Books: Zibeline, v2
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Phillipe de Massa >> Zibeline, v2
"Ah, is it you, General?" said Zibeline, affecting not to have seen him
until that moment. "It seems that music interests you less than comedy."
"What has made you form that opinion, Mademoiselle?"
"The fact that you arrive much later at the opera than at the Comedie
Francaise."
"Have you, then, kept watch upon my movements?"
"Only a passing observation of signs--quite allowable in warfare!"
"But I thought we had made a compact of peace."
"True enough, we did make it, but suppose it were only an armistice?"
"You are ready, then, to resume hostilities?" said Henri.
"Now that I have Madame la Duchesse, your sister, for an ally, I fear no
enemies."
"Not even if I should call for aid upon the camp of Desvanneaux?"
"Alceste leagued with Tartufe? That idea never occurred to Moliere,"
said Zibeline, mischievously.
"Take care!" said the Duchess, interrupting this skirmishing, "you will
fall over into the orchestra! It is growing late, and if Mademoiselle de
Vermont does not wish to remain to see the final conflagration, we might
go now, before the crowd begins to leave."
"I await your orders, Madame la Duchesse," said Zibeline, rising.
The other ladies followed her example, receiving their cloaks from the
hands of their cavaliers, and the occupants of the box made their exit in
the following order: Zibeline, on the arm of the Duke; the Comtesse de
Lisieux, leaning upon M. de Nointel; Madame de Nointel with the General;
the Duchess bringing up the procession with M. de Lisieux.
As soon as they reached the outer lobby their footmen ran to find their
carriages, and that of the Duc de Montgeron advanced first.
"I beg, Madame, that you will not trouble yourself to wait here until my
carriage comes," said Mademoiselle de Vermont to the Duchess, who
hesitated to leave her guest alone.
"Since you wish it, I will leave you, then," said the Duchess, "and we
thank you for giving us your society this evening. My brother will
accompany you to your carriage."
When Zibeline's vehicle drove up to the entrance in its turn, the General
conducted his charge to the door of a marvellously equipped brougham, to
which was harnessed a carriage-horse of powerful frame, well suited to
the kind of vehicle he drew.
A thaw had begun, not yet transforming the gutters into yellow torrents
rushing toward the openings of the sewer, but covering the streets with
thick, black mud, over which the wheels rolled noiselessly.
"Your carriage is late, is it not?" said Zibeline, after the General had
handed her into the brougham.
"My carriage?" said the General. "Behold it!"
He pointed to a passing fiacre, at the same time hailing the driver.
"Don't call him. I will take you home myself," said Zibeline, as if such
a suggestion were the most natural thing in the world.
"You know that in France it is not the custom," said the General.
"What! Do you bother yourself with such things at your age?"
"If my age seems to you a sufficient guaranty, that is different.
I accept your invitation."
"To the Hotel de Montgeron," said Zibeline to her footman.
"I never shall forget your sister's kindness to me," she continued, as
the carriage rolled away. "She fulfils my idea of the great lady better
than any other woman I have seen."
"You may be proud of her friendship," said Henri. "When once she likes a
person, it is forever. I am like her in that respect. Only I am rather
slow in forming friendships."
"And so am I."
"That is obvious, else you would have been married ere this."
"No doubt--to some one like young Desvanneaux, perhaps. You are very
flattering! If you think that I would sacrifice my independence for a
man like that--"
"But surely you do not intend to remain unmarried."
"Perhaps I shall--if I do not meet my ideal."
"All women say that, but they usually change their minds in the end."
"Mine is one and indivisible. If I do not give all I give nothing."
"And shall you wait patiently until your ideal presents himself?"
"On the contrary, I am always looking for him."
"Did you come to Europe for that purpose?"
"For that and for nothing else."
"And suppose, should you find your ideal, that he himself raises
obstacles?"
"I shall try to smooth them away."
"Do you believe, then, that the power of money is irresistible?"
"Far from it! A great fortune is only a trust which Providence has
placed in our hands, in order that we may repair, in its name, the
injustices of fate. But I have another string to my bow."
"What is it?"
"The force of my will."
"You have plenty of that! But suppose, by some impossible chance, your
ideal resists you even then?"
"Then I know what will remain for me to do."
"You will resort to the pistol?"
"Not for him, but for myself," she replied, in a tone so resolute as to
exclude any suggestion of bravado.
Zibeline's horse, which was a rapid trotter, now stopped before the Hotel
de Montgeron, arriving just in advance of the Duchess's carriage, for
which the Swiss was watching at the threshold of the open Porte cochere.
He drew himself up; the brougham entered the gate at a swift pace,
described a circle, and halted under the marquee at the main entrance.
The General sprang lightly to the ground.
"I thank you, Mademoiselle," bowing, hat in hand, to his charming
conductor.
"Call me Valentine, please," she responded, with her usual ease of
manner.
"Even in the character of a stage father, that would be rather too
familiar," said the Marquis.
"Not so much so as to call me Zibeline," said Mademoiselle de Vermont,
laughing.
"Ha! ha! You know your sobriquet, then?"
"I have known it a long time! Good-night, General! We shall meet
again."
Then, addressing her footman, she said in English: "Home!"
CHAPTER XVI
FRATERNAL ADVICE
Like all residences where the owners receive much company, the Hotel de
Montgeron had a double porte-cochere. Just as the Swiss opened the outer
gate to allow the departure of Mademoiselle de Vermont, the two carriages
crossed each other on the threshold. In fact, Henri had had hardly time
to cross the courtyard to mount to his own apartments before his brother-
in-law and his sister stopped him at the foot of the steps. He rejoined
them to say good-night.
"Won't you come and take a cup of tea with us in the little salon?" they
asked.
"Willingly," was his response. He followed them, and all three seated
themselves beside a table which was already laid, and upon which the
boiling water sang in the kettle.
"Leave us," said the Duchess to the butler. "I will serve tea myself.
Did Mademoiselle de Vermont bring you home?" she asked, when the servant
had retired.
"Well," said Henri, "in proposing to do so she mentioned my discreet age,
which appeared to her to make the thing all right! If I had declined her
invitation, I should have seemed to pose as a compromising person! That
is the reason why I accepted."
"You did quite right. What do you really think of her?"
"She is very different from what I had fancied her: I find her frank,
intellectual, full of originality. I have only one fault to mention: she
is too rich."
"Well, surely, you do not expect her to ruin herself to please you."
"I should think not! Besides, what would be the object?"
"To permit you to fall in love with her."
"Oh, that is what you are thinking of, is it?"
"Certainly, for, if need be, perhaps you would make a sacrifice to your
feelings."
"In what way?"
"In the toleration of a few remaining millions which she might retain, so
that when you marry her neither of you will be reduced to absolute
beggary!"
"Marry her!--I?" cried the General, astonished.
"What is there to prevent your doing so?"
"The past, my dear sister. To speculate upon my title and my rank in
order to make a wealthy marriage? To quit my nomad's tent for a fixed
residence other than that where the Prerolles have succeeded one another
from generation to generation? Never! Of all our ancient prejudices,
that is the only one I cherish. Besides, I am free at present to serve
my country under any form of government which it may please her to adopt.
But, with his hereditary estates lost, through his own fault, shall he
who has nothing left to him but his name form a mere branch of another
family? He has no right to do so."
This declaration was categorical. Madame de Montgeron bent her head; her
jesting vein was quenched in a moment.
After a moment of silence the Duke spoke.
"There are scruples that one does not discuss," he said. "But, on the
other hand, if I do not deceive myself, there are others which can be
adjusted to suit circumstances."
"What circumstances?" said the General.
"The subject is rather delicate--especially to mention before you, my
dear Jeanne."
"I was just about to propose that I should retire," said the Duchess.
"Good-night, Henri!" And she bent to kiss him.
"You are not vexed?" said her brother, embracing her tenderly.
"What an idea! Good-night!"
"Am I always to be considered as occupying the stool of repentance?"
Henri inquired, as soon as his sister had left the room.
"Yes, but you will not be offended if I interrogate you a little, after
the manner of a judge?" said the Duke.
"Quite the contrary. Go on; I will listen."
"Had you not just now expressed yourself very distinctly in disfavor of
any project of marriage because of perfectly unimpeachable principles,
I should not permit myself to make any allusion to your private life.
Every man is his own master in his choice of liaisons, and on that head
is answerable only to his own conscience. In these days, moreover, art
is on a level with birth, and talent with military glory. You see that I
am quite modern in my ideas! However--"
"Ah, there is a reserve?"
"Without liability. Mademoiselle Gontier is surrounded by great luxury.
She maintains an expensive house and keeps an open table. Her annual
salary and her income can not possibly cover these expenses. Whence does
she obtain further resources?"
"From the investments made for her by the Baron de Samoreau."
"Without her having to pay a commission of any kind? A most remarkable
case of disinterestedness!"
"I never have sought to examine the matter particularly," said Henri.
"And is that the way you keep yourself informed? A future general-in-
chief!"
"I was not aware that I am in an enemy's country."
"No, but you are in a conquered country, which is still more dangerous.
Oh, no one will attack you face to face at the point of the sword. But
behind your back, in the shadow, you have already massed against you
various rejected swains, the Desvanneaux of the coulisses, jealous of a
preference which wounds their own vanity, and the more ready to throw
discredit--were they able--upon a man of your valor, because they are
better armed against him with the logic of facts."
"What logic, in heaven's name?"
"That which emanates from the following dilemma: Either Danae is obliged
to hide from Jupiter--or, rather, from Maecenas--her intimacy with you--
and you are only a lover who simply loves her--or else Maecenas is an
epicurean who has no objection to share his fortune philosophically; so
that ostensibly you sit at the feast without paying the cost--which is
worse yet."
"Does any one dare to say that of me?" cried the General, springing from
his chair.
"They are beginning to say it," the Duke replied, his eyes fixed on his
brother-in-law, who paced to and fro, gnawing his moustache. "I ask your
pardon for throwing such a bucket of ice-water on you, but with men of
your constitution--"
"Pleurisy is not mortal," Henri interrupted briefly. "I know. Don't
worry about me."
"I knew you would understand," said the Duke, going toward the door of
his own apartments. "That is the reason why I have not spared you a
thorough ducking!"
"I thank you," said the General, as he was about to leave the room.
"I will talk to you about this tomorrow. The night brings counsel."
Wrapped in thought, he made his way to the little suite of apartments
between the ground floor and the first story which he occupied, and which
had a separate door opening on the Rue de Bellechase.
At the foot of the stairs, in a coach-house which had been transformed
into a chamber, slept the orderlies beneath the apartment of their chief.
This apartment, composed of four rooms, was of the utmost simplicity,
harmonizing with the poverty of its occupant, who made it a point of
honor not to attempt to disguise his situation.
The ante-chamber formed a military bureau for the General and his chief
orderly.
The salon, hung with draperies to simulate a tent, had no other
decoration than some trophies of Arabian arms, souvenirs of raids upon
rebellious tribes.
More primitive still was the bedroom, furnished with a simple canteen
bed, as if it were put up in a temporary camp, soon to be abandoned.
The only room which suggested nothing of the anchorite was the dressing-
room, furnished with all the comforts and conveniences necessary to an
elegant and fastidious man of the world.
But his real luxury, which, by habit and by reason of his rank, the
General had always maintained, was found among his horses, as he devoted
to them all the available funds that could be spared from his salary.
Hence the four box-stalls placed at his disposal in the stables of his
brother-in-law were occupied by four animals of remarkably pure blood,
whose pedigrees were inscribed in the French stud-book. Neither years,
nor the hard service which their master had seen, had deteriorated any of
his ability as a dashing horseman. His sober and active life having even
enabled him to preserve a comparatively slender figure, he would have
joined victoriously in the races, except that his height made his weight
too heavy for that amusement.
Entering his own domain, still overwhelmed, with the shock of the
revelations and the gossip of which he never had dreamed, he felt himself
wounded to the quick in all those sentiments upon which his 'amour
propre' had been most sensitive.
The more he pondered proudly over his pecuniary misfortunes, the more
grave the situation appeared to him, and the more imperious the necessity
of a rupture.
When it had been a question of dismissing Fanny Dorville, an actress of
humble standing, his parting gift, a diamond worth twenty-five thousand
francs, had seemed to him a sufficient indemnity to cancel all accounts.
But now, in the presence of an artiste of merit, who had given herself
without calculation and who loved him for himself alone, how, without
wounding her heart and her dignity, could he break violently a chain so
light yesterday, so heavy to-day?
To indulge in tergiversation, to invent some subterfuge to cover his
retreat--he did not feel himself capable of such a course; moreover, his
manoeuvre would be quickly suspected by a clever woman whom nothing
escaped.
To ask to be sent back to Africa, just at the time when his intelligent
and practical instruction in the latest grand manoeuvres had drawn all
eyes upon him, would compromise, by an untimely retirement, the
advantages of this new office, the object of his ambition.
For the first time this nobleman, always prompt and radical in his
decisions, found himself hesitating; and, such is the power of human
egotism even in generous natures, he felt almost incensed against
Eugenie, the involuntary cause of his hesitation.
After weighing everything carefully in his mind, he finally said to
himself that an open confession, sincere and unrestricted, would be the
best solution of the difficulty; and just as the first light of day came
to dissipate the shadow that overcast his mind, when his orderly entered
to open the blinds in his chamber, he formed a fixed resolution as to his
course.
CHAPTER XVII
THE LADY BOUNTIFUL
Valentine de Vermont was not yet twenty-two years old.
Her birth had cost the life of her mother, and, brought up by an active
and enterprising man, her education had been directed by plain common-
sense, rather masculine, perhaps, but without injury to her personal
attractions, nor to those of her delicate and lofty spirit.
Her father, who was endowed with a veritable genius for commercial
action, had monopolized more than the fur-trade of Alaska and of Hudson's
Bay. From year to year he had extended the field of his operations: in
Central America, dealing in grains and salt meats; in Europe in wines and
brandy; commodities always bought at the right time, in enormous
quantities, and, without pausing in transshipment from one country to
another, carried in vessels belonging to him and sailing under the
English flag.
Without giving her any unnecessary instruction as to the management of
his affairs, he wished his daughter to possess sufficient knowledge of
them to handle herself the wealth that she would receive as a dowry and
at his death; and he decided that she should not contract a marriage
except under the law of the separation of goods, according to the custom
generally adopted in the United States.
An attack of paralysis having condemned him to his armchair, he
consecrated the remainder of his days to settling all his enterprises,
and when he died, about two years before the arrival of Valentine in
Paris, that young lady found herself in the possession of more than one
hundred and twenty million francs, nearly all invested in English,
American, and French State bonds.
At the expiration of her period of mourning, the wealthy heiress could
then live in London, New York, or Paris, at her pleasure; but the French
blood that ran in her veins prevented her from hesitating a moment, and
she chose the last named of the three cities for her abode.
Being passionately fond of saddle and driving-horses, she did not stop in
England without taking the necessary time to acquire everything of the
best for the fitting-up of a stable, and after a time she established
herself temporarily in a sumptuous apartment in the Place de l'Etoile,
furnished with a taste worthy of the most thorough Parisian.
On the evening after her appearance at the Opera, just as she left her
breakfast-table, M. Durand presented himself at her dwelling with the
architect's plan for the building of the orphan asylum, and declared
himself ready to take her orders regarding the plan, as well as on the
subject of the gift of money to the Society.
"I have resolved," said Zibeline, "to transform into an asylum, following
a certain plan, the model farm belonging to the estate that I have
recently purchased through you. If I required carte blanche in choosing
the site, it was because I desire that Monsieur Desvanneaux shall have
nothing to do with the matter until the day when I shall put the
committee in possession of the building and its premises, which I have
engaged to furnish, free of all expense to the Society. I shall employ
my own architect to execute the work, and I shall ask you to indemnify,
for me, the architect who has drawn up this first plan, which will remain
as the minimum expense incurred on my part. But I wish to be the only
person to superintend the arrangements, and to be free to introduce,
without control, such improvements as I may judge suitable. Should the
committee demand a guaranty, I have on deposit with Monsieur de Samoreau
a million francs which I intend to use in carrying out these operations.
Half of that sum may be consigned to the hands of some one they may wish
to choose; the other half will serve to pay the laborers in proportion to
their work. In order to insure even greater regularity, have the
kindness to draw up, to cover the interval that will elapse before I make
my final definite donation, a provisionary document, setting forth the
engagement that I have undertaken to carry out."
"Here it is," said the notary; "I have already prepared it."
Having examined the document carefully, to assure herself that all
statements contained therein were according to her intentions, Zibeline
took her pen and wrote at the foot of the page: "Read and approved," and
signed the paper.
"Mademoiselle appears to be well accustomed to business habits," observed
M. Durand, with a smile.
"That is because I have been trained to them since childhood," she
replied. "My plan is to place this document myself in the hands of
Madame la Duchesse de Montgeron."
"You can do so this very afternoon, if you wish. Thursday is her
reception day," said the notary, rising with a bow, preparatory to taking
his leave.
"I shall take good care not to fail to call," earnestly replied the fair
Lady Bountiful.
She telephoned immediately to her head-groom, ordering ham to bring
around her brougham at three o'clock.
CHAPTER XVIII
A MODERN TARTUFE
At the same hour that the elegant carriage of Zibeline was conducting her
to the Hotel de Montgeron, M. Desvanneaux descended from a modest fiacre
at the gate of the hotel occupied by Eugenie Gontier.
The first impulse of the actress--who was engaged in studying a new role
in her library--was not to receive her importunate visitor; but a sudden
idea changed her determination, and she gave the order to admit him.
"This is the first time that I have had the high favor of being admitted
to this sanctuary," said the churchwarden, kissing with ardor the hand
that the actress extended to him.
"Don't let us have so great a display of pious manifestations," she said,
withdrawing her hand from this act of humility, which was rather too
prolonged. "Sit down and be sensible," she added.
"Can one be sensible when he finds himself at your feet, dear
Mademoiselle? At the feet of the idol who is so appropriately enthroned
among so many artistic objects!" replied the honey-tongued Prudhomme,
adjusting his eyeglasses. "The bust of General de Prerolles, no doubt?"
he added, inquiringly, scrutinizing a marble statuette placed on the high
mantelpiece.
"You are wrong, Monsieur Desvanneaux; it is that of Moliere!"
"I beg your pardon!--I am standing so far below it! I, too, have on my
bureau a bust of our great Poquelin, but Madame Desvanneaux thinks that
this author's style is somewhat too pornographic, and has ordered me to
replace his profane image by the more edifying one of our charitable
patron, Saint Vincent de Paul."
"Is it to tell me of your family jars that you honor me with this visit?"
said Eugenie.
"No, indeed! It was rather to escape from them, dear Mademoiselle! But
alas! my visit has also another object: to release you from the promise
you were so kind as to make me regarding the matter of our kermess; a
project now unfortunately rendered futile by that Zibeline!"
"Otherwise called 'Mademoiselle de Vermont.'"
"I prefer to call her Zibeline--that name is better suited to a
courtesan."
"You are very severe toward her!"
"I can not endure hypocrites!" naively replied the worthy man.
"She appeared to me to be very beautiful, however," continued Eugenie
Gontier, in order to keep up the conversation on the woman who she felt
instinctively was her rival.
"Beautiful! Not so beautiful as you," rejoined M. Desvanneaux,
gallantly. "She is a very ambitious person, who throws her money at our
heads, the better to humiliate us."
"But, since it is all in the interest of the Orphan Asylum--"
"Say, rather, in her own interest, to put herself on a pedestal because
of her generosity! Oh, she has succeeded at the first stroke! Already,
at the Hotel de Montgeron they swear by her; and if this sort of thing
goes on, I shall very soon be regarded only as a pariah!"
"Poor Monsieur Desvanneaux!"
"You pity me, dear Mademoiselle? I thank you! The role of consoler is
truly worthy of your large heart, and if you do not forbid me to hope--"
said this modern Tartufe, approaching Eugenie little by little.
"Take care!" said she; "suppose the General should be hidden under that
table, like Orgon!"
"The General!" exclaimed Desvanneaux; "he is too much occupied
elsewhere!"
"Occupied with whom?"
"With Zibeline, probably. He never left her side all the evening, last
night at the Opera."
"Pardon me! He was here until after ten o'clock."
"Yes, but afterward--when the opera was over?"
"Well, what happened when the opera was over?" Eugenie inquired, forcing
herself to hide her emotion.
"They went away together! I saw them--I was watching them from behind a
column. What a scandal!"
"And your conclusion on all this, Monsieur Desvanneaux?"
"It is that the General is deceiving you, dear Mademoiselle."
"With that young girl?"
"A bold hussy, I tell you! A Messalina! Ah, I pity you sincerely in my
turn! And should a devoted consoler, a discreet avenger, be able to make
you forget this outrage to your charms, behold me at your feet, devoting
to you my prayers, awaiting only a word from you to become the most
fortunate among the elect--"
A loud knock at the outer door spared Mademoiselle Gontier the trouble of
repelling her ridiculous adorer, who promptly scrambled to his feet at
the sound.
"A visitor!" he murmured, turning pale. "Decidedly, I have no luck--"