens,
"save my daughter. My son is now with God; he
sees me, he waits for me, but I must obey his last
wish."

They carried Esperance away unconscious, without
tears, without movement, almost without life. Fran-
gois, who had just arrived with his wife, learned of
the frightful tragedy and received in his arms the
poor unconscious cause of the drama. Mme. Dar-
bois did not wish to leave her daughter, but the phi-

THE IDOL OF PARIS 305

losopher insisted, until she could not refuse, that she
should go back to the Countess Styvens.

When the professor arrived at the Chateau he
found the Duke de Morlay at the gate waiting for
tidings. At sight of Esperance unconscious, her head
fallen back on her father's breast, he jumped on the
step of the victoria.

"What more has happened?" he asked panting.

"The Doctor will be here in a few minutes. He
will tell you. . . .'*

The carriage drove on to the Tower of Saint
Genevieve. The Duke took the poor figure in his
arms and carried her up to her room, followed by
Frangois Darbois, broken by sorrow. Genevieve
was waiting feverishly for the return of Maurice
and Esperance. She showed the Duke where to lay
Esperance. He stretched the slender creature on her
bed. Her eyes were open, but she recognized no one.
The rigidity of her expression frightened the Duke,
and he bent in terror to listen to her breathing. A
faint burning breath touched his face.

The Doctor declared that he could give no decision
at that moment, and ordered them to leave her to
sleep,

"She must not be left for a second," he said.
"Two people must watch so that she need never be
left alone."

The Duke kissed the limp little hand, and recoiled
— his lips touched her engagement ring. As he
went out he met the Countess Styvens and hardly

3o6 THE IDOL OF PARIS

recognized her, so terribly was she changed. She
stopped him.

*'Do not leave. I know from my son that it was
he who provoked you. The cause of your duel is a
secret that I shall never seek to know. May God
pardon my son and free you from all remorse. I go
to my daughter, all I have left to love and protect."

It was evident that the noble woman was making
a great effort; the last words of her son were still
ringing in her brain.

De Morlay knelt and watched the Countess disap-
pear into the room.

CHAPTER XXIX

The Doctor declared that evening that Esperance
had congestion of the brain, and that specialists who
were sent for from Paris confirmed the diagnosis.
The Dowager would not hear of having her taken
away. The Tower of Saint Genevieve was put en-
tirely at the Darbois's disposal. Two sisters were
sent for, and Jeanette volunteered to do the heavy
work. All the other servants were forbidden to ap-
proach the Tower.

The Countess Styvens, accompanied by the Duke
de Castel-Montjoie, the Prince and Princess de
Bernecourt, and the Baron van Berger, had taken
the body of her son to be buried in the great family
mausoleum which she had raised to the memory of
her husband at her country place of Lacken.

Maurice and Genevieve were greatly relieved
when they learned that the Countess had not re-
mained. In her crises of delirium Esperance talked
and talked. . . .

"Albert, no, no, I do not love him ... I love the
Duke. . . . Yes, he saved my life, but my father is
going to tell him. ... I cannot keep this col-
lar. ... It is cold, cold, It strangles me, I am sti-
fling ... I am going to die. . . . Yes, Albert, you
shall clasp the chain every morning . . . and every

307

3o8 THE IDOL OF PARIS

evening. . . . No, my head Is not too low, I can see
the beauty of Perseus better. He Is coming? . . .
He IS coming to cut off the long arms that hold me.
. . . The blood, there, the blood running slowly!
. . . No, Albert, do not die, I will love you, the
Duke will go ! . . ."

In spite of her trusting confidence, the poor mother
must have come to wonder and perhaps to under-
stand.

When Esperance regained consciousness the worst
crises were over. Only Genevieve and Mile. Fra-
hender had heard the complete revelation.

Jeanette knew too, but Genevieve, who understood
that she was there to keep the Duke Informed, found
her very docile and repentant and did not send her
away. The Countess, to whom they had sent a dally
bulletin for three weeks, found Esperance, If not
cured, was at least on the way to convalescence. She
would still pass many hours when she failed to recog-
nize people. A kind of coma took possession of her
every now and then and kept her for days together
in a lethargy.

The season was getting late, and all the house
guests had left. The Dowager Duchess did not wish
to return to Paris, although her son, who had become
a deputy as she wished, Invited her to come and stay
with him. The Prince de Bernecourt had had to
once more take up his post, but his wife had stayed
to keep her friend company, and because she loved
the "little Darbols," as she called her. The Duke

THE IDOL OF PARIS 309

de Morlay was visiting friends whose Chateau was
about an hour's journey away. He came every day
for news from the Duchess, and from his goddaugh-
ter Jeanette.

A month went by. The young girl, now convales-
cent, was strong enough to be moved.

"We will take her to Penhouet for a month," said
Francois Darbois's note to the Countess, "and when
she Is quite cured we will send her to you in Brus-
sels."

The Duke was in despair at the idea of hearing
that Esperance was to go away. He complained to
Maurice whom he saw every day, "Can I not see
Esperance?"

"Yes, but only for a few seconds," said the young
painter. "I believe that you will have to wait several
months before you can renew your love. She is con-
valescent, but not cured. Here is a proposal for you :
I am going to marry Mile. Hardouin in two months.
Come to our wedding. Your presence will seem quite
natural, for you have treated me as a friend. I am
very much attached to you and I am sure that my
cousin will be very happy with you when you are
married."

"But will she be well In two months?"

"The Doctor assures us that she will be quite her-
self, and it is by his advice that we have set that date
for our marriage."

"Do you think Mile. Hardouin would accept me
as a witness?"

3IO THE IDOL OF PARIS

*'She will be delighted, and I thank you. Gene-
vieve has no relations except her older sister, who
has brought her up."

*'I hope that this marriage will recall Esperance's
promise to her. Meantime I shall go to Italy for
about the two months. Will you see If I may say
good-bye to her?"

"I will go now."

He was soon back again.

"My cousin expects you."

It was more than a month since the Duke had seen
Esperance. He was painfully shocked by the change
in her pretty face. She looked hardly real. Her
eyes were enormous. Genevieve and Mile. Frahen-
der were with her.

"Here is the Duke de Morlay-La-Branche who has
come to say good-bye to you."

Esperance turned her eyes towards the Duke.

"It Is a long time since I have seen you," she said
simply.

And her voice sounded like the tone of a distant
harp.

"You have been very 111!"

"I have been very ill, I believe, but I cannot re-
member very well. I feel as If I had had heavy
blows In my brain; sometimes I hear dreadful calls
and then everything is quiet again. And then some-
times I see a piece of a picture, no beginning, no
end, sometimes horrible, sometimes lovely. Why,
now I remember," she spoke gently with a charming

THE IDOL OF PARIS 311

smile, "that you are part of all my visions, but I do
not know any more how, or why. . . . And Albert,
where is he? Why does he not come? He must
come and undo the collar. . . . Ah! my God, my
God, I am wandering you see, nothing is clear yet.'*

She raised her arms.

*'My God, my God, have pity on me or take me at
once. I do not want to lose my mind!"

She took the Duke's hand.

*'Say you are not sorry that you loved me?"

*'I love you always!"

She clapped her hands with a silvery laugh,
**Genevieve, Genevieve, he loves me still."

And she hid her head on the young girl's arm.
Maurice led the Duke away, overcome. He looked
questioningly at the painter.

*'No, she will not be light-headed long, the Doctors
all agree about that, but her memory will have to
come back by degrees a little at a time. She recog-
nized you. She remembered her love and yours.
That is a great step. Her youth, her love, and time
will be, I believe, certain restorers."

The Duke left soon after they had taken Esper-
ance away.

In Belgium the Countess prepared for her beloved
daughter. This beautiful woman of forty, so charm-
ing, so handsome in her mauve mourning, had al-
ready become an old woman whose movements were
ever slow and sad. Her back was bent, from con-
stantly kneeling beside her son's grave. Her black

312 THE IDOL OF PARIS

clothes reflected the deeper gloom of her expression.
And to those who had seen her a few months before,
she was almost unrecognizable.

Poor little Esperance regained her health very
slowly. Her mind seemed entirely clear only on one
subject, the theatre. Little by little she remembered
everything connected with her art. She repeated
with Genevieve and Jean Perllez the scenes they had
given at the Competition. She worked hard on Mus-
set's On ne hadine pas avec Vavioiir; then busied her-
self with preparations for her friend's marriage.
She did not know that the Duke was to be a witness.

"But," she would often object, "you must have
two witnesses, and you have only one."

"I have two," said Genevieve, "but you must
guess the name of the second."

CHAPTER XXX

The wedding, solemnized in the little church of Sau-
zen, at Belle-Isle-en-Mer, was very private. Mau-
rice had for witnesses his uncle, Frangois Darbois,
and the Marquis de Montagnac, with whom he had
become great friends. Doctor Potain and the Duke
de Morlay-La-Branche were witnesses for Gene-
vieve. The Dowager Duchess and the Princess de
Bernecourt were present. The Countess Styvens had
been ill for a month and could not leave Brussels.
She sent a magnificent present of diamonds and
pearls to Genevieve, who was filled with joy. The
Duchess gave the young bride a splendid silver serv-
ice, and the Princess brought with her some beautiful
lace. Genevieve had attached herself very strongly
to the first of these sweet women, and Maurice had
made a conquest of the Princess by painting her an
admirable portrait.

The sight of the Duke made the Invalid exuberant
with joy. She constantly forgot her duties as maid
of honour to draw near the loved being.

Doctor Potain watched her closely, and made a
thorough examination. He knew nothing of her love
for the Duke, but when the latter questioned him
about her health, he said, "There is only one chance

313

314 THE IDOL OF PARIS

of restoring her health. She must go back on the
stage."

The Duke jumped. "Impossible !" he said.

"Why impossible? Her fiance is dead."

The Duke spoke to the man of science. "Listen
to me, Doctor, I am passionately in love with this
girl who loved me, but only remembers that at in-
tervals. ... I cannot, indeed . . ."

"Approve of her going on the stage? Urge her
yourself, and you will save her. When she is cured
If she loves you, as you believe, she will leave every-
thing to follow you ; but now neurasthenia or madness
await her. She must be roused to work outside her-
self. Do as I tell you and you will invite me to your
wedding."

The Duke went straight to find Frangois Darbois.
Maurice would have retired. "No," said the Duke
to him, "I want you to stay," and he told them
word for word what the Doctor had said.

"Well, what do you think?" Frangois Darbois
asked him.

"I think that the most important thing in all the
world is to save her! I will wait . . ."

Frangois pressed his hand, and there was taken
between these two men, who were so different in
every way, a silent pledge that both were deter-
mined to keep at all costs.

From that instant each one strained every nerve
to revive in Esperance her dearest desire.

Several days after this visit, Esperance received a

THE IDOL OF PARIS 315

letter from the Comedie-Frangals, asking her to come
to the office. She turned pink. Her lovely forehead
brightened for the first time in many months. She
handed the letter to her father, who knew what it
contained, and had been watching his child's sur-
prise very closely.

"We must go back to Paris, father, I feel entirely
well."

"Good, Mademoiselle, we will obey your orders,"
he said tenderly.

She kissed her father as she used to do, and began
to tease him a little.

"How fine it is to have such an agreeable papa !
You have plenty of cause to be severe, for I give you
endless trouble."

"So you are to make your debut at the Comedie-
Frangaise?"

"My God!" said the young girl, starting up,
"that might cost you your election!"

Frangois Darbois began to laugh, for his joy re-
turned to him when his daughter's memory came
back to her.

"Leave my election alone. They won't even nomi-
nate me, and I shall not worry."

Mme. Darbois came in and Frangols pretended to
disclose the news to her. She assumed surprise. To
hide her emotion, she took her daughter in a long
embrace.

Maurice had taken his young wife to Italy, to show
her in its most harmonious setting the most beautiful

3i6 THE IDOL OF PARIS

aspirations of art towards the ideal. The Duke de
Morlay travelled there with them, adoring Italy as
does every devotee of art. There was not a corner
of this rare country that he did not know.

The sojourn of the young couple in Italy was pure
enchantment. Maurice was constantly surprised by
the intellectual strength of his companion. Like
most artists he had an indulgent scorn for what so
many call and think the worldly class. When he
originally met the Duke he had recognized his culti-
vation, and found that his eclecticism was exact,
profound, and not the superficial veneer he had at
first supposed. He realized that men of the world do
not vaunt their knowledge, though it is often far
deeper than that of certain artists who never go be-
low the depths of but one art: their own.

Almost every day Maurice received a letter or
telegram giving him news of his cousin. The advice
of Doctor Potain seemed to be justifying itself.
Every day Esperance began to recover her health and
spirits. She was rehearsing at the Comedie, and
her debut in On ne badine pas avec V amour was an-
nounced for the next month.

The travellers had intended to spend another ten
days in Italy. But a letter to Genevieve alarmed
them. She read it aloud.

"My darling, I am just now the happiest girl in
the world. First because my dear cousin is seeing
so many beautiful things that shine through her

THE IDOL OF PARIS 317

letters and show her so enchanted with life that I
feel the stimulus myself, and long to live to go my-
self to breathe the divine air of Italy, and admire
the masterpieces there. Tell the Duke de Morlay
that no day passes without my thoughts flying to him.
Only one thing worries me. I can confide it to you,
Genevieve, you who are so perfectly happy. Why
does the theatre draw me so that I am willing to
sacrifice for it even those I love? I see the Countess
Styvens every day. She seems a light ready to
flicker out. Sometimes she looks at me as If she saw
me far, very far away, and murmurs, 'Poor little
thing, it is not her fault!' Then I shiver. What is
not my fault? Albert's death. Dear Albert, who
frightened me so much sometimes, that I felt my
teeth chattering! Do you know how he died? No-
body seems to knov/ ! Genevieve dear, the pearl col-
lar strangles me sometimes. I promised not to take
it off, but I must take it off to play ^Camille' In Mus-
set's play. Mustn't I? She cannot wear pearls at
the convent? When I promised that, I did not expect
ever to appear on the stage any more ; but now ! Be-
sides, when I am on the stage I am not myself at all.
Esperance stays behind In the dressing-room and
'Camille^ comes forth. Then the collar? Ask the
Duke, without telling him that I asked you, what I
should do. This collar seems to me such a heavy
chain, so heavy and sometimes so cold. I must stop
this letter, for you see the confusion is coming back
again. I am a little frightened! I must be trem-

3i8 THE IDOL OF PARIS

bllng, does It not show In my writing? It Is little
Mademoiselle's pen. I embrace you with all the
strength of my joy In your happiness. — Esperance.'*

The writing changed.

*'I must make Esperance stop. She has been
wandering again as she writes. Her pulse Is very
quick. I must tell her father. Au revoir, dear girl,
and come back soon ; for you are the brightness and
peace she longs for. My regards to your husband. —
Eleanore Frahender."

This letter made Maurice, his wife and the Duke
very anxious.

*'She must In some way be prevented from seeing
the Countess Styvens/' said Genevieve, "but how are
we to manage that?"

They decided to shorten their stay in Italy by five
days.

Esperance was to appear on the twentieth of De-
cember, about fifteen days after her letter reached
them. All the elegant world of Paris, artistic, sen-
sation-hunting, was waiting with delight for the ap-
pearance of the little heroine, the idol of the public.
Count Styvens's death In a duel, slain by a well-known
admirer of Esperance, had caused a great deal of
ink to be spilled. But the devotion of the Countess
towards the girl who would have been her daughter,
the denials of the witnesses to the most intimate
friends, asking if . . . really . . . between our-
selves . . . was not there something? . . . de-

THE IDOL OF PARIS 319

celved the most suspicious. All these "fors" and
"againsts" had kindled the curiosity of the public,
and the general sympathy was strongly in favour of
the unconscious cause of the great modern mystery.
The notice, announcing the first appearance of Esper-
ance Darbois in On ne had'ine pas avec V amour drew
an enormous crowd. The house was entirely sold out
several days in advance. Many who could not get
admission waited outside the theatre to get news dur-
ing the intervals. The corridors were full of French
and foreign reporters.

Behind the scenes Esperance stood looking at her-
self in the mirror. It was almost time for the cur-
tain to go up. Dressed in the convent robe, the
strings of pearls was still about her neck. Should
she unclasp it, should she not? If they went with her
on the stage would she not be betraying her art;
would they not clutch and strangle her, strangle
*^Camilley* until Esperance had to come back in her
place? And if she cast it aside, her loyalty, her
promise? Must she wear fetters to keep faith?
Oh, Albert, Albert ! Oh, these dark shadows, these
groping dark confusions where she so often strayed.
Where was rest? Or peace? And joy, the joy of
the theatre, would that, too, be taken away? She
swayed a little and longed with all her strength for a
force not her own to enter in. She was too weak to
fight against her own Destiny.

She found it. A hint of it came first in the scent
of gardenia flowers, sweet and strong and penetrat-

320 THE IDOL OF PARIS

ing, cx)mpelling and agreeable to the senses. Then
the Duke's strong arms were about her, and she
sank gladly back as If she was falling Into a flood of
light.

But his swift words brought her back.

"Esperance, my darling, we have no time to lose.
Come with me. The Countess Styvens Is dying. She
would not send for you, she would not spoil your
triumph. But she can absolve you. She can loose
the pearls. You can remember the other request
Albert made you then, his dying wish, my living one.
Come with me, be her daughter to the last, and then,
my love, to Italy, where we will find you health and
strength, and build you up for your future as my
wife."

The End

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