Again you complain of my silence, in a letter written with the object of
overwhelming me with abuse; and you mix up sarcasms (through which your
childish curiosity is very transparent) with philosophical remarks which
reveal the snobbishness of your nature. In fact, from the tone of your
letters, one might imagine I was threatened by strange complications,
and that you were hoping every morning to read the account of some
catastrophe. For once in a way your longing for an important event will
not be disappointed, for I have a weighty piece of news for you. As it
belongs to the most strictly moral order of events, you may listen
without any anxiety.
As you are aware, my aunt and uncle came to Paris a fortnight ago, and
will stay here all the winter. The house in the Rue de Varennes has
resumed its gay honours; we give receptions, dinners, and everything
else that you are familiar with, but embellished this time by the
presence of the charming Countess of Monteclaro, who supplies that
lively element of family life which we rather missed formerly. My aunt
has discovered here a young cousin of hers, Count Daniel Kiusko, a
capital fellow, whom I have quite made friends with.
Having given you these details, I will now proceed with my story.
The other morning, after breakfast, as I was about to return to my room
(for whatever you may believe, I am working hard just now), my uncle
stopped me, and without any further preliminaries began:
"By the way, André, I expect Madame Saulnier and my god-daughter Anna
Campbell, your betrothed, to dinner this, evening. I should not mind
letting you make her acquaintance. If you happen to be curious to see
her, don't make any engagements at the club, and come home punctually."
"Really!" exclaimed my aunt with a laugh, and without giving me time to
answer: "from the way you put it, one might think you were talking of
some doll that you intended to offer André for his birthday!"
"What the deuce do you mean by that, my dear?" asked the captain in his
imperturbable way.
"I mean," said my aunt, "that this little acquaintance which you wish
they should make with each other before you marry them, seems to me a
very necessary preliminary."
"Pooh! They've still a good year before them! Besides, this little
matter has nothing to do with romance." Then turning to me he continued;
"Well, if that suits you for to-day, I have given you notice."
"Capital!" added my aunt. "Well, André! How does it suit you?"
"Why, aunt," I said, laughing in my turn at their little dispute; "I
think my uncle may rely equally with you upon the pleasure it will give
me."
"All right, that's settled!" continued my aunt in an inimitable tone of
hilarity; "at seven o'clock punctually, my dear nephew, you will come
and fall in love."
My uncle took no more notice of this last ironical shaft than of the
rest, but occupied himself with selecting a cigar, remarking that what
he had were too dry. My aunt availed herself of the opportunity of
continuing her conversation with me.
"Between you and me," she said, "I may tell you that you are not much to
be pitied, for she is a charming girl, and you would really lose a good
deal by not making her acquaintance."
"I was only waiting for my uncle to decide the question."
"You must at any rate be grateful to him for letting you meet _by
chance_ before your wedding-day," she continued.
"Oh, dear! one might think I wanted to marry them at a minute's notice!"
said my uncle at these words. "Just like a woman's exaggerations!
Perhaps you would have liked me to have introduced her to him before my
last voyage, when she was a lass of fourteen, thin, awkward, and
gawkish, as you all are at that age."
"Thanks; why don't you say monkeys while you are about it?" replied my
aunt with a curtsey.
But my uncle intended to make a speech of it, and continued:
"Who would have left in his mind the disagreeable recollection of a
small, flat, angular creature, with arms like flutes, and hands and feet
as long as that!"
"Poor little creature! I shudder at the thought of it! However, in your
ineffable wisdom, you have fattened her up with mystery."
"Ta, ta, ta!" continued my uncle; "I have made a fine, healthy, solid
young woman of her, who promises to make just the right sort of wife for
André! And I maintain, in spite of your ideas on the subject, that I
have done well to bring them up at a distance from each other, in order
to preserve the freshness of their feelings, and avoid the necessity of
that awkward and painful transformation of the affections which is so
difficult for a couple who have grown up together and eaten their bread
and butter together as brats in the nursery. To-day they will find each
other just as they ought to before they become husband and wife. All the
rest of the business must be left to them. If they like each other very
much they will make a love-match, if not, a _mariage de raison_, which
is just as good."
My uncle having concluded thus, it only remained for me to signify my
compliance with his wishes. As you may well understand, I awaited with
impatience the hour for this first interview, and I was in the
drawing-room that evening some time before my _fiancée's_ arrival. My
aunt was in the heaven of delight, just like every woman looking forward
to a romantic incident, and she did not fail to remark my eagerness. As
to the captain, like a being superior to such sentimental trifles, he
was quietly reading his paper. He was just commencing a political
discussion when the servant opened the folding doors and announced:
"Madame Saulnier and Mademoiselle Campbell."
To tell the truth, I must admit that I felt somewhat nervous. A lady of
about forty years old came in, accompanied by a young person in a
regulation convent dress. I stood up, while my uncle went forward to
meet his _god-daughter_, and kissed her affectionately on the forehead.
Then he led me to her by the hand, in a dignified and ceremonious
manner, and said without more ado:
"Anna, this is André! André, this is Anna! Kiss each other!"
This form of introduction, with its laconic precision, had at least the
advantage that it left no uncertainty between us, and at once indicated
to us our proper course of procedure. Too well trained to my uncle's
habits, I did not hesitate a moment, but kissed my betrothed; after
which I said, "How do you do?" which, of course, gave me a nice
opportunity of looking at her.
Anna Campbell is at the present time just seventeen. She is neither
short nor tall, thin nor stout--although the great blue ribbon which she
wears over her neck, with a cross suspended from it, already sets off
the plump outlines of her bosom. She is neither fair nor dark; her chin
is round, her face oval, her nose, mouth, and forehead are all
medium-sized, and she has rather pretty blue eyes. Generally speaking,
she is more pleasant-looking than handsome, and her features on the
whole suggest a very gentle disposition united with good health. My
uncle took care to impress upon me that she will continue to develop,
since her feet and hands are still large for her age, and promise a
handsome completion of her growth.
In short, my lot is far from a disagreeable one--quite the contrary. As
my uncle expresses it, "All the symptoms are good."
Our dinner was a very lively one. Anna Campbell, although rather subdued
in my presence, did not show any embarrassment. Nothing seemed to be new
to her; her manners and deportment, and everything about her, revealed
the familiar assurance of a child of the family who had come to take a
holiday there, and felt herself as much at home as I did. I perceived
that she knew the house as well as if she had been brought up in it, and
I learnt that during the time when I was at college she and Madame
Saulnier had really lived there for three years.
The result of all this was that Anna Campbell exhibited a pleasant sort
of familiarity with my aunt and uncle which I did not at all expect to
see. Brought up away from each other, and without any previous
acquaintance, we were now meeting for the first time at this common
centre of our affections, which, unknown to us, had united us since our
childhood. This was both original and sweet to think of.
Once, when my uncle asked for the pickles, Anna said:
"They are near André."
When the meal was over we left the dining-room. Following a Russian
fashion which my aunt had introduced among us, when we entered the
drawing-room, I pressed her hand to my lips, while she kissed me on the
forehead. Anna did the same; then, without even appearing to think what
she was doing, she quietly held up her two cheeks for me to kiss, and
afterwards offered them to her godfather. She then ran to the piano, and
sat down to it, while we were taking our coffee.
"Well, what do you think of her?" my uncle asked me.
"She is very nice," I replied.
"Yes, isn't she? Just the thing for you, my boy," he observed, as he
stirred his cup, with the tranquillity of a pure conscience. "Go and
talk with her," he continued; "you will find she is not stupid."
I went to sit down by Anna.
"Come, play the bass!" she said, moving aside to make room for me, as if
we had often played in duet together before.
When the piece was finished, we talked about her convent, her friends,
and the Mother Superior, Sainte Lucie, whom she was much attached to;
and she spoke about everything in a confident tone of familiarity, which
showed me that she had often talked of me, and had been used to think of
me as an absent brother. The understanding is that, on account of her
youth, our betrothal is to remain a family secret, which will only be
made public when the right time arrives.
The evening concluded without any other special incident. At ten o'clock
Anna went home to her convent. As she was putting her things on, she
held out her hand to me, and said:
"Good-bye, André!"
"Good-bye, Anna!" I replied; and then my uncle took me away with him to
the club, where he sat down to his party at whist.
While I am on the subject of my uncle, I must tell you about an
adventure which he has just had. He is _dead_, as you are aware, for I
have inherited his property. This privilege he will not give up,
_because the registration fees have been paid_. The result of this
peculiar situation is that he is under certain legal incapacities,
which, without troubling him more seriously, do nevertheless cause him
some annoyance. Three months ago at Férouzat, he had to renew his
gun-license, which he had taken out seven years before; but as his
decease had been formally entered at the prefecture, they would not
accept this document, bearing the signature of a defunct person. As you
may imagine, he did very well without it, and began to shoot as if
nothing had happened!
The other morning, however, it chanced, as my uncle was passing our
banker's, that he wanted to draw twenty thousand francs for his
pocket-money. The cashier, who had known him years ago, was very much
surprised to see him in the flesh, but represented to him that it was
now quite impossible for him to open an account in his name, as he was
legally dead and buried. My uncle, like a law-abiding man, admitted the
justice of this observation, and I had to intervene in order to arrange
the matter for him. He took no further notice of it; only as he never
does anything by halves, he had his visiting cards printed with "The
late Barbassou" on them; and this was the way he signed himself at our
banker's, by which means he pretended that he conformed with all
requirements.
"You see how simple the whole thing is," he said to me.
My amours with Kondjé-Gul have certainly taken a very remarkable turn.
The other day I took her to Versailles for an educational and historical
excursion; she is continuing her course of civilization, you know. After
visiting the palace and the museum, we went into the park. She was in
the best of spirits, still excited with the fresh air and freedom which
she was enjoying like an escaped prisoner from the harem, and was asking
me questions about everything with that charming simplicity of hers
which delights me so much, when we arrived in front of Diana's Bath,
where we found a group of three young women most brilliantly dressed,
two of whom, as I saw at the first glance, were old acquaintances of
mine, very well known in the gay world. Young Lord B---- accompanied
them, and they all recognised me; but Lord B----, with the well-bred
tact of a man of the world, seeing the company I was in, only nodded
slightly to me. With like discretion, as is usual on such occasions, the
women made no movement of recognition; yet they could not help--being
struck no doubt with the remarkable beauty of my companion--evincing
such evident curiosity, that Kondjé-Gul observed it. I, of course,
passed without appearing to notice them. Kondjé-Gul and I then took a
turn up the walk, while I expounded the mythology of the bath to her,
and then we went out.
"Who are those ladies?" she asked me as soon as we were at a good
distance from them; "they know you, I could see."
"Oh, yes," I replied in an indifferent tone, "I have met them several
times."
"And the young man who was with them also looked at you as if he was one
of your friends; why did not you speak to him?"
"For discretion's sake, because you were with me, and he was walking
with _them_."
"Ah! I understand," she said; "no doubt they are the women of his
harem?"
"Just so," I answered quite coolly, "and, as I have often told you,
according to our customs, the harem is always----"
I was trying to think of the right word, when she burst out laughing
quite loud.
"What are you laughing at, you silly thing?" I asked.
"I am laughing at all those stories about your harems which you still
make up for me just as you used to do for that idiot Hadidjé. I listen
to them all, because,--whatever does it matter to me now that I love
you! I prefer the happiness of remaining your slave to that of these
women, who have no doubt been your mistresses, and whom you don't even
condescend to notice when you meet them."
"What?" I exclaimed in astonishment; "have you got to know so much
already, you little humbug, and have concealed it from me?"
"After all you have given me to read to form my mind according to your
ideas, surely it was natural that I should some day discover the truth!
I only waited for an opportunity of confirming my new knowledge," she
continued with a smile. "There are still a lot of things in your country
which I cannot understand. But you will teach me them now, won't you?"
she added in a coaxing tone.
"Oh, you young flirt! It seems to me you know everything already!"
"Why, yes, I feel I know that, for all you may say, I am still no more
than a curious toy in your eyes--a strange creature, like some rare bird
that you are rather fond of, perhaps, for her pretty plumage."
"Ah! you're right upon the last point at any rate!" I replied with a
laugh.
"Yes, sir!" she continued in a satisfied tone of pride, "I know that I
am handsome!--Now don't laugh at me," she added with a charming
reproachful look; "what I have to say is quite serious, for it comes
from my heart. I was born for a different life, for different sentiments
to yours, and I know that I possess none of those qualities which they
say make the women of your country so attractive. Their ideas and
associations are very different to mine, which you call the
superstitions of a young barbarian, and which I want to forget in order
to learn to understand you and to have no rivals."
"Are you quite sure that you would not lose by the change?"
"Thank you," said Kondjé-Gul; "that's what I call a compliment."
"The fact is," I replied, "the very thing I like about you is that you
do not in any way resemble the women whom we have just met."
"Oh!" she said, with an indescribable gesture of pride, "it's not
_those_ women I envy! But I see others whom I would like to resemble--in
their manners and tone, of course. If you're a nice fellow, do you know
what you will do for me?"
"What?"
"It's a dream, a scheme which I have been continually thinking over. You
won't laugh at me, will you?"
"No. Let's hear your grand scheme."
"Well, then, if you would like to make me very happy, place me for a few
months in one of those convents where your young ladies are educated.
You would come and see me every day, so that I should not be too dull
away from you."
"That's the queerest idea I have ever heard from you; fancy a Mahommedan
girl at a convent!" I said, with a laugh.
I took a great deal of trouble in explaining to her what a foolish
project this was; but the result of my attempts at demonstrating the
serious obstacles which such ambitious aspirations would encounter, was
that in the end I myself entered into her views. The experiment might
indeed prove a most instructive one. With Kondjé-Gul's character, there
was an extremely interesting psychological experiment before me. I had
found her to be endowed with marvellous natural qualities. With her
ardour and enthusiasm, what would be the effect upon her simple
imagination of a sudden transition from the ideas of the harem to the
subtle refinements of our own society?
Certainly, I was obliged to admit that such a trial was not without its
dangers; but then, was not Kondjé-Gul already aware that the marital
yoke which my houris still believed in was only imaginary? And was it
not better, such being the case, for me to complete this work of
regeneration, the fruits of which I should in the end reap for myself?
So I submitted to Kondjé-Gul's wishes, and as soon as we returned to
Paris this important matter was settled.
The next day I began to look for the means of carrying it into
execution, a search which was attended, however, with a good many
difficulties.
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