White Lies

  CHAPTER IV.

  Edouard Riviere was unhappy. She never came out now. This alone made thedays dark to him. And then he began to fear it was him she shunned. Shemust have seen him lie in wait for her; and so she would come out nomore. He prowled about and contrived to fall in with Jacintha; he toldher his grief. She assured him the simple fact was their mourning wasworn out, and they were ashamed to go abroad in colors. This revelationmade his heart yearn still more.

  "O Jacintha," said he, "if I could only make a beginning; but here wemight live a century in the same parish, and not one chance for a poorwretch to make acquaintance."

  Jacintha admitted this, and said gentlefolks were to be pitied. "Why, ifit was the likes of me, you and I should have made friends long beforenow."

  Jacintha herself was puzzled what to do; she would have told Rose if shehad felt sure it would be well received; but she could not find out thatthe young lady had even noticed the existence of Edouard. But her brainworked, and lay in wait for an opportunity.

  One came sooner than she expected. One morning at about six o'clock, asshe came home from milking the cow, she caught sight of young Rivieretrying to open the iron gate. "What is up now?" thought she; suddenlythe truth flashed upon her, clear as day. She put her pail down andstole upon him. "You want to leave us another purse," said she. Hecolored all over and panted.

  "How did you know? how could you know? you won't betray me? you won't beso cruel? you promised."

  "Me betray you," said Jacintha; "why, I'll help you; and then they willbe able to buy mourning, you know, and then they will come out, and giveyou a chance. You can't open that gate, for it's locked. But you comeround to the lane, and I'll get you the key; it is hanging up in thekitchen."

  The key was in her pocket. But the sly jade wanted him away from thatgate; it commanded a view of the Pleasaunce. He was no sooner safe inthe lane, than she tore up-stairs to her young ladies, and asked themwith affected calm whether they would like to know who left the purse.

  "Oh, yes, yes!" screamed Rose.

  "Then come with me. You ARE dressed; never mind your bonnets, or youwill be too late."

  Questions poured on her; but she waived all explanation, and did notgive them time to think, or Josephine, for one, she knew would raiseobjections. She led the way to the Pleasaunce, and, when she got to theancestral oak, she said hurriedly, "Now, mesdemoiselles, hide in there,and as still as mice. You'll soon know who leaves the purses."

  With this she scudded to the lane, and gave Edouard the key. "Looksharp," said she, "before they get up; it's almost their dressing time."

  "YOU'LL SOON KNOW WHO LEAVES THE PURSES!"

  Curiosity, delicious curiosity, thrilled our two daughters of Eve.

  This soon began to alternate with chill misgivings at the novelty of thesituation.

  "She is not coming back," said Josephine ruefully.

  "No," said Rose, "and suppose when we pounce out on him, it should be astranger."

  "Pounce on him? surely we are not to do that?"

  "Oh, y-yes; that is the p-p-programme," quavered Rose.

  A key grated, and the iron gate creaked on its hinges. They ran togetherand pinched one another for mutual support, but did not dare to speak.

  Presently a man's shadow came slap into the tree. They crouched andquivered, and expected to be caught instead of catching, and wishedthemselves safe back in bed, and all this a nightmare, and no worse.

  At last they recovered themselves enough to observe that this shadow,one half of which lay on the ground, while the head and shoulders went alittle way up the wall of the tree, represented a man's profile, not hisfront face. The figure, in short, was standing between them and the sun,and was contemplating the chateau, not the tree.

  The shadow took off its hat to Josephine, in the tree. Then would shehave screamed if she had not bitten her white hand instead, and made ared mark thereon.

  It wiped its brow with a handkerchief; it had walked fast, poor thing!The next moment it was away.

  They looked at one another and panted. They scarcely dared do it before.Then Rose, with one hand on her heaving bosom, shook her little whitefist viciously at where the figure must be, and perhaps a comicaldesire of vengeance stimulated her curiosity. She now glided through thefissure like a cautious panther from her den; and noiseless and suppleas a serpent began to wind slowly round the tree. She soon came to agreat protuberance in the tree, and twining and peering round it withdiamond eye, she saw a very young, very handsome gentleman, stealing ontiptoe to the nearest flower-bed. Then she saw him take a purse out ofhis bosom, and drop it on the bed. This done, he came slowly past thetree again, and was even heard to vent a little innocent chuckle ofintense satisfaction: but of brief duration; for, when Rose saw thepurse leave his hand, she made a rapid signal to Josephine to wheelround the other side of the tree, and, starting together with admirableconcert, both the daughters of Beaurepaire glided into sight with a vastappearance of composure.

  Two women together are really braver than fifteen separate; but still,most of this tranquillity was merely put on, but so admirably thatEdouard Riviere had no chance with them. He knew nothing about theirtremors; all he saw or heard was, a rustle, then a flap on each side ofhim as of great wings, and two lovely women were upon him with angelicswiftness. "Ah!" he cried out with a start, and glanced from thefirst-comer, Rose, to the gate. But Josephine was on that side by thistime, and put up her hand, as much as to say, "You can't pass here." Insuch situations, the mind works quicker than lightning. He took off hishat, and stammered an excuse--"Come to look at the oak." At this momentRose pounced on the purse, and held it up to Josephine. He was caught.His only chance now was to bolt for the mark and run; but it was notthe notary, it was a novice who lost his presence of mind, or perhapsthought it rude to run when a lady told him to stand still. All he didwas to crush his face into his two hands, round which his cheeks andneck now blushed red as blood. Blush? they could both see the color rushlike a wave to the very roots of his hair and the tips of his fingers.

  The moment our heroines, who, in that desperation which is one ofthe forms of cowardice, had hurled themselves on the foe, saw this,flash--the quick-witted poltroons exchanged purple lightning overEdouard's drooping head, and enacted lionesses in a moment.

  It was with the quiet composure of lofty and powerful natures thatJosephine opened on him. "Compose yourself, sir; and be so good asto tell us who you are." Edouard must answer. Now he could not speakthrough his hands; and he could not face a brace of tranquil lionesses:so he took a middle course, removed one hand, and shading himself fromJosephine with the other, he gasped out, "I am--my name is Riviere; andI--I--ladies!"

  "I am afraid we frighten you," said Josephine, demurely.

  "Don't be frightened," said Rose, majestically; "we are not VERY angry,only a LITTLE curious to know why you water our flowers with gold."

  At this point-blank thrust, and from her, Edouard was so confounded anddistressed, they both began to pity him. He stammered out that he wasso confused he did not know what to say. He couldn't think how ever hecould have taken such a liberty; might he be permitted to retire? andwith this he tried to slip away.

  "Let me detain you one instant," said Josephine, and made for the house.

  Left alone so suddenly with the culprit, the dignity, and majesty, andvalor of Rose seemed to ooze gently out; and she stood blushing, and hadnot a word to say; no more had Edouard. But he hung his head, and shehung her head. And, somehow or other, whenever she raised her eyesto glance at him, he raised his to steal a look at her, and mutualdiscomfiture resulted.

  This awkward, embarrassing delirium was interrupted by Josephine'sreturn. She now held another purse in her hand, and quietly poured therest of the coin into it. She then, with a blush, requested him to takeback the money.

  At that he found his tongue. "No, no," he cried, and put up his hands insupplication. "Ladies, do let me speak ONE word to you. Do not reject myfriendship. You are alone in the w
orld; your father is dead; your motherhas but you to lean on. After all, I am your neighbor, and neighborsshould be friends. And I am your debtor; I owe you more than you couldever owe me; for ever since I came into this neighborhood I have beenhappy. No man was ever so happy as I, ever since one day I waswalking, and met for the first time an angel. I don't say it was you,Mademoiselle Rose. It might be Mademoiselle Josephine."

  "How pat he has got our names," said Rose, smiling.

  "A look from that angel has made me so good, so happy. I used tovegetate, but now I live. Live! I walk on wings, and tread on roses. Yetyou insist on declining a few miserable louis d'or from him who owes youso much. Well, don't be angry; I'll take them back, and throw them intothe nearest pond, for they are really no use to me. But then you willbe generous in your turn. You will accept my devotion, my services.You have no brother, you know; well, I have no sisters; let me be yourbrother, and your servant forever."

  At all this, delivered in as many little earnest pants as there weresentences, the water stood in the fair eyes he was looking into sopiteously.

  Josephine was firm, but angelical. "We thank you, Monsieur Riviere,"said she, softly, "for showing us that the world is still embellishedwith hearts like yours. Here is the money;" and she held it out in hercreamy hand.

  "But we are very grateful," put in Rose, softly and earnestly.

  "That we are," said Josephine, "and we beg to keep the purse as asouvenir of one who tried to do us a kindness without mortifying us. Andnow, Monsieur Riviere, you will permit us to bid you adieu."

  Edouard was obliged to take the hint. "It is I who am the intruder,"said he. "Mesdemoiselles, conceive, if you can, my pride and mydisappointment." He then bowed low; they courtesied low to him inreturn; and he retired slowly in a state of mixed feeling indescribable.

  With all their sweetness and graciousness, he felt overpowered by theirhigh breeding, their reserve, and their composure, in a situation thathad set his heart beating itself nearly out of his bosom. He acted thescene over again, only much more adroitly, and concocted speeches forpast use, and was very hot and very cold by turns.

  I wish he could have heard what passed between the sisters as soon asever he was out of earshot. It would have opened his eyes, and given hima little peep into what certain writers call "the sex."

  "Poor boy," murmured Josephine, "he has gone away unhappy."

  "Oh, I dare say he hasn't gone far," replied Rose, gayly. "I shouldn'tif I was a boy."

  Josephine held up her finger like an elder sister; then went on to sayshe really hardly knew why she had dismissed him.

  "Well, dear," said Rose, dryly, "since you admit so much, I must say Icouldn't help thinking--while you were doing it--we were letting 'thepoor boy' off ridiculously cheap."

  "At least I did my duty?" suggested Josephine, inquiringly.

  "Magnificently; you overawed even me. So now to business, as thegentlemen say. Which of us two takes him?"

  "Takes whom?" inquired Josephine, opening her lovely eyes.

  "Edouard," murmured Rose, lowering hers.

  Josephine glared on the lovely minx with wonder and comical horror.

  "Oh! you shall have him," said Rose, "if you like. You are the eldest,you know."

  "Fie!"

  "Do now; TO OBLIGE ME."

  "For shame! Rose. Is this you? talking like that!"

  "Oh! there's no compulsion, dear; I never force young ladies'inclinations. So you decline him?"

  "Of course I decline him."

  "Then, oh, you dear, darling Josephine, this is the prettiest presentyou ever made me," and she kissed her vehemently.

  Josephine was frightened now. She held Rose out at arm's length withboth hands, and looked earnestly into her, and implored her not to playwith fire. "Take warning by me."

  Rose recommended her to keep her pity for Monsieur Riviere, "who hadfallen into nice hands," she said. That no doubt might remain on thathead, she whispered mysteriously, but with much gravity and conviction,"I am an Imp;" and aimed at Josephine with her forefinger to point theremark. For one second she stood and watched this important statementsink into her sister's mind, then set-to and gambolled elfishly roundher as she moved stately and thoughtful across the grass to the chateau.

  Two days after this a large tree was blown down in Beaurepaire park,and made quite a gap in the prospect. You never know what a big thing aleafy tree is till it comes down. And this ill wind blew Edouard good;for it laid bare the chateau to his inquiring telescope. He had notgazed above half an hour, when a female figure emerged from the chateau.His heart beat. It was only Jacintha. He saw her look this way and that,and presently Dard appeared, and she sent him with his axe to the fallentree. Edouard watched him hacking away at it. Presently his heart gave aviolent leap; for why? two ladies emerged from the Pleasaunce and walkedacross the park. They came up to Dard, and stood looking at the tree andDard hacking it, and Edouard watched them greedily. You know we all loveto magnify her we love. And this was a delightful way of doing it. Itis "a system of espionage" that prevails under every form of government.How he gazed, and gazed, on his now polar star; studied every turn,every gesture, with eager delight, and tried to gather what she said, orat least the nature of it.

  But by and by they left Dard and strolled towards the other end of thepark. Then did our astronomer fling down his tube, and come running outin hopes of intercepting them, and seeming to meet them by some strangefortuity. Hope whispered he should be blessed with a smile; perhapsa word even. So another minute and he was running up the road toBeaurepaire. But his good heart was doomed to be diverted to a muchhumbler object than his idol; as he came near the fallen tree he heardloud cries for help, followed by groans of pain. He bounded over thehedge, and there was Dard hanging over his axe, moaning. "What is thematter? what is the matter?" cried Edouard, running to him.

  "Oh! oh! cut my foot. Oh!"

  Edouard looked, and turned sick, for there was a gash right throughDard's shoe, and the blood welling up through it. But, recoveringhimself by an effort of the will, he cried out, "Courage, my lad!don't give in. Thank Heaven there's no artery there. Oh, dear, it isa terrible cut! Let us get you home, that is the first thing. Can youwalk?"

  "Lord bless you, no! nor stand neither without help."

  Edouard flew to the wheelbarrow, and, reversing it, spun a lot of billetout. "Ye must not do that," said Dard with all the energy he was capableof in his present condition. "Why, that is Jacintha's wood."--"To thedevil with Jacintha and her wood too!" cried Edouard, "a man is worthmore than a fagot. Come, I shall wheel you home: it is only just acrossthe park."

  With some difficulty he lifted him into the barrow. Luckily he had hisshooting-jacket on with a brandy-flask in it: he administered it withexcellent effect.

  The ladies, as they walked, saw a man wheeling a barrow across the park,and took no particular notice; but, as Riviere was making for the samepoint they were, though at another angle, presently the barrow came nearenough for them to see Dard's head and arms in it. Rose was the first tonotice this. "Look! look! if he is not wheeling Dard in the barrow now."

  "Who?"

  "Can you ask? Who provides all our excitement?"

  Josephine instantly divined there was something amiss. "Consider," saidshe, "Monsieur Riviere would not wheel Dard all across the park foramusement."

  Rose assented; and in another minute, by a strange caprice of fate,those Edouard had come to intercept, quickened their pace to intercepthim. As soon as he saw their intention he thrilled all over, but did notslacken his pace. He told Dard to take his coat and throw it over hisfoot, for here were the young ladies coming.

  "What for?" said Dard sulkily. "No! let them see what they have donewith their little odd jobs: this is my last for one while. I sha'n't goon two legs again this year."

  The ladies came up with them.

  "O monsieur!" said Josephine, "what is the matter?"

  "We have met with a little accident, mademoiselle, that is all. Dard
hashurt his foot; nothing to speak of, but I thought he would be best athome."

  Rose raised the coat which Riviere, in spite of Dard, had flung over hisfoot.

  "He is bleeding! Dard is bleeding! Oh, my poor Dard. Oh! oh!"

  "Hush, Rose!"

  "No, don't put him out of heart, mademoiselle. Take another pull at theflask, Dard. If you please, ladies, I must have him home without delay."

  "Oh yes, but I want him to have a surgeon," cried Josephine. "And wehave no horses nor people to send off as we used to have."

  "But you have me, mademoiselle," said Edouard tenderly. "Me, who wouldgo to the world's end for you." He said this to Josephine, but his eyesought Rose. "I'm a famous runner," he added, a little bumptiously;"I'll be at the town in half an hour, and send a surgeon up fullgallop."

  "You have a good heart," said Rose simply.

  He bowed his blushing, delighted face, and wheeled Dard to his cottagehard by with almost more than mortal vigor. How softly, how nobly, thatfrolicsome girl could speak! Those sweet words rang in his ears and ranwarm round and round his heart, as he straightened his arms and his backto the work. When they had gone about a hundred yards, a single snivelwent off in the wheelbarrow. Five minutes after, Dard was at home incharge of his grandmother, his shoe off, his foot in a wet linen cloth;and Edouard, his coat tied round the neck, squared his shoulders, andran the two short leagues out. He ran them in forty minutes, found thesurgeon at home, told the case, pooh-poohed that worthy's promise togo to the patient presently, darted into his stable, saddled the horse,brought him round, saw the surgeon into the saddle, started him, dinedat the restaurateur's, strolled back, and was in time to get a good lookat the chateau of Beaurepaire just as the sun set on it.

  Jacintha came into Dard's cottage that evening.

  "So you have been at it, my man," cried she cheerfully and ratherroughly, then sat down and rocked herself, with her apron over her head.She explained this anomalous proceeding to his grandmother privately. "Ithought I would keep his heart up anyway, but you see I was not fit."

  Next morning, as Riviere sat writing, he received an unexpected visitfrom Jacintha. She came in with her finger to her lips, and said, "Youprowl about Dard's cottage. They are sure to go and see him every day,and him wounded in their service."

  "Oh, you good girl! you dear girl!" cried Edouard.

  She did not reply in words, but, after going to the door, returned andgave him a great kiss without ceremony. "Dare say you know what that'sfor," said she, and went off with a clear conscience and reddish cheeks.

  Dard's grandmother had a little house, a little land, a little money,and a little cow. She could just maintain Dard and herself, and herresources enabled Dard to do so many little odd jobs for love, yet keephis main organ tolerably filled.

  "Go to bed, my little son, since you have got hashed," said she.--"Bedbe hanged," cried he. "What good is bed? That's a silly old custom wantsdoing away with. It weakens you: it turns you into train oil: it is thedoctor's friend, and the sick man's bane. Many a one dies through takingto bed, that could have kept his life if he had kept his feet like aman. If I had cut myself in two I would not go to bed,--till I go to thebed with a spade in it. No! sit up like Julius Caesar; and die as youlived, in your clothes: don't strip yourself: let the old women stripyou; that is their delight laying out a chap; that is the time theybrighten up, the old sorceresses." He concluded this amiable rhapsody,the latter part of which was levelled at a lugubrious weakness of hisgrandmother's for the superfluous embellishment of the dead, by tellingher it was bad enough to be tied by the foot like an ass, withoutsettling down on his back like a cast sheep. "Give me the armchair. I'llsit in it, and, if I have any friends, they will show it now: they willcome and tell me what is going on in the village, for I can't get out tosee it and hear it, they must know that."

  Seated in state in his granny's easy-chair, the loss of which afterthirty years' use made her miserable, she couldn't tell why, le SieurDard awaited his friends.

  They did not come.

  The rain did, and poured all the afternoon. Night succeeded, andsolitude. Dard boiled over with bitterness. "They are a lot of pigsthen, all those fellows I have drunk with at Bigot's and Simmet's. Downwith all fair-weather friends."

  The next day the sun shone, the air was clear, and the sky blue. "Ah!let us see now," cried Dard.

  Alas! no fellow-drinkers, no fellow-smokers, came to console their hurtfellow. And Dard, who had boiled with anger yesterday, was now sad anddespondent. "Down with egotists," he groaned.

  About three in the afternoon came a tap at the door.

  "Ah! at last," cried Dard: "come in!"

  The door was slowly opened, and two lovely faces appeared at thethreshold. The demoiselles De Beaurepaire wore a tender look ofinterest and pity when they caught sight of Dard, and on the old womancourtesying to them they courtesied to her and Dard. The next momentthey were close to him, one a little to his right, the other to hisleft, and two pair of sapphire eyes with the mild lustre of sympathyplaying down incessantly upon him. How was he? How had he slept? Was hein pain? Was he in much pain? tell the truth now. Was there anything toeat or drink he could fancy? Jacintha should make it and bring it, ifit was within their means. A prince could not have had more solicitousattendants, nor a fairy king lovelier and less earthly ones.

  He looked in heavy amazement from one to the other. Rose bent, and wasby some supple process on one knee, taking the measure of the woundedfoot. When she first approached it he winced: but the next moment hesmiled. He had never been touched like this--it was contact and nocontact--she treated his foot as the zephyr the violets--she handledit as if it had been some sacred thing. By the help of his eye hecould just know she was touching him. Presently she informed him hewas measured for a list shoe: and she would run home for the materials.During her absence came a timid tap to the door; and Edouard Riviereentered. He was delighted to see Josephine, and made sure Rose was notfar off. It was Dard who let out that she was gone to Beaurepaire forsome cloth to make him a shoe. This information set Edouard fidgetingon his chair. He saw such a chance as was not likely to occur again. Herose with feigned nonchalance, and saying, "I leave you in good hands;angel visitors are best enjoyed alone," slowly retired, with a deepobeisance. Once outside the door, dignity vanished in alacrity; he flewoff into the park, and ran as hard as he could towards the chateau.He was within fifty yards of the little gate, when sure enough Roseemerged. They met; his heart beat violently. "Mademoiselle," hefaltered.

  "Ah! it is Monsieur Riviere, I declare," said Rose, coolly; all overblushes though.

  "Yes, mademoiselle, and I am so out of breath. Mademoiselle Josephineawaits you at Dard's house."

  "She sent you for me?" inquired Rose, demurely.

  "Not positively. But I could see I should please her by coming for you;there is, I believe, a bull or so about."

  "A bull or two! don't talk in that reckless way about such things. Shehas done well to send you; let us make haste."

  "But I am a little out of breath."

  "Oh, never mind that! I abhor bulls."

  "But, mademoiselle, we are not come to them yet, and the faster we gonow the sooner we shall."

  "Yes; but I always like to get a disagreeable thing over as soon aspossible," said Rose, slyly.

  "Ah," replied Edouard, mournfully, "in that case let us make haste."

  After a little spurt, mademoiselle relaxed the pace of her own accord,and even went slower than before. There was an awkward silence. Edouardeyed the park boundary, and thought, "Now what I have to say I must saybefore we get to you;" and being thus impressed with the necessity ofimmediate action, he turned to lead.

  Rose eyed him and the ground, alternately, from under her long lashes.

  At last he began to color and flutter. She saw something was coming, andall the woman donned defensive armor.

  "Mademoiselle."

  "Monsieur."

  "Is it quite decided that your family refuse m
y acquaintance, myservices, which I still--forgive me--press on you? Ah! MademoiselleRose, am I never to have the happiness of--of--even speaking to you?"

  "It seems so," said Rose, ironically.

  "Have you then decided against me too?"

  "I?" asked Rose. "What have I to do with questions of etiquette? I amonly a child: so considered at least."

  "You a child--an angel like you?"

  "Ask any of them, they will tell you I am a child; and it is to that Iowe this conversation, no doubt; if you did not look on me as a child,you would not take this liberty with me," said the young cat, scratchingwithout a moment's notice.

  "Mademoiselle, do not be angry. I was wrong."

  "Oh! never mind. Children are little creatures without reserve, andtreated accordingly, and to notice them is to honor them."

  "Adieu then, mademoiselle. Try to believe no one respects you more thanI do."

  "Yes, let us part, for there is Dard's house; and I begin to suspectthat Josephine never sent you."

  "I confess it."

  "There, he confesses it. I thought so all along; WHAT A DUPE I HAVEBEEN!"

  "I will offend no more," said poor silly Edouard. "Adieu, mademoiselle.May you find friends as sincere as I am, and more to your taste!"

  "Heaven hear your prayers!" replied the malicious thing, casting up hereyes with a mock tragic air.

  Edouard sighed; a chill conviction that she was both heartless and emptyfell on him. He turned away without another word. She called to himwith a sudden airy cheerfulness that made him start. "Stay, monsieur, Iforgot--I have a favor to ask you."

  "I wish I could believe that:" and his eyes brightened.

  Rose stopped, and began to play with her parasol. "You seem," saidshe softly, "to be pretty generous in bestowing your acquaintance onstrangers. I should be glad if I might secure you for a dear friend ofmine, Dr. Aubertin. He will not discredit my recommendation; and he willnot make so many difficulties as we do; shall I tell you why? Becausehe is really worth knowing. In short, believe me, it will be a valuableacquaintance for you--and for him," added she with all the grace of theDe Beaurepaires.

  Many a man, inferior in a general way to Edouard Riviere, would havemade a sensible reply to this. Such as, "Oh, any friend of yours,mademoiselle, must be welcome to me," or the like. But the proposalcaught Edouard on his foible, his vanity, to wit; and our foibles areour manias. He was mortified to the heart's core. "She refuses to knowme herself," thought he, "but she will use my love to make me amuse thatold man." His heart swelled against her injustice and ingratitude,and his crushed vanity turned to strychnine. "Mademoiselle," said he,bitterly and doggedly, but sadly, "were I so happy as to have youresteem, my heart would overflow, not only on the doctor but on everyhonest person around. But if I must not have the acquaintance I valuemore than life, suffer me to be alone in the world, and never to say aword either to Dr. Aubertin, or to any human creature if I can help it."

  The imperious young beauty drew herself up directly. "So be it,monsieur; you teach me how a child should be answered that forgetsherself, and asks a favor of a stranger--a perfect stranger," added she,maliciously.

  Could one of the dog-days change to mid-winter in a second, it wouldhardly seem so cold and cross as Rose de Beaurepaire turned from thesmiling, saucy fairy of the moment before. Edouard felt as it were aportcullis of ice come down between her and him. She courtesied andglided away. He bowed and stood frozen to the spot.

  He felt so lonely and so bitter, he must go to Jacintha for comfort.

  He took advantage of the ladies being with Dard, and marched boldly intothe kitchen of Beaurepaire.

  "Well, I never," cried Jacintha. "But, after all, why not?"

  He hurled himself on the kitchen table (clean as china), and told her itwas all over. "She hates me now; but it is not my fault," and so pouredforth his tale, and feeling sure of sympathy, asked Jacintha whether itwas not bitterly unjust of Rose to refuse him her own acquaintance, yetask him to amuse that old fogy.

  Jacintha stood with her great arms akimbo, taking it all in, and lookingat him with a droll expression of satirical wonder.

  "Now you listen to a parable," said she. "Once there was a little boymadly in love with raspberry jam."

  "A thing I hate."

  "Don't tell me! Who hates raspberry jam? He came to the store closet,where he knew there were jars of it, and--oh! misery--the door waslocked. He kicked the door, and wept bitterly. His mamma came and said,'Here is the key,' and gave him the key. And what did he do? Why,he fell to crying and roaring, and kicking the door. 'I don'twa-wa-wa-wa-nt the key-ey-ey. I wa-a-ant the jam--oh! oh! oh! oh!'"and Jacintha mimicked, after her fashion, the mingled grief and ire ofinfancy debarred its jam. Edouard wore a puzzled air, but it was onlyfor a moment; the next he hid his face in his hands, and cried, "Fool!"

  "I shall not contradict you," said his Mentor.

  "She was my best friend. Once acquainted with the doctor, I could visitat Beaurepaire."

  "Parbleu!"

  "She had thought of a way to reconcile my wishes with this terribleetiquette that reigns here."

  "She thinks to more purpose than you do; that is clear."

  "Nothing is left now but to ask her pardon, and to consent; I am off."

  "No, you are not," and Jacintha laid a grasp of iron on him. "Will yoube quiet?--is not one blunder a day enough? If you go near her now, shewill affront you, and order the doctor not to speak to you."

  "O Jacintha! your sex then are fiends of malice?"

  "While it lasts. Luckily with us nothing lasts very long. Now you don'tgo near her till you have taken advantage of her hint, and made thedoctor's acquaintance; that is easy done. He walks two hours on the eastroad every day, with his feet in the puddles and his head in the clouds.Them's HIS two tastes."

  "But how am I to get him out of the clouds and the puddles?" inquiredRiviere half peevishly.

  "How?" asked Jacintha, with a dash of that contempt uneducated personsgenerally have for any one who does not know some little thing theyhappen to know themselves. "How? Why, with the nearest blackbeetle, tobe sure."

  "A blackbeetle?"

  "Black or brown; it matters little. Have her ready for use in yourhandkerchief: pull a long face: and says you--'Excuse me, sir, I haveTHE MISFORTUNE not to know the Greek name of this merchandise here.' Saythat, and behold him launched. He will christen you the beast in Hebrewand Latin as well as Greek, and tell you her history down from theflood: next he will beg her of you, and out will come a cork and a pin,and behold the creature impaled. For that is how men love beetles. Hehas a thousand pinned down at home--beetles, butterflies, and so forth.When I go near the rubbish with my duster he trembles like an aspen.I pretend to be going to clean them, but it is only to see the face hemakes, for even a domestic must laugh now and then--or die. But I neverdo clean them, for after all he is more stupid than wicked, poor man: Ihave not therefore the sad courage to make him wretched."

  "Let us return to our beetle--what will his tirades about its antiquityadvance me?"

  "Oh! one begins about a beetle, but one ends Heaven knows where."

  Riviere profited by this advice. He even improved on it. In duecourse he threw himself into Aubertin's way. He stopped the doctorreverentially, and said he had heard he was an entomologist. WOULD hebe kind enough to tell him what was this enormous chrysalis he had justfound?

  "The death's head moth!" cried Aubertin with enthusiasm--"the death'shead moth! a great rarity in this district. Where found you this?"Riviere undertook to show him the place.

  It was half a league distant. Coming and going he had time to makefriends with Aubertin, and this was the easier that the old gentleman,who was a physiognomist as well as ologist, had seen goodness andsensibility in Edouard's face. At the end of the walk he begged thedoctor to accept the chrysalis. The doctor coquetted. "That would be arobbery. You take an interest in these things yourself--at least I hopeso."

  The young rogue confessed modestly
to the sentiment of entomology, but"the government worked him so hard as to leave him no hopes of shiningin so high a science," said he sorrowfully.

  The doctor pitied him. "A young man of your attainments and tastes tobe debarred from the everlasting secrets of nature, by the fleetingpolitics of the day."

  Riviere shrugged his shoulders. "Somebody must do the dirty work," saidhe, chuckling inwardly.

  The chrysalis went to Beaurepaire in the pocket of a grateful man,who that same evening told the whole party his conversation withyoung Riviere, on whom he pronounced high encomiums. Rose's saucy eyessparkled with fun: you might have lighted a candle at one and exploded amine at the other; but not a syllable did she utter.

  The doctor proved a key, and opened the enchanted castle. One fineday he presented his friend in the Pleasaunce to the baroness and herdaughters.

  They received him with perfect politeness. Thus introduced, and as hewas not one to let the grass grow under his feet, he soon obtained afooting as friend of the family, which, being now advised by Josephine,he took care not to compromise by making love to Rose before thebaroness. However, he insisted on placing his financial talent at theirservice. He surveyed and valued their lands, and soon discovered thatall their farms were grossly underlet. Luckily most of the leases wererun out. He prepared a new rent roll, and showed it Aubertin, now hisfast friend. Aubertin at his request obtained a list of the mortgages,and Edouard drew a balance-sheet founded on sure data, and proved to thebaroness that in able hands the said estate was now solvent.

  This was a great comfort to the old lady: and she said to Aubertin,"Heaven has sent us a champion, a little republican--with the face of anangel."

  Descending to practice, Edouard actually put three of the farms intothe market, and let them at an advance of twenty per cent on the expiredleases. He brought these leases signed; and the baroness had scarcelydone thanking him, when her other secret friend, Monsieur Perrin, wasannounced. Edouard exchanged civilities with him, and then retired tothe Pleasaunce. There he found both sisters, who were all tenderness andgratitude to him. By this time he had learned to value Josephine: shewas so lovely and so good, and such a true womanly friend to him. EvenRose could not resist her influence, and was obliged to be kind to him,when Josephine was by. But let Josephine go, and instead of her beingmore tender, as any other girl would, left alone with her lover,sauciness resumed its empire till sweet Josephine returned. Whereofcometh an example; for the said Josephine was summoned to a finalconference with the baroness and Monsieur Perrin.

  "Don't be long," said Rose, as Josephine glided away, and (taking theprecaution to wait till she was quite out of hearing), "I shall be sodull, dear, till you come back."

  "I shall not though," said Edouard.

  "I am not so sure of that. Now then."

  "Now then, what?"

  "Begin."

  "Begin what?"

  "Amusing me." And she made herself look sullen and unamusable all over.

  "I will try," said Riviere. "I'll tell you what they say of you: thatyou are too young to love."

  "So I am, much."

  "No, no, no! I made a mistake. I mean too young to be loved."

  "Oh, I am not too young for that, not a bit."

  This point settled, she suggested that, if he could not amuse her, hehad better do THE NEXT BEST THING, and that was, talk sense.

  "I think I had better not talk at all," said he, "for I am no matchfor such a nimble tongue. And then you are so remorseless. I'll hold mytongue, and make a sketch of this magnificent oak."

  "Ay, do: draw it as it appeared on a late occasion: with two ladiesflying out of it, and you rooted with dismay."

  "There is no need; that scene is engraved."

  "Where? in all the shops?"

  "No; on all our memories."

  "Not on mine; not on mine. How terrified you were--ha, ha! and howterrified we should have been if you had not. Listen: once upon atime--don't be alarmed: it was long after Noah--a frightened hare ran bya pond; the frogs splashed in the water, smit with awe. Then she said,'Ah ha! there are people in the world I frighten in my turn; I am thethunderbolt of war.' Excuse my quoting La Fontaine: I am not in 'Charlesthe Twelfth of Sweden' yet. I am but a child."

  "And it's a great mercy, for when you grow up, you will be too muchfor me, that is evident. Come, then, Mademoiselle the Quizzer, come andadorn my sketch."

  "Monsieur, shall I make you a confession? You will not be angry: I couldnot support your displeasure. I have a strange inclination to walkup and down this terrace while you go and draw that tree in thePleasaunce."

  "Resist that inclination; perhaps it will fly from you."

  "No; you fly from me, and draw. I will rejoin you in a few minutes."

  "Thank you, I'm not so stupid. You will step indoors directly."

  "Do you doubt my word, sir?" asked she haughtily.

  He had learned to obey all her caprices; so he went and placed himselfon the west side of the oak and took out his sketch-book, and workedzealously and rapidly. He had done the outlines of the tree and wasfinishing in detail a part of the huge trunk, when his eyes weresuddenly dazzled: in the middle of the rugged bark, deformed here andthere with great wart-like bosses, and wrinkled, seamed, and ploughedall over with age, burst a bit of variegated color; bright as a poppy ona dungeon wall, it glowed and glittered out through a large hole in thebrown bark; it was Rose's face peeping. To our young lover's eye howdivine it shone! None of the half tints of common flesh were there,but a thing all rose, lily, sapphire, and soul. His pencil dropped, hismouth opened, he was downright dazzled by the glowing, bewitching face,sparkling with fun, in the gaunt tree. Tell me, ladies, did she know,even at that age, the value of that sombre frame to her brightness? Themoment she found herself detected, the gaunt old tree rang musical witha crystal laugh, and out came the arch-dryad. "I have been there all thetime. How solemn you looked! Now for the result of such profound study."He showed her his work; she altered her tone. "Oh, how clever!" shecried, "and how rapid! What a facility you have! Monsieur is an artist,"said she gravely; "I will be more respectful," and she dropped him a lowcourtesy. "Mind you promised it me," she added sharply.

  "You will accept it, then?"

  "That I will, now it is worth having: dear me, I never reckoned on that.Finish it directly," cried this peremptory young person.

  "First I must trouble you to stand out there near the tree."

  "Me? what for?"

  "Because art loves contrasts. The tree is a picture of age and gradualdecay; by its side then I must place a personification of youth andgrowing loveliness."

  She did not answer, but made a sort of defiant pirouette, and went whereshe was bid, and stood there with her back to the artist. "That willnever do," said he; "you really must be so good as to turn round."

  "Oh, very well." And when she came round, behold her color had risenmightily. Flattery is sweet.

  This child of nature was delighted, and ashamed it should be seen thatshe was.

  And so he drew her, and kept looking off the paper at her, and had aright in his character of artist to look her full in the face; and hedid so with long lingering glances. To be sure, they all began severeand businesslike with half-closed eyes, and the peculiar hostileexpression art puts on; but then they always ended open-eyed, and sofull and tender, that she, poor girl, who was all real gold, though shambrass, blushed and blushed, and did not know which way to look not tobe scorched up by his eye like a tender flower, or blandly absorbed likethe pearly dew. Ah, happy hour! ah, happy days of youth and innocenceand first love!

  Trouble loves to intrude on these halcyon days.

  The usually quiet Josephine came flying from the house, pale andagitated, and clung despairingly to Rose, and then fell to sobbing andlamenting piteously.

  I shall take leave to relate in my own words what had just occurredto agitate her so. When she entered her mother's room, she found thebaroness and Perrin the notary seated watching for her. She sat
downafter the usual civilities, and Perrin entered upon the subject that hadbrought him.

  He began by confessing to them that he had not overcome the refractorycreditor without much trouble; and that he had since learned there wasanother, a larger creditor, likely to press for payment or for sale ofthe estate. The baroness was greatly troubled by this communication: thenotary remained cool as a cucumber, and keenly observant. After a pausehe went on to say all this had caused him grave reflections. "It seems,"said he with cool candor, "a sad pity the estate should pass from afamily that has held it since the days of Charlemagne."

  "Now God forbid!" cried the baroness, lifting her eyes and her quiveringhands to heaven.

  The notary held the republican creed in all its branches. "Providence,madame, does not interfere--in matters of business," said he. "Nothingbut money can save the estate. Let us then be practical. Has any meansoccurred to you of raising money to pay off these incumbrances?"

  "No. What means can there be? The estate is mortgaged to its full value:so they say, at least."

  "And they say true," put in the notary quickly. "But do not distressyourself, madame: confide in me."

  "Ah, my good friend, may Heaven reward you."

  "Madame, up to the present time I have no complaint to make of Heaven.I am on the rise: here, mademoiselle, is a gimcrack they have given me;"and he unbuttoned his overcoat, and showed them a piece of tricoloredribbon and a clasp. "As for me, I look to 'the solid;' I care little forthese things," said he, swelling visibly, "but the world is dazzled bythem. However, I can show you something better." He took out a letter."This is from the Minister of the Interior to a client of mine: apromise I shall be the next prefect; and the present prefect--I am happyto say--is on his death-bed. Thus, madame, your humble servant in a fewshort months will be notary no longer, but prefect; I shall then sell myoffice of notary: and I flatter myself when I am a prefect you will notblush to own me."

  "Then, as now, monsieur," said the baroness politely, "we shallrecognize your merit. But"--

  "I understand, madame: like me you look to 'the solid.' Thus then it is;I have money."

  "Ah! all the better for you."

  "I have a good deal of money. But it is dispersed in a great many smallbut profitable investments: to call it in suddenly would entail someloss. Nevertheless, if you and my young lady there have ever so littleof that friendly feeling towards me of which I have so much towards you,all my investments shall be called in, and two-thirds of your creditorsshall be paid off at once. A single client of mine, no less a man thanthe Commandant Raynal, will, I am sure, advance me the remaining thirdat an hour's notice; and so Beaurepaire chateau, park, estate, andgrounds, down to the old oak-tree, shall be saved; and no power shallalienate them from you, mademoiselle, and from the heirs of your body."

  The baroness clasped her hands in ecstasy.

  "But what are we to do for this?" inquired Josephine calmly, "for itseems to me that it can only be effected by a sacrifice on your part."

  "I thank you, mademoiselle, for your penetration in seeing that I mustmake sacrifices. I would never have told you, but you have seen it;and I do not regret that you have seen it. Madame--mademoiselle--thosesacrifices appear little to me; will seem nothing; will never bementioned, or even alluded to after this day, if you, on your part, willlay me under a far heavier obligation, if in short"--here the contemnerof things unsubstantial reopened his coat, and brought his ribbon tolight again--"if you, madame, will accept me for your son-in-law--ifyou, mademoiselle, will take me for your husband."

  The baroness and her daughter looked at one another in silence.

  "Is it a jest?" inquired the former of the latter.

  "Can you think so? Answer Monsieur Perrin. He has just done us a kindoffice, mother."

  "I shall remember it. Monsieur, permit me to regret that having latelywon our gratitude and esteem, you have taken this way of modifying thosefeelings. But after all," she added with gentle courtesy, "we may wellput your good deeds against this--this error in judgment. The balance isin your favor still, provided you never return to this topic. Come,is it agreed?" The baroness's manner was full of tact, and the lattersentences were said with an open kindliness of manner. There was nothingto prevent Perrin from dropping the subject, and remaining good friends.A gentleman or a lover would have so done. Monsieur Perrin was neither.He said bitterly, "You refuse me, then."

  The tone and the words were each singly too much for the baroness'spride. She answered coldly but civilly,--

  "I do not refuse you. I do not take an affront into consideration."

  "Be calm, mamma; no affront whatever was intended."

  "Ah! here is one that is more reasonable," cried Perrin.

  "There are men," continued Josephine without noticing him, "who lookto but one thing--interest. It was an offer made politely in the way ofbusiness: decline it in the same spirit; that is what you have to do."

  "Monsieur, you hear what mademoiselle says? She carries politenessa long way. After all it is a good fault. Well, monsieur, I need notanswer you, since Mademoiselle de Beaurepaire has answered you; but Idetain you no longer."

  Strictly a weasel has no business with the temper of a tiger, but thisone had, and the long vindictiveness of a Corsican. "Ah! my little lady,you turn me out of the house, do you?" cried he, grinding his teeth.

  "Turn him out of the house? what a phrase! where has this man lived?"

  "A man!" snarled Perrin, "whom none ever yet insulted without repentingit, and repenting in vain. You are under obligations to me, and youthink to turn me out! You are at my mercy, and you think I will let youturn me to your door! In less than a mouth I will stand here, and say toyou, Beaurepaire is mine. Begone from it!"

  When he uttered these terrible words, each of which was like asword-stroke to the baroness, the old lady, whose courage was notequal to her strength, shrank over the side of her arm-chair, and criedpiteously--"He threatens me! he threatens me! I am frightened;" and putup her trembling hands, for the notary's eloquence, being accompaniedwith abundance of gesture, bordered upon physical violence. Hisbrutality received an unexpected check. Imagine that a sparrow-hawk hadseized a trembling pigeon, and that a royal falcon swooped, and with onelightning-like stroke of body and wing, buffeted him away, and sent himgaping and glaring and grasping at pigeonless air with his claws. Soswift and majestic, Josephine de Beaurepaire came from her chair withone gesture of her body between her mother and the notary, who wasadvancing with arms folded in a brutal, menacing way--not the Josephinewe have seen her, the calm languid beauty, but the demoiselle deBeaurepaire--her great heart on fire--her blood up--not her own only,but all the blood of all the De Beaurepaires--pale as ashes with greatwrath, her purple eyes on fire, and her whole panther-like body fullof spring. "Wretch! you dare to insult her, and before me! Arrieremiserable! or I soil my hand with your face." And her hand was up withthe word, up, up, higher it seemed than ever a hand was raised before.And if he had hesitated one moment, I really believe it would have comedown; not heavily, perhaps--the lightning is not heavy. But there wasno need. The towering threat and the flaming eye and the swift rushbuffeted the caitiff away: he recoiled. She followed him as he went,strong, FOR A MOMENT OR TWO, as Hercules, beautiful and terrible asMichael driving Satan. He dared not, or could not stand before her: hewrithed and cowered and recoiled all down the room, while she marchedupon him. But the driven serpent hissed horribly as it wriggled away.

  "You shall both be turned out of Beaurepaire by me, and forever; I swearit, parole de Perrin."

  He had not been gone a minute when Josephine's courage oozed away,and she ran, or rather tottered, into the Pleasaunce, and clung like adrowning thing to Rose, and, when Edouard took her hand, she clung tohim. They had to gather what had happened how they could: the accountwas constantly interrupted with her sobs and self-reproaches. She saidshe had ruined all she loved: ruined her sister, ruined her mother,ruined the house of Beaurepaire. Why was she ever born? Why had shenot died
three years ago? (Query, what was the date at which Camille'sletters suddenly stopped?) "That coward," said she, "has the heart of afiend. He told us he never forgave an affront; and he holds our fatein his hands. He will drive our mother from her home, and she will die:murdered by her own daughter. After all, why did I refuse him? Whatshould I have sacrificed by marrying him? Rose, write to him, andsay--say--I was taken by surprise, I--I"--a violent flood of tearsinterrupted the sentence.

  Rose flung her arms round her neck. "My beautiful Josephine marry thatcreature? Let house and lands go a thousand times sooner. I love mysister a thousand times better than the walls of this or any otherhouse."

  "Come, come," cried Edouard, "you are forgetting ME all this time. Doyou really think I am the sort of man to stand by with my hands inmy pockets, and let her marry that cur, or you be driven out ofBeaurepaire? Neither, while I live."

  "Alas! dear boy," sighed Josephine, "what can you do?"

  "I'll soon show you. From this hour forth it is a duel between thatPerrin and me. Now, Josephine--Rose--don't you cry and fret like that:but just look quietly on, and enjoy the fight, both of you."

  Josephine shook her head with a sad smile: but Rose delivered herselfthus, after a sob, "La, yes; I forgot: we have got a gentleman now;that's one comfort."

  Edouard rose to the situation: he saw that Perrin would lose no time;and that every day, or even hour, might be precious. He told them thatthe first thing he must do for them was to leave the company he lovedbest on earth, and run down to the town to consult Picard the rivalnotary: he would be back by supper-time, when he hoped they would dohim the honor, in a matter of such importance, to admit him to a familycouncil.

  Josephine assented with perfect simplicity; Rose with a deep blush, forshe was too quick not to see all the consequences of admitting so briska wooer into a family council.

  It was a wet evening, and a sad and silent party sat round a wood firein the great dining-hall. The baroness was almost prostrated by thescene with Perrin; and a sombre melancholy and foreboding weighed onall their spirits, when presently Edouard Riviere entered briskly, andsaluted them all profoundly, and opened the proceedings with a littlefavorite pomposity. "Madame the baroness, and you Monsieur Aubertin, whohonor me with your esteem, and you Mademoiselle de Beaurepaire, whom Iadore, and you Mademoiselle Rose, whom I hoped to be permitted--you havethis day done me the honor to admit me as your adviser. I am here tolay my plans before you. I believe, madame, I have already convincedyou that your farms are under-let, and your property lowered in value bygeneral mismanagement; this was doubtless known to Perrin, and set himscheming. Well, I rely on the same circumstance to defeat him. I haveconsulted Picard and shown him the rent-roll and balance-sheet I hadalready shown you. He has confessed that the estate is worth morethan its debts, so capitalists can safely advance the money. To-morrowmorning, then, I ride to Commandant Raynal for a week's leave ofabsence; then, armed with Picard's certificate, shall proceed to myuncle and ask him to lend the money. His estate is very small comparedwith Beaurepaire, but he has always farmed it himself. 'I'll have nogo-between,' says he, 'to impoverish both self and soil.' He is also abit of a misanthrope, and has made me one. I have a very poor opinion ofmy fellow-creatures, very."

  "Well, but," said Rose, "if he is all that, he will not sympathize withus, who have so mismanaged Beaurepaire. Will he not despise us?"

  Edouard was a little staggered, but Aubertin came to his aid.

  "Permit me, Josephine," said he. "Natural history steps in here, andteaches by me, its mouth-piece. A misanthrope hates all mankind, but iskind to every individual, generally too kind. A philanthrope loves thewhole human race, but dislikes his wife, his mother, his brother, andhis friends and acquaintances. Misanthrope is the potato: rough andrepulsive outside, but good to the core. Philanthrope is a peach: hismanner all velvet and bloom, his words sweet juice, his heart of heartsa stone. Let me read Philanthrope's book, and fall into the hands ofMisanthrope."

  Edouard admitted the shrewdness of this remark.

  "And so," said he, "my misanthrope will say plenty of bitingwords,--which, by-the-by, will not hurt you, who will not hear them,only me,--and then he'll lend us the money, and Beaurepaire will befree, and I shall have had a hand in it. Hurrah!"

  Then came a delicious hour to Edouard Riviere. Young and old poured outtheir glowing thanks and praises upon him till his checks burned likefire.

  The baroness was especially grateful, and expressed a gentle regret thatshe could see no way of showing her gratitude except in words. "What canwe do for this little angel?" said she, turning to Josephine.

  "Leave that to me, mamma," replied Josephine, turning her lovely eyesfull on Edouard, with a look the baroness misunderstood directly.

  She sat and watched Josephine and Edouard with comical severity all therest of the time she was there; and, when she retired, she kissed Roseaffectionately, but whispered her eldest daughter, "I hope you are notserious. A mere boy compared with you."

  "But such a sweet one," suggested Josephine, apologetically.

  "What will the world come to?" said the baroness out loud, and retreatedwith a sour glance at all of them--except Rose.

  She had not been gone five minutes when a letter came by messenger toEdouard. It was from Picard. He read it out.

  "Perrin has been with me, to raise money. He wants it in forty-eighthours. Promises good legal security. I have agreed to try and arrangethe matter for him."

  They were all astonished at this.

  "The double-faced traitor!" cried Edouard. "Stay; wait a minute. Let usread it to an end."

  "This promise is, of course, merely to prevent his going elsewhere. Atthe end of the forty-eight hours I shall begin to make difficulties.Meantime, as Perrin is no fool, you had better profit to the full bythis temporary delay."

  "Well done, Picard!" shouted Edouard. "Notary cut notary. I won'tlose an hour. I'll start at five; Commandant Raynal is an early riserhimself."

  Accordingly, at five he was on the road; Raynal's quarters lay in thedirect line to his uncle's place. He found the commandant at home, andwas well received. Raynal had observed his zeal, and liked his manners.He gave him the week's leave, and kept him to breakfast, and had hishorse well fed. At eight o'clock Edouard rode out of the premises inhigh spirits. At the very gate he met a gaunt figure riding in on asquab pony. It was Perrin the notary coming in hot haste to his friendand employer, Commandant Raynal.